Page 55

I t was just at sunset and a warm stillness had settled over the land.

The sun was kissing the horizon, turning the sky shades of pink and orange, and the trees were swaying gently in the breeze as the birds were settling in for the night.

As the tiny, old palfrey plodded along the dirt road beneath the fluttering branches, dust and leaves scattered.

It was just another evening in a long line of evenings that had made up the unspectacular life of Maitland de Ryes Bowlin.

Sitting atop the little gray palfrey, it was a rare time that she was actually riding the beast because it was so old.

The little creature got tired easily if it had to carry Maitland’s insignificant weight, but even so, she’d kept off the animal for the most part and had practically walked all the way from Newcastle.

But she hadn’t minded, in truth. The weather had been excellent, so excellent that she and her traveling companion, Tibelda, had made excellent time between walking and riding the ancient palfreys that had been provided to them by the diocese in Newcastle.

In fact, everything they had was donated– horses, clothing, traveling bag.

All of it had come from church donations and had, at one time, been fine in their original states.

The little horses had once been quite strong and pretty, the satchels had been excellently crafted, and the clothing had been draped across the frames of rich women.

But now, everything was worn and threadbare, yet serviceable. They were grateful for it.

The two Beguines had taken the road north from Newcastle, a smaller road that navigated between the larger road to the east along the coast, and the still-larger road further off to the west that carved through the middle of Northumberland and headed straight up into Scotland.

The road Maitland and her companion had taken snaked up through some remote lands and through a chain of unremarkable villages until it reached the village of Coldstream, which was just to the east of Wark Castle.

Even now, as the colors of sunset deepened, Maitland could see the big walls of Wark Castle off to the west. In fact, as they drew closer, the gray stone walls were silhouetted against the sky, and with the shadows, the place appeared a lovely shade of purple.

It was fascinating. The sun was sinking and the land was darkening, and Maitland and her companion pushed their little horses as fast as they could go, making their way to the castle just as an enormous party with hundreds of armed men and a big, fortified carriage entered the gatehouse.

The ladies waited until the entire party passed through the rather large gatehouse with a small portcullised opening.

It meant that only two or three mounted men at a time could pass through.

Having fostered at Alnwick years ago, Maitland knew something of castles, of their size and importance, and she’d always been fascinated by the military aspects of them.

It was one of her many interests which her late husband had not appreciated.

To him, a woman should only have womanly interests, one issue between them in a long line of issues that had gone from bad to worse before his untimely death.

She tried hard not to think of Henry these days.

The gate guards gave her their attention after the enormous party passed through, and she and her companion were taken to the guard chamber just inside the portcullis while someone took their palfreys to the stables and yet someone else went in search of her brother, Desmond.

That was the entire reason Maitland had come to Wark Castle– to see the brother she’d not seen in a couple of years, at least. Not since her husband’s burial, where he’d tried not to show too much joy in it.

But Maitland knew; she’d always known what Desmond thought of Henry Bowlin.

Death was his preference for the man.

In truth, Desmond was some time in coming because of the big party in the ward.

He’d been needed to help settle them, but when he arrived at the guard room, the delight on his face was evident at the sight of his sister.

Maitland was lifted right out of the chair and swung around until she ended up kicking a poor soldier who happened to be standing too close.

Desmond only laughed.

“Mae!” he cried, kissing her on the cheek as he set her down. “My God– little Mae! Is it really you? I am not dreaming?”

Maitland shook her head, patting her brother on the cheek. “It is no dream,” she said, her eyes glimmering as she looked at her big, older brother. “Des, life has been good to you. Have you been well?”

He nodded firmly. “Well enough,” he said. “And you? How has it been in Newcastle?”

Maitland shrugged, though she was still smiling. “I have had my work,” she said. “I have led a busy and useful life.”

“You must have if the church is giving you a charity of your own,” he said. “I am very proud of you, Mae. I always knew you would do good for this world.”

She laughed softly. “And just when did you know that?” she asked. “In between pulling my hair and trying to put frogs in my pockets?”

Desmond had a mischievous little grin. “It was fun,” he said simply. “You screamed beautifully.”

“I still do. But if you try your tricks now that I am a grown woman, you shall find that I will retaliate.”

It was his turn to laugh. “I promise, no tricks,” he said. “I am very glad to see you. How long can you stay?”

“Only for the night,” she said. “We must be to Edenside by tomorrow. It is not far away, is it?”

Desmond shook his head. “Not at all,” he said. “In fact, it will be a half-day’s ride at most. I am very happy because now you will be close to me. We can see each other all of the time.”

Maitland looped her arm through his. “You can come and visit me,” she said. “But for now, we are weary and require something to eat. Do you have a place where my companion and I may rest?”

She was indicating Tibelda, who nodded shortly when Desmond glanced at her. She was older, rounder, and with a big, red nose. He returned his attention to the much more pleasant sight of his sister.

“Of course,” he said. “Come with me now. I shall show you where you may sleep tonight.”

With her satchel in one hand and her other hand gripping her brother’s elbow, Maitland followed Desmond as he led her and Tibelda out of the guard room and into the bailey beyond.

It was still crowded, but the majority of the large party had disbanded.

Maitland looked at the men and their banners with interest.

“I have seen those red and yellow banners, I think,” she said to her brother. “Who has come?”

Desmond eyed the escort. “The Earl of Northumbria, Edmund de Vauden, from Kyloe Castle,” he said. “But some of the crowd in the bailey is still part of the de Wolfe escort that arrived about an hour ago. You did not see them on the road?”

Maitland shook her head. “We did not see anyone at all.”

“Which way did you come?”

“Up the road that crossed through the village of Wooler.”

At that point, the conversation faded a bit as Desmond led the two women through the remains of Northumbria’s escort in the attempt to take them someplace that wasn’t crawling with men and animals, someplace safe.

Even so, Maitland was much more interested in everything around her, castle included, as her brother dragged her through the crowd.

Wark was an oddly-shaped castle with those big gray walls but, inside it, the dimensions were rather strange.

The whole thing seemed to be built on a slope that angled up before coming to a crest and then sloping downward towards the River Tweed.

As they walked, they were walking uphill, heading for the keep, which was another oddly-shaped but rather large structure atop a walled motte.

To Maitland’s right, hidden behind the crowd of men and animals, was a great hall on the river side of the bailey.

Cutting the bailey in half was another wall, creating an inner ward around the keep, and they had to pass through that to get to the keep itself.

More hiking up the slope led them to steps that took them up to the big keep, high above the river and the countryside, with views for miles.

Before they entered, Desmond turned to her.

“We have several important guests here tonight,” he said, “not the least of which are my liege’s parents and the father of the woman he is to marry. My chamber is in the keep, right next to the entry door, and I am going to give you my chamber for the night so that you will be more comfortable.”

Maitland smiled. “Thank you, Des,” she said. “I am sure we will be very comfortable. And I promise we will not be any trouble at all. Just a little food and we shall go right to sleep.”

Desmond frowned. “You shall eat in the hall tonight, with me,” he said. “I have not seen you in years, Mae. Would you truly deny me some time to get reacquainted with my little sister?”

Maitland struggled to keep the smile on her face.

She was exhausted and sitting in a hall of strangers wasn’t exactly something she was eager to do.

She would have been much happier with a meal brought to her chamber, but she could see from the expression on Desmond’s face that such a request would not be well met. In resignation, she nodded.

“Of course not,” she said. “But Tibelda need not join us. She can remain in the chamber while I join you. I hope that is acceptable.”

“I should say so,” Desmond said. “Come on, then. Let’s get you settled. Then I am eager to introduce you to my liege. I have told you about him.”

“Who is your liege?”

“Thomas de Wolfe.”

“De Wolfe,” Maitland said thoughtfully. “I know that name.”

“You should. His family controls the entire northern section of Northumberland, up to the borders. You are on the border right now, in fact. Did you know that? Scotland is just over that river.”

Maitland caught a glimpse of the river before Desmond took her inside the darkened keep, stopping at the very first door they came to and shoving it open.

Beyond, it was almost pitch black until Desmond sparked a flint and stone, lighting a fat yellow taper on a table next to the door.

Beyond, a tiny and rather crowded chamber came to life.

There was a narrow rope bed, a table and chair, a trunk, and little else.

Maitland could see, already, that she and Tibelda were going to have trouble squeezing onto that tiny bed, but she made no mention of it.

She simply set her satchel down on the table as her brother crouched down next to the dark hearth, trying to spark a blaze.

“Will you permit me to clean up a little before I join you in the hall?” she asked him. “We have been traveling for four days and I should like to wash my hands and face.”

A flame flickered in the hearth and Desmond stirred it about, watching the blaze quickly grow. “I will have a servant bring you hot water,” he said. “Hurry and wash. I will return for you shortly.”

Maitland smiled at him as he brushed off his hands and quit the chamber, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Once he was gone, Maitland gave off a little sigh of relief, happy that she had made her destination.

Looking around the chamber, she once again saw how tiny it was, and the first thing her eyes fell on was Tibelda.

The woman had fallen onto the small bed and was already sound asleep.

Cocking an eyebrow at her traveling companion, Maitland could see that the best thing she could look forward to that night was a blanket on the floor.

Already, it was going to be a long night.