two words of conversation with anyone. During the day Lady Adelie slipped into a deep reverie as she rocked back and forth in her cart, Mistress Yvette always close by her side; at night she said little as she ate sparingly and then went to her bed.
The girls, Alice and Emmette, hardly talked to me once we’d passed Monemude. It was if, this close to home, they had retreated to a distance befitting nobility, for they no longer rode with me and instead preferred to ride with their brother further ahead in the column.
I was left to trail Lady Adelie’s cart on Dulcette by myself, with no company save for the greetings of a passing soldier or knight as he moved up and down the column.
Without Evelyn I felt very alone.
Stephen also no longer came back to talk to me. He did ride back to check on his mother many times during the day, and on these occasions he would nod a greeting to me, but he did not speak.
I wondered if his mother had spoken to him, as well.
Even Rosamund, who had so often enjoyed riding with me, now appeared to disdain the very idea and shrieked if I rode Dulcette to the side of the cart, as if she thought I was about to snatch her from its comforts.
Thus, by the time we left Bergeveny for the morning’s journey to Pengraic Castle, I felt quite alone in the world.
That last day we rode swiftly, for no doubt everyone just wanted to be out of the saddle, or the deep discomfort of the tray of a cart. We rode toward a gap in the mountains — the Usk Valley, one of the soldiers told me when I asked. We splashed through many streams and rivulets, across fields and meadows and, close to noon, we entered the valley.
It was wide and fairly flat, a green valley that wound into the distance, bounded on either side by hills and mountains — the Black Mountains to the north, the Bearscathe Mountains to the south. The road followed the path of the River Usk, and was flat and well maintained. The sun shone, the trees on the riverbank dipped and swayed in the breeze, and late spring flowers littered the banks of the road.
It was not what I had expected. All my life I’d heard tales of the Welsh and of their savagery; all children feared them. Yet here we were, deep in the Welsh Marches, and the countryside here was, if anything, prettier than any I had yet seen along the journey. Even the mountains and hills to either side had lost their threatening aspect. Their lower reaches had been cleared for fields, their crowns sometimes bare, sometimes cloaked in thick forest. The Usk was on my left as I rode into the valley, its banks covered by trees whose branches dipped into the water, so that my view of the river was veiled by shifting leaves.
This was not, surely, the dark, damned country of Lady Adelie’s description.
We turned a little north, away from the river, and followed a road toward a small village that someone told me was called Crickhoel. I had my gaze set on it, not thinking that we might be very close to the castle, when suddenly Stephen was at my side again.
I jumped, for I had not seen him approach. He nodded to my right, to a spot much higher than the village. ‘My home,’ he said, and I turned my head, lifted my gaze …
And gasped.
There it was. Pengraic Castle, sitting far up the side of a mountain, high, high above us.
‘There is a spur of land,’ Stephen said, pointing with one hand, ‘that runs south from the flank of the mountain — the Welsh call it Pen Cerrig-calch. At the end of the spur is a plateau, and it is on that plateau that Pengraic sits.’
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I had never seen any castle as mighty as this one. We were still some two miles from it, far down in the valley, yet even so it dominated the entire landscape.
Built of weathered grey stone, it rose into the sky — untold battlements and parapets, and sheer walls that rose to merge with the low clouds.
‘All you can see of the castle from this spot,’ Stephen said, ‘is the great keep. But behind that the castle stretches toward the mountain. Through the inner bailey, then into the northern keep and then the outer bailey beyond that. Ah, Maeb, I hope you will love it as much as I.’
I glanced at him then, and I saw such love on his face as he gazed upward that it stunned me.
‘It is legend,’ Stephen said, very softly, ‘that the rock on which Pengraic Castle sits has been sacred since that time when only the Old People roamed these hills.’ He dropped his eyes very suddenly to mine. ‘Perhaps so,’ he said, ‘and perhaps they’ve never left.’
‘Old People?’
‘The name given to those ancient folk who lived here even before the English or even the Welsh came to live on this island.’
The Old People. I shivered, but forgot them almost immediately as soon afterward we turned our horses and began our climb upward.
It was hard work, for the way was steep, and the cart horses moved very slowly. I gave Dulcette as loose a rein as I could and let her find her own pace — soon her head was low and bobbing up and down as she picked her way from one side of the roadway to the other, wherever she thought she saw an easier path.
Very gradually we drew closer to the castle. We approached from the south-eastern side, and as we came about I could clearly see that the castle stretched right along the spur of land that descended from the southern flank of Pen Cerrig-calch. I could not comprehend its size; the great keep alone would have awed me, but to see the entire castle stretch back along the spur, its walls and battlements punctuated at regular intervals by towers … in its entirety I thought the castle became a mountain itself, one mountain of grey stone that grew out of another.
The sides of the mountain that led up to the castle were very steep, sloping down on the castle’s southern, western and eastern flanks. The only gentle gradient lay behind the castle, as the spur of land rose to join with Pen Cerrig-calch.
I thought the castle must be impregnable.
The roadway doglegged up the steep hillside. We moved northward almost halfway along the long eastern flank of the castle before executing a tight turn — the carts only barely managing to keep to the road — and climbing south back toward the main gate situated in the south wall by the great keep.
When we drew close, within twenty or so paces, the walls of the castle towered over me; they blotted out the sun, casting everyone in deep, cold shadow, and I shivered.
I tried to twist about, to see what I could of the castle, but suddenly Dulcette picked up her pace and entered the gateway and I was surrounded by walls of stone.
And then, as if by magic, Dulcette emerged into bright sunshine and I was inside Pengraic Castle.
PART TWO
CHAPTER ONE
Pengraic Castle was a marvel, but it also disconcerted me as it was so vast. I felt lost amid its huge chambers and the tight, winding stairwells that appeared suddenly in the most surprising of spaces.
My days were mostly spent in the great keep, and those mostly on the upper level … here was the solar and the lord’s privy chamber, as well the male and female dormitories for servants and guards. The ground level housed the great hall, the kitchens, and the storage and stabling areas. Because the earl was not in residence and Lady Adelie was not well, I did not eat in the great hall, which was where the majority of the servants, soldiers and knights dined, but rather took my meals with the countess in either the solar or her chamber.
I was awed not only by the size of the castle, and its complexity (which took me weeks to fathom),