The Devil's Diadem (33 page)

‘Many say Madog is an honourable man,’ Owain said mildly, and d’Avranches spared him a longer, harder glance.

‘With a sharp sword and a penchant for revenge,’ d’Avranches said, fastening his helmet. Then he turned, shouting for his knights to mount and grabbing the reins of his own horse.

I stood back hastily as they booted their horses toward the main gate. Guards opened the wicket gate for them, then slammed and bolted it as soon as the last rider was through.

Again hesitating, then reminding myself I was the countess, I walked over to the wicket gate, which had a small eye-level window in it.

‘Is it safe to see?’ I asked one of the guards.

He nodded, opening the little door that covered the barred window, and I stepped close.

The Welsh had halted just where the road to the castle doglegged before turning into the final straight stretch to the main gates. They were well ordered, armoured and weaponed in maille and helmets, shields, and carrying either spears or lances as well as their swords. All wore red tunics under their maille. At their head sat one man on a horse, holding the flagstaff, a white flag fluttering at its head.

Next to him sat another rider.

His entire bearing, his armour, his accoutrements, spoke of his authority.

Madog ap Gruffydd, Prince of the Welsh.

I felt Owain at my shoulder, and I stepped aside so he could see.

‘It is Madog,’ he said, somewhat unnecessarily, ‘and his Teulu.’

‘Teulu?’

‘His personal bodyguard,’ Owain said. ‘He can also call on men from lands under his rule to serve in his army when and if he needs it, but his Teulu stay with him always.’

‘Could he not have come to surrender?’ I asked. ‘The white flag …’

‘He has no reason to surrender,’ Owain said. ‘This is more like the flag of truce. Gruffydd wants to talk and that is why d’Avranches has gone. To find out what he wants.’

‘Isn’t that dangerous?’

‘Yes.’ Owain stepped back, letting me see again.

D’Avranches and his party had reached the Welsh, halting some six or seven paces away from Madog.

‘He is so vulnerable,’ I murmured.

‘If the Welsh attacked,’ Owain said, ‘yes. But the Welsh themselves are within arrow strike of the castle and you can be sure your husband has several score of arrows trained on them right now. If the Welsh attacked d’Avranches and his men, they would not escape unscathed. But I do not think they mean to attack.’

Every so often, as the wind blew our way, I could hear snatches of voices, if not distinct words. Eventually d’Avranches looked up to where Raife stood atop the walls, and made a gesture. He waited, obviously for some response from Raife, then looked back to Madog, giving a single nod.

Madog pulled his horse to one side, and d’Avranches and his party rode forward, being absorbed into the Welsh ranks.

I stepped back to let Owain have a view. ‘What is happening?’ I said. ‘Madog wants to talk,’ Owain said. ‘D’Avranches and his men stay as hostages for Madog’s safe return. The Welsh are returning down the road — they’ll wait at the foot of the mountain. Stand back now, my lady. Madog approaches.’

I retreated hastily, just as the guards opened the wicket gate.

Madog clattered through.

He turned his head to look at me almost immediately — I was closer to him than any save Owain — and I suddenly realised that I must look like a wild wood maid, with my hair loose and tangled about me.

I could not see his face, for he wore a helmet much like those in Norman fashion and it obscured most of his face, but otherwise he had an exotic feel about him — his tunic was a rich, deep red like that of his men, and the designs on it and on his shield — hung behind his saddle — were unfamiliar.

Then he was past me, and halted before my husband, who had come down from the parapets.

Madog dismounted, and he spoke with Pengraic quietly. The men came to some agreement, each nodding, and they turned for the great keep, Madog unbuckling his helmet and taking it off as they did so.

Again I hesitated, not knowing what I should do, but Raife turned, made an impatient gesture to me, and thus I hurried after them.

They strode through the central courtyard of the great keep and up the stairwell into the solar. I had to hurry to keep up with them, and by the time I stepped into the solar I was breathing deeply, wishing that I could have had but a few moments of time alone in which to tidy my hair.

Madog dropped his helmet on the top of a bench, making a loud, startling clattering sound in the solar. He turned slowly, taking in his surroundings, eventually coming face to face with me.

I was shocked by his commanding presence. I had always thought of Madog as a savage, a rebel lurking amid the wild, misty hills of Wales, and this darkly handsome clean-shaven man, elegant and assured, was not what I had expected at all. His black hair was very short, close-cropped to his skull, and it accentuated the strong bones of his face and the darkness of his eyes.

He must have been surprised by me. Both the richness of my kirtle and my presence in the solar with them indicated high status.

My wild tangled hair — well, sweet Christ alone knew what he made of that.

I had an urge to dip in courtesy, but forced myself to restraint. ‘My lady,’ Madog said, his voice holding the faintest note of question, as he stepped forward to take one hand to kiss it.

‘My wife, Maeb,’ Pengraic said.

Madog did not let go of my hand. His eyes were warm, very dark, glittering with something I thought may have been amusement. ‘This lovely countess is not the one I remember,’ he said.

I had thought he would have a coarse accent, but his voice, like his appearance, was well modulated and sweet, and he spoke courtly French well, with no hint of difficulty.

‘Adelie died in the plague,’ Raife said.

‘And took her comb with her,’ Madog murmured to me, low enough that Raife, standing by the hearth, would not have heard.

‘A tragic loss,’ Madog said, in a louder voice, dropping my hand and walking over to Raife. ‘But I hear loss was extreme at this castle. Your children?’

‘Dead,’ Raife said. ‘What do you want?’

‘Not even wine with which to smooth our reacquaintance?’ Madog said.

I moved to the table, where stood a pitcher of spiced wine and wine cups, serving both my husband and Madog. Then I moved away, walking briefly into the privy chamber to fetch my comb before returning to the solar, sitting on a chair slightly distanced from those about the hearth, and combing out my hair as I listened to the men talking, watching to see if they needed more wine.

There were few pleasantries exchanged. They talked about the plague, Madog pressing Raife for information about how badly the plague had struck the castle, Raife just as assiduously avoiding giving him any information.

‘But it must have been bad,’ Madog said, ‘if its toll including the tragic loss of your wife and children.’

‘It was bad enough,’ Raife said. ‘And you, Madog? How did your lands fare?’

I remembered my husband’s earlier keenness to discover how far the plague had travelled into Welsh territory, and I listened carefully for Madog’s answer.

‘The death scarcely brushed us,’ Madog said. ‘God’s punishment only extended to the English, it seems.’

‘I heard hundreds died in this valley alone.’

‘Then you heard wrong. Less than a dozen died in the Usk Valley and none deeper into my lands.’

I could hear no deception in Madog’s voice and looked to my husband. One of his hands was idly stroking his chin as he studied Madog, and I thought I saw some uncertainty in his eyes.

‘But I thank you for your concern,’ Madog said, waving his cup about.

I rose and fetched the pitcher, refilling Madog’s cup as Raife grunted in response to what he had said.

‘My lady,’ Madog said as thanks, and for one moment I was stilled, spellbound by his powerful eyes.

‘But to the point,’ Madog continued, as I returned the pitcher to its table top. ‘The devastation of the plague is why I am here. Surely you have guessed my anxiety?’

Pengraic raised an eyebrow as I sat down once more. ‘My wife,’ Madog said quietly. ‘My son. Are they still living?’

His wife and son? Why should my husband know about them?

‘I do not know,’ Raife said. ‘My concern was always for
my
family, not yours.’

‘And yet you have had as guest recently Prince Henry. He said
nothing
?’

I was entirely lost in this conversation.

‘We had other things of which to speak,’ Raife said, and, so far as I knew him by now, I knew he was dissembling.

‘My lady,’ Madog said, suddenly swivelling in his chair so he could look me in the eye, ‘perhaps you might have sympathy on a fretful husband and father.’

‘My lord,’ I said, ‘I have no idea —’

‘You have no idea of what I speak? My lady, do you not know that your countrymen keep my wife and my son locked in some dark dungeon? That your king and your new-wedded husband conspire to keep my —’

‘I have nothing to do with it,’ Raife snapped, ‘which is why I know not if they have succumbed to the plague.’

‘Where are they?’ Madog demanded, turning once more to my husband. ‘What jail now confines them?’

‘I don’t know
what
Edmond has done with them!’

‘Edmond has my Lord Madog’s wife and children?’ I said, helplessly, endeavouring to understand.

Madog once more swivelled to me. I was beginning to think that maybe I should move my place, simply to prevent Madog from succumbing to dizziness.

‘My lady,’ he said, his voice softer now he addressed me, those magnificent eyes of his just as compelling, ‘in this month last year, the bastard Earl of Chestre led a raiding party into my northern lands, taking my wife and the infant son she had just birthed into captivity. Since then, Edmond has been using them as bargaining tools, hoping, I think, I might hand him Wales in its entirety for my wife’s and son’s return.’

Now his voice hardened again. ‘Chestre — Ranulf de Gernon — is, as well you realise, close kin to this castle’s garrison commander, d’Avranches —’

I had no idea, but did not let my ignorance show on my face. ‘— and from that connection I have no doubt your husband knows full well where my wife and son are, and how well they are, if they live or not. You have compassion in your eyes, my lady. Can you not persuade your husband to show me some, as well? All I want to know is whether or not they live, and where they are, that I might send them a message of my love and care.’

I had moved to another chair now, closer to the men, that Madog might not have to spend his time swivelling to and fro.

‘My lord,’ I said to my husband, ‘surely knowledge of whether or not they live can bring no harm?’

He just looked at me, his eyes narrowed and cold.

I knew he was angry at my intervention, but I also felt for Madog, and for his wife who had been imprisoned through no fault of her own, and with a tiny baby. How frightened she must be, so far from her home! And from her husband, who cared enough to risk his life to learn of her fate.

‘It would be a charity, nothing else,’ I said. Then, emboldened by stupidity and little else, I looked at Madog. ‘My lord, perhaps if I find myself in court, and if I find myself close to your wife, I might visit and let her know of your concern? She must be frightened, alone in a strange land. I pray she and your son have survived the plague, my lord. It has been so terrible here. This castle alone lost most of its garris—’

‘Enough, you witless girl!’ Raife said, his voice a snarl, and I looked at him, startled into silence and not a little frightened by his tone and expression.

Madog chuckled. ‘You should have poured the wine yourself, Pengraic. But I thank you, my lady, for you have served me well. Aye, if perchance you find yourself close to that dark and rank prison where my lady wife lies disconsolate, then —’

‘Maeb, leave,’ Raife snapped. I stood up, almost blinded by tears at my own stupidity, and stumbled into the privy chamber, shutting the door behind me.

I sat there, cold, shivering from time to time, until the late afternoon. I heard Madog and my husband talking for another while — I could hear their voices but not their words — before I heard sounds of them leaving.

I went to the window. I had to crane to see, but I made out Madog riding from the castle and d’Avranches and his party riding back in.

Madog turned to ride down the mountain and, as he did so, he looked up to the castle and saluted.

I may have been imagining it, and I likely was, but it seemed to me that he had seen me at the window, and that salute was meant for me.

After a while I heard voices in the solar again. My husband. D’Avranches. Several other knights. They talked a short time, then the door to the privy chamber opened and Raife walked in.

He slammed the door shut. ‘I have no idea why I took you to wife!’ he said, his voice loud enough for the words to be clearly distinguishable in the solar beyond the door.

I winced, and said nothing.

‘What did you think you were doing?’ he said. ‘I stopped you just before you gave Madog a list of who died and in what state the castle garrison currently lies! As it is he knows now we are vulnerable. Sweet Jesu, Maeb, are you in his employ?’

I dropped my eyes to my lap, humiliated that d’Avranches and the others heard this, too.

Raife stalked to a far wall, standing staring at it as if the stonework contained something fascinating.

‘I felt compassion for him,’ I said softly. ‘For Christ’s sake, Maeb, the man has been raiding English territory for most of his life,’ Raife said, now pacing in short, hard steps about the chamber. ‘Hundreds —
including
innocent mothers and babies — have died. The fact that Chestre had the nerve to capture his wife and son means that, for the time being, Madog’s raids have ceased as he does what he can to win their return.’

Thankfully his tone had moderated a little now.

‘I didn’t know,’ I said.

‘No. You didn’t know. In future, when you “don’t know”, then refrain from commenting! Your duty is to support me, not undermine me!’