This night, this special night, all the falloways of the land opened onto the northern gate of Pengraic Castle.
My mother’s breathing was now harsh and irregular. She did not have long.
I stepped through the gate, Owain and Gytha right behind me.
The ridge leading up to the mountain of Pen Cerrig-calch behind Pengraic was alive with torchlight. The mountaintops, all the hills about, were lined with light. Tens of thousands of people lined the ridges and hilltops, each holding a torch.
The Old People, come to welcome their lady home.
Silent tears slid down my cheeks. I did not want to let my mother go. I knew that she had life beyond this death, life reborn into the fold of the Old People, but even so I mourned her. I could not contemplate my life here in this realm of England without her presence. I have loved her so deeply, so completely …
‘My lord,’ Owain murmured behind me, and I gave a nod. I walked forward, Owain and Gytha still close behind me, and from among the torches of the Old People three riders came. Their horses were magnificent: one chestnut, one white and one a bright bay, their manes dragging to the ground, tangled about with diamonds.
Ghent, my brother Stephen, and my father, whose name as a prince of the Old People cannot be written here.
My mother drew in a rattling breath, shivered a little, and passed.
I could not hold back a choking sob. I hugged her to me, so reluctant to let her go.
‘You must,’ said my father. He had ridden a little ahead of the other two now. His face had lost its care, all the lines and weariness that my mother so often described in her testimony, and now gloried in youth and vitality, in strength and splendour.
Atop his head glimmered the diadem, for which he had risked so much. I was shaking, but I made the effort to collect myself, for what I now needed to do could not be accomplished without steady hands.
Very gently I laid my mother’s body on the ground and knelt to kiss her goodbye.
Goodbye, Maeb, this realm will be the vastly poorer for your absence.
Then I stood and in one fluid movement, one stroke, drew my sword from its scabbard and took off Owain’s and Gytha’s heads.
Oh, sweet Jesu, I wanted to take off my own head then. My grief was so profound that I could not bear it. I knelt, resting the point of the sword on the ground, my forehead on its pommel, and wept, my entire body shaking with the force.
‘Hugh.’
It was my mother’s voice.
I rose, shakily, and turned about.
There Maeb stood, not two paces from me, looking as beautiful as I remembered her from when I was a young boy.
Her body, as those of Owain and Gytha, had vanished.
She held out her arms, smiling as I remembered, and I stepped forward and hugged her to me.
She was warm and solid in my arms, and she held me as tightly as I held her.
‘Hugh,’ she whispered.
‘Hugh, I have to go.’
‘I want —’
‘No. You must remain here. The world needs the Falloway Man for a while yet.’
She leaned back. Her green eyes brimmed with tears. ‘Thank you, Hugh,’ she said, kissing my cheek. And then without waiting for an answer or a smile from me, she turned.
She walked first to Stephen. He leaned down from his horse and they gripped hands. They spoke, kissed briefly, and then my mother gave his hand a tight squeeze before letting go and turning …
Suddenly my father was there, his big bay horse filling the path. He held down his arm for my mother, lifting her atop the horse behind his saddle. She slid her arms about his waist and rested her cheek on his back.
Her face glowed with contentment.
Then something coming from behind bumped me to one side. Sweet Jesu! It was my mother’s grey mare, Dulcette, dead these twenty years! I did not believe it possible — but then, had not Dulcette always found her way home to my mother? Dulcette wandered past my father and mother, pausing a moment so my mother could pat her, then walked further up the falloway, no doubt looking for a stable for the night.
I looked back to my father.
For an instant my father’s gaze held mine. It was full of respect and love and some sorrow, and yet joy also, for finally he had Maeb back with him, as he had always wanted.
‘Be well, Hugh,’ he said. ‘When you want it, when you think it time, this diadem is yours.’ Then he turned the horse and moved back.
I could see, just for one moment, Owain and Gytha standing with Stephen and Ghent, and then, too suddenly, too horrifically, everything was gone. The tens of thousands of Old People, the torches, Ghent and Stephen, Owain and Gytha, my father.
My mother.
The falloways.
All gone, leaving me to weep in the cold night air, the wind whistling past me as I stood on the ridge leading to Pen Cerrig-calch.
Glossary
Adelaide, Queen: wife of the king, Edmond.
Advent: a period of preparation before Christmas. In medieval times it was often marked from Martinmas, 11th November, through to 24th December, the Vigil of the Nativity of Christ.
Aldermen: see City of London governance.
All Souls Day: 2nd November.
Amble: horses which could amble were prized animals in medieval Europe. Ambling was a very fast but extremely smooth walking gait that was faster than a trot and could cover much ground at little expense of energy to the horse. Few horses now can amble as the gait lost fashion after the medieval period and horses were no longer bred for the trait. But for an idea of what they could do, search for Peruvian Paso horses on YouTube; Peruvian Pasos are a breed of horse that can trace their descent from the medieval ambler, and their gait is very similar.
Anatolia: modern-day Turkey.
Assizes: English criminal courts. The word comes from the Old French. d’Avranches, Ralph: garrison commander at Pengraic Castle. d’Ecouis, Fulkes: a Templar Knight, recently arrived from the continent.
Bailleul, Mistress Yvette: a senior attending woman to Lady Adelie de Mortaigne.
Baynard Castle: a Norman castle in London, situated in its extreme south-west corner, close by the current location of Blackfriars station. Its castellan (or keeper) is Geoffrey de Mandeville, Earl of Exsessa.
Bears: brown bears were once widespread over Britain. They were hunted to extinction just before or during the Norman era. Nevertheless, the British travel advisory still recommends you avoid the cracks in the pavement.
Beaumont, Roger de: Earl of Warwick.
Bec, Tedbald du: Archbishop of Cantuaberie.
Bethune, Robert de: Bishop of Hereford.
Blanche: a nurse.
Blois, Gervase de: abbot of Westminster.
Blois, Henry of: Bishop of Wincestre, and one of the highest Norman noblemen (grandson of William the Conqueror) in England.
Braes: underdrawers worn by men, usually made of linen.
Bretagne, Alan de: Earl of Richemont and Constable of the Tower.
Chemise: an under tunic of linen, or perhaps of wool, worn beneath the kirtle, or over tunic.
Cinque Ports, The: the term is a Norman French import, meaning ‘five ports’. These were the five most important south-eastern ports in England: Hastings, New Romney, Hythe, Dovre, and Sandwich. In medieval and early modern times they were the key to England, and were kept secured at all costs.
City of London governance: little is known about how the City of London was governed in the earlier twelfth century. It had twenty-four wards, or administrative areas, each having an alderman (possibly more than one). The portreeve was the king’s top official in the city and was responsible for collecting revenues. Also of importance were the Constable of the Tower, and whichever nobleman was castellan of Baynard Castle in the south-west of the city. There was no mayor until the later twelfth century.
Clare, Gilbert de: Earl of Pembroke. His wife is Isabel.
Conqueror’s Tower, The: the Norman Keep (known as the White Tower when it was whitewashed in the later twelfth century) of the Tower of London complex.
Courser: a horse often used for hunting by noblemen when they may not have wished to risk their expensive destriers.
Craon, Robert de: Grand Master of the Templars.
Destrier: a nobleman’s war horse.
Douai, Roger de: a knight favoured by the king.
Dulcette: Maeb Langtofte’s horse.
Eadgard: a servant of Sir Godfrey Langtofte.
Edmond: King of England.
Elesberie, Royal Manor: the royal manor at Elesberie was very large, possibly containing as much as 2,000 acres of land.
Erheld: a Norman noblewoman, wife of Geoffrey de Mortaigne.
Falloways: the long forgotten paths of the Old People.
fitzErfast, Robert: steward at the Earl of Pengraic’s London house.
fitzRolf, Nigel: chamberlain of the king’s palace at Westminster.