Edmond had planned a dawn meal and bonfires in the fields beyond the outer bailey to celebrate All Souls Day.
I thought he was mad.
But at least there would be bonfires.
We proceeded to the field beyond the outer bailey on foot, as it was not far. Once we were across the bridge we could see the bonfires Edmond had caused to be made, and other nobles arriving on horseback from London.
Raife and I made for the nearest bonfire.
Edmond was already here, moving among the groups standing huddled about the fires, looking cheerful. Evelyn and Isouda, who had accompanied us, moved elsewhere and to my surprise I saw Evelyn talking briefly with Prince Henry.
I thought that I would later ask her of what they spoke, but also reminded myself that she possibly knew him from the time she had been close to Edmond.
Henry of Blois, the Bishop of Wincestre, led us in prayers for the dead and then, official duties done, we were free for revelries for the day.
For most of us, that started with warm food and an even warmer place by one of the bonfires.
I had just taken a trencher filled with a stew of meat, and was congratulating myself on a good place by a fire, when there came a distant shout.
It took me a moment to orientate myself. Then, following the direction others looked, I turned to the Tower.
It rose, gilded almost pink in the dawn light, its parapets picked out by the first rays of the sun.
Something was happening on top of the Tower.
I heard Edmond shout something, and I saw soldiers, who had been standing about, race for the Tower.
I quickly sought out Raife for reassurance — he was standing not so far from me — then looked back to the Tower.
Soldiers on the parapets were chasing someone … a woman I thought by the flying hair behind her. She ran from the north-western tower along the parapets toward the south-west tower.
But there, suddenly, soldiers appeared and the woman stopped halfway. She desperately turned this way and that, and then, horribly, she leaned over the parapets and, just as a soldier grabbed at her, fell.
I watched her tumble over and over all the way down, my heart in my mouth, my trencher of food now splattered on the ground before me, only losing sight of her as she fell beneath the height of the outer curtain wall of the outer bailey.
Silence.
Then people started running and shouting.
Raife was beside me. ‘Who?’ he wondered aloud.
I did not need a close inspection of the body to know who it had been, for her red hair had floated out behind her all the way down to the ground.
‘Mevanou,’ I said. ‘Wife of Madog.’
Soldiers were scrambling about the outer bailey, into which Mevanou had fallen. Raife and I were among the first to arrive into the outer bailey. Like everyone else, we hurried over to where Mevanou had fallen.
Immediately I wished I hadn’t. Mevanou had first fallen onto the roof of the falcon mews, and then slid onto a grassy patch to one side.
Her face and upper body were covered in blood, her limbs lying at odd angles.
She was not moving.
People gathered. The scene was made even more gruesome by the shrill cries of the falcons in their mews, disturbed as they had been by the terrible bang on their roof.
‘Who —’ someone asked, and I opened my mouth to answer, but Prince Henry spoke before I could.
‘It is Mevanou, wife of Madog ap Gruffydd.’
‘But how did she escape her chambers?’ Edmond said, stepping forward.
Henry looked straight at me. ‘I think we should ask the Countess of Pengraic that,’ he said.
Everyone looked at me, then, but in my shock I saw only one face and registered its expression.
It was Edmond, and his face was swathed in reluctant suspicion.
Chapter Three
How can you name my wife!’ Raife said immediately. ‘She has had no dealings with —’
‘I am afraid she has, Pengraic,’ Edmond said. ‘While you were away tending your estates I know she visited Mevanou on at least one occasion.’
Raife turned to look at me, his face equal parts anger and worry.
‘And again last night,’ Henry said, ‘she went to the Welsh princess’ window. Did the countess pass Mevanou something? A key?’
‘No,’ I said, ‘I was walking the inner bailey only.’
‘And yet you went straight to her window,’ Henry said. ‘Why?’
‘I thought I heard something,’ I said. ‘I looked and realised it was Mevanou’s window, and thought I saw her face, so I went over.’
‘Murder and death follow you everywhere, don’t they, countess?’ Henry said, and I felt cold fear slide down my spine.
‘We take this inside,’ said Edmond. ‘Now.’
‘You went to see Mevanou?’ Raife hissed at me as we climbed the wooden stairs into the Tower. He had his hand tight about my elbow and I gave an experimental tug to see if he would release me.
No.
‘Once only,’ I said. ‘How can Henry accuse me of —’
‘And last night?’
‘As I said, Raife! And as I told you last night! I was walking to relieve my cramps and aches, when I thought I heard —’
We had reached the top of the steps and Raife pulled me almost roughly into the lesser hall. In front and behind us tramped what I thought was a horde of people. Whatever Henry wished to accuse me of, it did not seem as if it would be before any lesser number people than had been outside.
‘God’s mercy,’ Raife muttered. ‘Henry would not have come into the open with his accusations if he didn’t have certain intelligence. What does he know, Maeb?’
‘I don’t know!’ I said. ‘I don’t know!’
‘I had trusted you not to betray me, Maeb. Trusted you!’
I wanted to reply, or defend myself, but Raife dragged me down the hall, then to the stairs inside the north-eastern tower. It was dark and close inside, and I was beginning to feel very sick.
It was a relief to step into the gallery on the third level.
We went straight to the great hall. Edmond led us to one of the fireplaces and gestured me into a chair before it. Raife stood just behind me, a hand on my shoulder. People gathered about, a few score, maybe even more. There were many nobles present — Alianor and her husband Robert de Lacy (Alianor looking worried), Chestre, Pembroke, Richemont, the Bishop of Wincestre, and many others. Fulke d’Ecouis was here, too, and somehow I was not surprised.
Henry stood to the fore, looking calm and certain.
‘What is this about?’ Edmond said.
‘The Countess of Pengraic,’ Henry said, ‘had become close to Mevanou, wife of Madog ap Gruffydd. She —’
‘That is not true —’ I began.
‘Peace, my lady,’ Edmond said. ‘You shall have opportunity for your say in turn.’
‘The countess had promised Madog that she would look after his wife and aid her in every way she could,’ Henry continued. ‘The countess was much taken with Madog, with his handsome face and sly, cunning manner. One must wonder what she promised him.’
Where had he heard this?
I knew. I knew almost as soon as I thought the words and my heart sank.
Henry would know almost everything.
‘The countess stood close by Mevanou’s window last night. She dismissed her attending woman so she could do this alone. Did she pass Mevanou a key? Most probably, for Mevanou let herself out this morning, and —’
‘Let me speak to the guard at her door,’ Edmond said, and we waited in stiff silence until the man was fetched.
He was pale and sweaty, as he thought he had every right to be.
Everyone else in the hall knew differently. The guard would not be carrying the blame for this.
‘Soldier,’ said Edmond. ‘What happened at the Lady Mevanou’s door this morning? How did she manage to leave her chamber?’
‘I went to the kitchens to bring her food so she could break her fast,’ the soldier said. ‘When I left the door was locked and there was no one else about. When shortly I returned, the door was standing open and the lady had fled.’
‘Can the door be unlocked from the inside?’ Edmond asked.
‘Yes, my lord,’ said the soldier.
Next Edmond called for the two guards who had stood at the gateway between the inner and outer baileys last night.
They confirmed what Henry had said, that Evelyn and I had walked about the inner bailey together, then I had sent her to the porch, while I walked over to stand close by Mevanou’s window.
‘My lady,’ Edmond said to me, ‘had you anything to do with the Lady Mevanou’s escape?’
I stood. ‘No, my lord king. I did visit Mevanou once, as you know, out of obligation because I had said to Madog that I would seek her out and pass to her his love and concern. But I did not linger, for Mevanou found my visit unwelcome, and she was most impolite to me.