Here Alianor and I split, too. Alianor loved to hunt with her falcon, and so she peeled off to join the hunting in the marshlands. I had hesitated, but eventually decided to stay with the main group who headed into the forest — to Ghent’s evident relief.
Alianor gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and said we should meet up in the field later, and then she was off, calling to her falconer to join her.
Dulcette and I headed into the forest. This was relatively lightly wooded land, but with trees that were from ancient times. They stood all about us: elm, beech, oak, chestnut, and many others, mostly unleaved now, their ancient trunks twisted and gnarled and thick, their branches arching and winding overhead to provide a canopy as fine as any stone vault I had ever seen. The ground underneath was thickly carpeted in autumn leaves. Sunlight streamed from overhead in many-splintered sunbeams, piercing the thin morning mist which was still trapped among the trees.
I had never seen anything so beautiful, nor so peaceful.
I reined in Dulcette, letting the hunting party stream ahead, the dogs baying, the riders shouting. I just wanted to enjoy this mystical, ancient, comforting forest.
I rode for a while, grateful that the horses and their riders and the dogs had gone far ahead — I could just make them out at the limits of my hearing. Dulcette seemed content to pace along at an extended walk — I think she, too, revelled in the calm and peace of the forest.
Poor Ghent rode his horse behind me. I could hear the despondent thudding of its hooves into the soft carpet of leaves, and I thought both Ghent and horse must have wished desperately to be riding with the hunt.
I looked over my shoulder. Ghent and his horse, riding ten or so paces behind me, were bathed in bright dappled sunlight, so much so that I could barely make out any features of either horse or rider.
‘I am most sorry, Gilbert,’ I said, ‘to be such a sluggard at the hunt.’
He made a deprecating gesture with his leather-gloved hand, managing to convey that somehow he, too, was enjoying the peaceful, sunlit ride. Happier, I turned back to the path, sitting so relaxed that I thought I could almost doze in the comparative warmth of the forest.
After a while I did actually catch myself dozing, and thought that perhaps I should make my way to the field where we were to feast. Hopefully by now the servants would have set up braziers and chairs, and I could doze in more safety there than on Dulcette’s back in the forest.
I turned again in the saddle. ‘Gilbert,’ I said, ‘which way to the field where we are to dine?’
He was still bathed by the bright sun which glinted from every piece of maille that he wore, his concealing helmet, and his gold and silver surcoat. Strange, I had been sure that Ghent had been wearing a blue surcoat earlier, and certainly no maille or helmet, but maybe I had been too excited to take true note. I thought he said something, though I did not quite catch it, but he pointed to the south, turning his horse that way, and so I likewise turned Dulcette and we made our way through the trees.
Ghent rode by my side, now, at a similar distance as he had ridden behind. I had a clearer view of his horse from this perspective, and realised that it was completely white, and that its wavy mane was so long and thick it trailed upon the ground, catching at the leaves. The mane appeared to have diamonds woven through it, as did the horse’s flagged tail.
Strange I had not noticed that before and I wondered where Ghent had found such a courser, and where he had obtained the fistfuls of diamonds that littered its tresses.
We rode on. Often trees separated us, and we wove in and out of the ancient forest like partners caught in some sunlit, silent dance, our only music the soft hoof-falls of the horses, our only guide the path laid down by the sunbeams. Sometimes I blinked and thought there were other riders with us, too, noiselessly weaving their way in and out of the trees. Other times I thought a silver wolf, his coat rippling with light, walked majestically with us, but when I opened my mouth to mention the wolf to Ghent, the wolf vanished.
Maybe it was all a trick of the bright light.
I felt an amazing peace. I had Ghent to watch over me, and his presence comforted me immensely. At one point I thought he said something to me about the deaths of Stephen, Rosamund and John, that they were safe and contented and there was no guilt nor burden for me to carry over the manner of their passing. But when I turned my head to answer Ghent (being somewhat surprised that he should talk to me of this), I saw that he was almost twenty paces away, his horse still weaving silently in and out of the trees, in and out. As he was too far away for conversation, I thought I must have dreamed it.
Maybe the voice was a construct of my conscience, and its interaction with the tranquillity and beauty of the forest and its almost unearthly light.
Yet, somehow, even now I can still hear the voice, and am sure someone must have spoke the words.
I know that this ride cleansed my soul of guilt, and that from this day forward I remembered Stephen, Rosamund and John with uncomplicated love.
Eventually, too soon for me, Ghent reined in his magnificent horse and nodded ahead, and I saw that beyond the trees lay a field festooned with colourful tents, pennants fluttering at their peaks.
If ever you need me, he said, call for me. I will always protect you.
I sighed, deeply reluctant to give up the serenity of this ride, and thanked Ghent for his trouble and the companionable nature of his guardianship.
But he was gone and I frowned in puzzlement. How could he have vanished so quickly? Had he been so anxious to rejoin the hunt?
I rode from forest to field, shaking off my almost dreamlike state, and raised a smile as I saw Alianor standing before a brazier, warming her hands.
‘How was the hunt?’ I asked her, as a groom hurried to help me dismount. She grimaced and said that the herons had flown away from the marshes during the night, and there were none left to hunt.
Even the falcons were sulking.
We settled in chairs, taking the warmed wine a servitor brought us. Most of the other falconers had returned as well, and the field was bright with colour and chatter and movement.
‘Look,’ said Alianor, ‘here come the forest hunters!’
I turned in my chair slightly, and there, indeed, came a procession of riders out of the forest. At their head was Raife, riding his horse hard. Gilbert Ghent was just behind him. Raife was shouting something, and only after a moment did I realise it was my name.
Someone, a falconer, pointed to where Alianor and I sat, and Raife rode over to us at such an abandoned pace that servants and cooks and other dismounted hunters scattered to avoid his steaming horse.
‘Maeb!’ Raife jumped down from his horse. ‘You are well?’
I frowned. ‘Of course. Raife, what is this fuss?’
‘You vanished from the forest and this … this bastard cur of a dog,’ he indicated Ghent, who was standing behind looking deeply chastened, ‘had misplaced you. We feared you were still lost among the trees!’
‘Well, as you can see, I am perfectly safe and well, and was enjoying the peaceful sun until you rode up. But what is this about Ghent? He accompanied me all the way to the forest edge.’
I looked to Ghent to confirm this, and with a sudden drop of my stomach realised he was, indeed, wearing a blue surcoat.
Not the gold and silver surcoat of my companion.
Ghent wore no helmet or maille, unlike my companion.
His horse was a chestnut, not the white, diamond-gilded mount of my companion.
‘My lady,’ Ghent said, ‘I did not. I lost you soon after we entered the forest.’
‘But …’ I said.
‘Maeb?’ said Raife. ‘What is it? Did someone follow you?’
‘A knight accompanied me,’ I said. ‘I thought it was Gilbert, but the sunlight made it hard to see properly. I was sure it was Gilbert! But he wore a gold and silver surcoat … not that blue that Gilbert wears now.’
Raife and Gilbert exchanged glances, Gilbert giving a slight shake of his head.
‘I have seen no one wearing a surcoat of that description,’ said Raife. ‘Alianor?’
She gave a shake of her head also.