Evelyn kissed me, then hugged me tight. ‘I will come to Pengraic once I know my daughter is safe,’ she said. ‘Until then, you be well, Maeb.’
She turned to Mistress Yvette. ‘I will miss my lady, Yvette. I am sorry to have to leave her this abruptly … but I will be home to Pengraic soon. Before the child is born, I hope.’
They kissed, then one of the soldiers helped Evelyn to mount, and she was gone, clattering out of the courtyard on a raw-boned brown horse. Glowecestre was the point at which it struck home that Lady Adelie’s fatigue might be more serious than she said. We stayed in the earl’s town house for three days, days of complete rest, yet my lady’s fatigue did not lift at all. For the first time since I’d been in her household Lady Adelie did not rise for early prayers, instead leaving it until mid-morning, when the world was already well on its way, before she rose from her bed. She did not venture far, staying in a chair by the fire until it was time to go back to bed. She ate little and her face remained pale and drawn, the dark circles under her eyes growing stronger. She appeared to have caught a chill, for she coughed occasionally, but said it was nothing.
I did not question her for I knew she would only snap at me, but took as great care of her as I might. I fetched whatever she wanted, sought out a minstrel from the town that she might be entertained, and carried tender morsels from the kitchen to tempt her appetite. Mistress Yvette and I sat with her and kept her company, Mistress Yvette reading from the book of devotion, or the pair of us chattering away in an effort to cheer her.
Stephen came to visit several times each day. I took care to fade away when he came to his mother, avoiding his eye, standing back in the shadow that I might not disturb them … and that I might not catch his regard. I had done much thinking since Evelyn’s talk to me, and I realised that I had allowed myself to slip into an affection for Stephen that could lead nowhere but disaster for me. I did need to be careful, for my future was not assured. No matter his charm and warmth, Stephen could do little but threaten that future, while Saint-Valery might assure it. I should not disregard Saint-Valery’s offer in preference for certain disaster with Stephen.
So I faded into the shadows, and hardened my heart against him.
To be truthful, Stephen did not appear to come to the chamber merely to hope for a glimpse of me. It was clear his mother’s fatigue concerned him deeply. He spent some time on our second day in Glowecestre in deep conversation with Mistress Yvette. I did not hear what they said, nor did Mistress Yvette later confide in me, but from the occasional worried glance they threw toward Lady Adelie it was clear what they discussed.
On the third day — the day before we were to depart for the final push to Pengraic — Stephen again came to his mother. This day he voiced his concern openly.
He sat on a stool by her knee, almost like a little boy come to beg his mother’s favour, and took her hand between his.
‘My lady,’ he said, his voice gentle, ‘you are not well, and this journey has done you no favours. I grow worried for you and wonder if we should not rest here a little longer that you may regain your strength.’
‘We will be safer at Pengraic, Stephen,’ Lady Adelie said. ‘We will depart tomorrow morn.’
He smiled, and despite myself I felt my heart turn over in my breast. I was chastened by my failure to harden my heart against him completely, and I would have faded further into the shadows if I could, or even quietly left the chamber, but I wanted to know what the outcome of this conversation would be: if we stayed here for the moment, or journeyed on to Pengraic.
‘What news of the plague, Stephen?’ Lady Adelie said. ‘Have you news?’
Stephen hesitated, then gave a small nod. ‘A messenger arrived from my lord father this morning. He has taken a large force and moved south to secure the Cinque Ports, madam, but he is well and sends you his loving greetings.’
‘Praise sweet Jesu he continues well,’ Lady Adelie said, ‘although I fear for him moving toward the Cinque Ports for apparently it is there that the plague rages strongest. I pray sweet Jesu and all saints watch over him and continue to keep him safe.’
She closed her eyes and muttered a small prayer before continuing. ‘But the plague, Stephen. How far has it ravaged?’
‘It continues to move westward, madam,’ he said.
I could see that Stephen squeezed his mother’s hand softly. ‘But for the moment, you are safe. We can afford a few more days’ rest here. You are more important than —’
‘No, no,’ she said, ‘you are important, Stephen. This plague has not yet passed us by. I can feel it in my bones. Last night … last night I dreamed …’
She stopped, and did not continue for a long moment.
‘I dreamed such dark things, and thus we will resume our journey on the morrow, Stephen. It is better we reach Pengraic Castle as soon as we may. This child … I worry about this child. How long, do you think, before we reach Pengraic?’
‘Travelling at a comfortable pace? And yes, madam, it will be comfortable, for I will not risk you by hurrying. Maybe five days. Two to Monemude, then a day to Ragheian, yet another to Bergeveny, and then it is but a pleasant morning’s ride home.’
Five days. Five days and then we would be at Pengraic Castle.
Stephen rose from his mother, but before he turned to leave the chamber he sought out my eyes.
There was no laughter or warmth there, only soberness and worry.
Once we left Glowecestre we were truly leaving the security of England and moving ever toward the frontier territory of the Welsh Marches. We travelled through winding roads and gentle valleys and forested hills. Sometimes, when we were high enough, I caught a glimpse of mountains to the west. Alice spoke, noticing the direction of my gaze.
‘The Black Mountains,’ she said. ‘Pengraic Castle sits at one of the southern spurs of those mountains, overlooking the Usk Valley.’
I nodded, not moving my eyes from the mountains. As the clouds shifted, so pools of sunlight raced across them. They looked wild and untamed, and a shiver went down my spine.
There lay Pengraic.
We came upon Pengraic on the fifth day, as Stephen had predicted. We’d reached the small town of Bergeveny at mid-afternoon the previous day, the mountains now so close it felt as though I only needed reach out my hand to touch them. I was in a state of part excitement, part dread. Stephen had spoken well of Pengraic, but almost everyone else appeared to have sunk ever further into themselves as we drew close. The past few days I’d barely had more than 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.