And thus we were free to explore a little. I was thrilled. While I marvelled at the richness and luxury of the lord’s chambers, I still longed for the open air and the sun on my face. I took Rosamund by the hand and together we descended the stairwell.
The kitchens and the courtyard of the great keep were alive with activity: servants hurried to and fro, and the courtyard had a half score of horses being groomed. I gathered Rosamund in my arms, not wanting her to be trampled, and together we walked through the gate to the inner bailey.
I’d only had a glimpse of the inner bailey when we’d first arrived, as upon entering the main gate I’d been directed into the great keep’s courtyard. I’d had a sense of great space, and I knew I’d seen trees and gardens, which had surprised me.
Now, as I slipped through the keep’s gateway to the inner bailey, I could see that the walls enclosed a vast area, two large portions of which were given over to orchards, herb and food gardens. I turned to my left where there was a garden growing in the space bounded by the keep, the outer ring of defence wall and the chapel, a large and gracious building which ran from the outer wall into the centre of the bailey. It was a large garden, sheltered from the constant movement of men and horses through the inner bailey by a waist-height picket fence, and so I was happy to let Rosamund run free once we’d walked through the fence’s gateway.
I kept an eye on Rosamund, making sure she disturbed none of the plants, but mostly I let her be as I strolled along the garden paths. The scent from the flowers and the pungent leaves of the herbs, the gentle hum of the bees, the sun on my face … I breathed in deeply, closing my eyes briefly as I relaxed.
When I opened them again I saw that a man approached from a door in the chapel; the castle priest, from his robes and tonsure.
‘You must be Mistress Maeb Langtofte,’ he said as he came to a halt before me. He had a pleasant face, well featured, with a strong nose, warm brown eyes and a fringe of dark hair that flopped over his brow. He was only some five or six years older than me.
‘You know me?’ I said, surprised.
‘Who else could you be?’ the priest said, then inclined his head. ‘I am Brother Owain.’ He nodded at the chapel. ‘And there my realm. I knew you because I know all of the countess’ women … save for her new attending woman. Thus, you must be she.’
‘I am indeed,’ I said. I indicated the garden. ‘Should I not be here, Brother Owain? I could not resist. Both Rosamund and myself needed the sun on our faces, and the fresh air. I thought …’
‘You are most welcome to the garden,’ Owain said. ‘Its purpose is to soothe the soul as much as the flesh. But keep Rosamund away from that far corner. It harbours dark plants I use in my herbals, and if she were to eat them, then it would not go well for her.’
I nodded, glancing about to make sure Rosamund was nowhere near the dangerous herbs. She was wandering through the garden close to the chapel, studying various flower heads in childish wonder, and I relaxed.
‘How do you find Pengraic, mistress?’ Owain said.
For a moment I thought he meant the earl, then realised he talked of the castle.
‘I find it very formidable,’ I said. ‘I feel a little lost.’
‘It is overwhelming when first you enter it,’ Owain said. ‘Initially you only see its towering walls, and the great slabs of stone. But after a while …’
‘Yes?’
‘After a while you begin to see its loveliness, too.’
I looked about, wondering that I should ever find these defences ‘lovely’. I must have been frowning for Owain gave a little laugh. ‘You have been here but days, and I wager you have seen little of the castle save the great keep. I have lived here most of my life, and to me this castle is a world all to itself.’
‘Most of your life?’ I said, curious.
‘Aye,’ Owain said. ‘I was born in Crickhoel — that is the village you passed by to reach the castle — and apart from the years I spent learning my craft in the priory in Glowecestre, I have lived either in the village or this castle all the years of my life.’
‘You are Welsh?’ I said.
‘Indeed, mistress.’
I did not know how to phrase this next question, so I chose vagueness. ‘And yet you are happy here?’
‘Here? In this castle? In this Norman castle?’ Owain chuckled. ‘Yes, I am. This place … it holds much history among my people. It is a sacred spot. We tell myths that come from the people who were here before the Welsh; we have a strong attachment to the past. It is no wonder that Pengraic’s ancestor built his castle here, meaning to impose himself on the Welsh — he had to intimidate both the legends and the Welsh. And to answer your next question, for I see it on your face, yes, my loyalty is to the earl, and to Lord Stephen.’
I opened my mouth to ask another question, wondering that Owain mentioned, as had Stephen, the ancient peoples and the sacredness of this spot, but just at that moment we heard footsteps approaching.
It was Stephen — which fact gave me a warm glow — and another knight. I did not know the other man, but he strode with as much authority as Stephen, and carried about him almost as grand an air of nobility.
‘Owain!’ Stephen said. ‘And Mistress Maeb, guarding my youngest sister. Maeb, you have not met Ralph yet, have you? Then may I present Ralph d’Avranches, the garrison commander at Pengraic.’
I remembered his name from the conversation I’d heard in the solar at Rosseley. D’Avranches was from a distinguished and noble Norman family, and was renowned for his military skill.
‘My lord,’ I said, dipping in courtesy.
‘Mistress,’ d’Avranches said, with the minimum of politeness. He was singularly uninterested in either myself or Owain, and turned immediately back to Stephen, with whom I imagined he had been deep in conversation before Stephen detoured into the garden. ‘If I have your leave, my lord.’
‘By all means,’ Stephen said, and, with a half bow to Stephen, d’Avranches turned on his heel and was gone, his booted feet crunching along the gravel path.
‘I am glad to see you about,’ Stephen said to me. ‘I am sorry I have not attended my mother as I should, but …’ he shrugged. ‘Garrison matters always seem to crowd round me, demanding my attention. How does she keep, Maeb?’
‘She is well enough,’ I said. ‘She has regained some colour, and eats better now she is not constantly travelling. She has a little cough from the dampness of the stone, or perhaps a lingering chill caught while travelling, but otherwise she is much improved.’
‘I am relieved I managed to escort her home safe,’ Stephen said. ‘I worried for her, and the child. There is not yet sign of its birth?’
‘My lady thinks a little while yet, my lord,’ I said.
Stephen nodded, then grinned at Owain. ‘No doubt such tedious household gossip bores you, my friend.’
‘Indeed not, my lord,’ Owain said. He looked to me. ‘I did not know my lady has been unwell. Would you ask her if she would like me to attend on her?’
‘Owain is skilled with herbals,’ Stephen said, ‘and I should have thought to have asked you to visit her before now, Owain. I will attend her this very afternoon, and speak to her of you.’
Owain gave a small bow. ‘I was about to show Mistress Maeb the chapel, my lord. Will you accompany us?’
I was not sure I should be seen with Stephen at all, for I still heeded the countess’ and Evelyn’s warnings. But no one from my lady’s chambers could see us here, and the chapel would be private. No harm could come of it, surely.
Stephen made a movement as if he were about to offer me his arm, then thought better of it. ‘I would be glad of it,’ he said, ‘for the chapel always gives me great peace.’
I collected Rosamund, who had by now picked enough flowers to wind into a chain about her head, and together with Stephen and Owain we entered the southern door of the chapel.
The chapel was dim, lit only by a score of candles and the light from the imposing eastern window (which I took a moment to marvel at, for I had never seen the like). My eyes adjusted slowly to the light and by then Rosamund was squirming in my arms, trying to get down.