I stood still and silent, my expression carefully masked, and waited for him to make a move.
It did not take long.
Sigrid had been introduced to Lady Judith, and refreshments had been called for in Sigrid’s solar, the intention being to let the men talk without the womenfolk to distract them. No doubt Judith would like to freshen up after her journey, too. We were about to withdraw when Tostig called to me.
‘Lady Caitlyn, it is an honour to see you again.’
Wulfstan beckoned me closer, and the prick of inquisitive eyes was piercing as I did as I was asked.
I dropped to a curtsey then straightened, keeping my head bowed. ‘Lord Tostig.’
‘We met in Bruges,’ Tostig said to Wulfstan. ‘Briefly.’ His smile reminded me of a hungry stoat peering into a wren’s nest and seeing the helpless chicks within.
‘We did, my lord,’ I agreed. ‘It was… memorable.’
‘I heard you returned to Normandy. How is the Duke?’
Tostig was playing a subtle game, his cat to my mouse. I understood the meaning and the threat behind his words – he was reminding me that I was far away from William’s protection.
‘He is well, my lord.’ I could hardly say anything else.
‘I understand he is sailing soon?’
‘Yes.’
‘Yet, you are here, at Castle Cary?’
‘I am. Lord Wulfstan has graciously offered me a home.’
Tostig shot a glance at Wulfstan, who said, ‘It is true. I could not see the lady cast out and stand by and do nothing.’
Tostig tilted his head to one side. ‘We shall speak later,’ he promised me. ‘There is much to catch up on.’
I retreated with haste, eager to remove myself from Tostig’s presence, but consoled myself with the hope that now that the Dane was here, my spying might yield a decent harvest.
It was hard balancing being myself and the duties that one of Sigrid’s gentlewomen was required to perform, with being a feline and sneaking around a fortress. The issue was, I could not be in the same place at the same time. Sigrid expected me to attend her, and under any other circumstances I would not have baulked at it. However, when I was with her, I was not where I needed to be, and that was in sight and hearing of Tostig. Not being as concerned about Wulfstan and his many plots, because I would be long gone before he had the opportunity to use me in one of them, I needed to focus my attention on Godwin’s son and his new wife.
The wife was as sharp as an arrow tip, with a feisty intelligent shining out of her. She reminded me a great deal of her niece, although Judith and Matilda were not the least bit alike in looks. Judith was older by several years, and more substantial in form, but she was comely enough with her dark hair and pale skin. She had a pretty laugh, and used it often, charming Sigrid and her ladies with her pleasant manner and quick wit.
Sigrid sucked up the news from Flanders like a hard-ridden horse at the water trough, asking question after question about this lady and that, who was breeding, who had married, and who had died. The two women had a great deal in common, it seemed, so when the gossip and exchange of stories looked set to continue until supper, I took the opportunity to slip away.
It was a risk, but I had to take it. The sooner I discovered what Godwin was up to, the sooner I could return to William. It was pointless waiting until the witching hour, because everyone would be in their beds, and my slinking would be fruitless; it had to be now, when Wulfstan and Tostig had their heads bent together and cups of wine in their hands.
The change was upon me and over quickly, and I crept from my chamber and headed towards the great hall, where the men would inevitably be discussing kings and countries, war and gold.
The hall held a handful of men, a servant or two, and a few dogs. At the far end sat Wulfstan and Tostig, deep in conversation.
‘—and you say Harold has persuaded Diarmait to back your father,’ I heard Wulfstan say when I came close enough. ‘You are certain of this, because if you are not—’
‘I am certain. He is preparing his forces as we speak. But,’ Tostig paused, and looked over his shoulder. I instinctively crouched lower under the bench, although it was impossible for him to see me from where he sat.
‘It is too late in the year to launch an attack. The harvest is upon us and the peasants will not rally with grain in the fields.’ Tostig sounded peeved at the delay.
‘It is sensible to wait. Another few months will make little difference,’ Wulfstan pointed out, ‘and your father will have a better chance of success if he has the people behind him.’
Tostig grunted.
‘Besides, the King will not be expecting an attack from this direction,’ Wulfstan continued. ‘Edward is too busy looking to the north. He expects any threat to come from there. I take it you have been in touch with them?’
‘Of course,’ Tostig scoffed. ‘Leicester, York, Nottingham and Derby, in particular, are all keen for Godwin to be re-established. We Danes do not intend to be pushed aside, and when they hear of what Edward has done now, they will be doubly eager to assist us.’
‘I take it you do not like the idea of a Norman king, then?’
Tostig gave a loud snort. ‘About as much as you do!’
A pause, then Wulfstan said, ‘Do you give me your word that Godwin has no intention of overthrowing Edward?’
‘I do.’ I could not see Tostig’s face, but I heard the truth in his words. This was news indeed – William would be pleased. ‘It is enough that he be restored to his earldom,’ Tostig added.
‘I am surprised…’
Tostig growled. ‘We have discussed this, Wulfstan, over and over. How many more times do you need me to say it? Edith will bear Edward a son, and Danish blood will sit on the throne. But if Edward dies without issue, who will be better placed to rule than the father of the Queen? My father will win, either way.’
‘You do not sound best pleased about it.’
‘I want war. Now.’
‘Ah, the impatience of the young and the ambitious,’ Wulfstan sighed.
‘You will not lose out, either way. You are Godwin’s man. My father will not forget that.’
‘Let us hope so,’ was Godwin’s dry response. ‘What now?’
‘I return to Flanders, although I am not happy about that either, not since that Norman bastard married Baldwin’s daughter. I wonder if the Count was aware that Edward was going to declare Duke William his heir? The wily fucker. I bet he did. He likes to have a foot in both camps, does Baldwin.’
I snorted – Tostig could have been speaking about Wulfstan himself.
Having heard all I needed to hear, I could leave. In fact, I had to leave, because I did not want to consider what might happen if Tostig got his hands on me. His promise of speaking later, had been more like a threat.
The sound I had made had not been a loud one. It should not really have been heard by anyone. Unfortunately, I made it during a lull in the noise in the hall, and when Tostig had just finished talking.
One of the dogs barked just as I was creeping out from under the bench on which Tostig and Wulfstan were sitting, his attention firmly on me. This would not have mattered if Tostig had not chosen that very moment to reach for a jug of wine. The dog’s sudden noise made Tostig glance behind him, just as his fingers groped for the handle, but knocked against it instead and the jug crashed to the floor.
I yowled, as the jug missed me by inches, and turned tail to scarper. But not before I met Tostig’s startled gaze.
He recognised me instantly.
I ran.
I was half-way to safety when something struck me, bowling me over and sending me careening across the floor.
Then my world went dark.
Chapter 31
I was caught up in a thick cloth of some kind and scrabbled frantically to crawl out from underneath it. Before I could escape its musty clutches, I was gathered up, the fabric wrapped tightly around my wriggling body, hard, unforgiving hands
crushing me inside, trapping my paws, smothering my nose. I tried to hiss and spit, but all I succeed in doing was filling my lungs and throat with dry dust.
Struggling frantically, I bit and scratched, snagging my teeth and claws on the threads, growling my fury.
The growls also hid my fear, because I knew whose hands were holding me so tightly.
‘Fetch me a cage. A small one,’ Tostig yelled. I felt the heat of him through the material, heard the menace in his voice. ‘Move!’
He had tied me up like a corpse in a shroud. The analogy was not the most pleasant one I could think of, but it was the most fitting.
‘Leave the bloody thing alone,’ Wulfstan drawled from some distance away, his voice muffled by the material covering me. ‘You were the one who broke the jug, there is no need to take it out on a sodding cat.’
‘It is not a cat,’ Tostig snarled. His fingers were like iron bars around my ribcage, squeezing the air out of me, and I mewled in distress.
‘It looks like a cat to me.’
‘Believe me, it is not. It is that Caitlyn bitch.’
Wulfstan’s laughter echoed around the hall. ‘You, my friend, need to lie down and sober up.’
‘I am fucking sober, and this,’ Tostig shook me until I found the breath to yowl, ‘is The Bastard’s creature.’
‘It is a cat.’
‘I have seen it before,’ Tostig insisted. ‘What took you so long? Put it there. No there, man, on the table. Hold the door open, while I—’
I felt myself being carried, then there was something solid beneath me, and I was shoved and pushed along what I thought might be the table, until I came up hard against a barrier.
‘Here, hold that there,’ Tostig commanded, and I assumed he must be speaking to a servant. ‘Put your fingers through and hold it. Do as I say, man, it won’t bite you.’
The cover was wrenched off me. The first thing I saw was a hand, and it was within reach.
I bit it. Hard.
‘Ow!’
The servant snatched his hand away and wiggled his fingers back through the bars of my cage, then sucked furiously at the wound.
On top of the dust and threads from the material which I could still taste, his blood nearly made me gag. But those were not the only things which sickened me.
I was in a cage!
It was too awful to contemplate.
The crate was made of wood, with latticed sides and a lattice top. Looking at the square holes, I was fairly certain there would not be enough room for me to squeeze my head through. The floor was solid, there was a door at one end, secured with a wooden peg, and the whole thing stank of chicken shit.
‘Bring me a length of chain and a lock,’ Tostig demanded.
I tried my best not to look at him when he spoke, focusing my attention on the poor lad who I had just sunk my teeth into because he was the closest, and I crouched down, tail lashing from side to side and hissing furiously.
‘It looks like a normal cat to me,’ Wulfstan said. He was leaning back in a chair, his feet on a bench, with a cup of ale in his hand. He reminded me of a man about to enjoy watching a group of tumblers.
‘Look at its eyes,’ Tostig said. ‘Have you ever seen the like?’
‘They look normal to me.’ Wulfstan shrugged. ‘Anyway, why would a cat belonging to Duke William be at my castle?’
‘I told you, this is Caitlyn. She is in cahoots with him.’
Wulfstan sniggered. ‘You think this cat is Lady Caitlyn?’
‘Yes, I do. She is a demon, an evil spirit, or, and this is the most likely,’ he said, warming to his tale, ‘she is a witch. And that would explain why King Edward has lost his senses.’
I crouched on the floor of the cage and tried to behave like a cornered cat would, by growling low in my throat, sending threats to anyone within listening distance, and hissing every now and again.
‘Kill it, then,’ Wulfstan said, and his suggestion and the offhand way he said it, chilled my blood.
Suddenly, I knew I did not want to die. Not now and definitely not at Tostig’s hands. I wanted to see William crowned King of England, I wanted to hold his children on my knee. Darn it, I wanted to outlive Arlette, not just because of the satisfaction it would give me, but because I wanted a life of my own, one which was all mine. And it did not matter if it took one year or twenty, I was prepared to wait.
And I was not going to let this shit of a man take it from me.
Tostig took a step closer and bent to peer into my cage.
I snarled at him, tail whipping from side to side. ‘See, look how it behaves. It knows who I am. The fucking thing is spying on us,’ he said abruptly, then grunted. ‘I did not tell you did I, that The Bastard knows Harold is with Diarmaid?’
Wulfstan sat up, letting his booted feet drop to the floor. ‘No, you forgot to mention that,’ he said slowly.
‘Aye, I caught your Lady Caitlyn with a letter to the Duke. I didn’t let on that I could read it. It was in French, but I got the gist. She was sending word to him that Harold was in Ireland. God knows what else she has passed on.’
‘And where was this?’
‘In Bruges.’
‘When?’ Wulfstan’s voice was deceptively quiet, but if Tostig did not hear the threat in it, then he was a fool.
With the attention taken off me for the moment, I relaxed a little, as any normal cat would. I was still not happy, as could be seen by the twitching of my tail, but I had stopped growling and hissing.
‘Not long before The Bastard married Baldwin’s daughter,’ Tostig explained. ‘His witch, Caitlyn stayed with Lady Matilda, and that is when I caught her with the letter. She killed one of my best men, too.’
‘He could not have been that good, if he allowed himself to be taken down by a woman.’
‘She must have used magic,’ Tostig said. ‘I tried to find her, but Matilda’s women said they had not seen her. I thought she was gone for good, until she turned up here.’
‘She travelled with me from London. Duke William cast her out because she spread her legs for Lord Brihtric. Brihtric did not want her either, once he’d had his way with her, so I agreed to take her in. Shall I send for her? Then maybe we can see for ourselves.’
‘Please do.’ Tostig turned his gaze back to me, speculation in his eyes.
Wulfstan sent a servant to fetch me.
While we waited, Tostig paced. ‘If she does appear, it does not necessarily mean this cat is innocent,’ he said. ‘It could be her familiar, her very own spirit animal, and she might be projecting herself into it, to spy on us.’
Wulfstan said nothing for a while, he simply sat there, watching Tostig, and once again he had a calculating look in his eye. ‘What if she is a witch, like you say?’ he said after a long pause. ‘Can we not make use of her?’
Tostig frowned. ‘How?’
‘I have no idea, but her life for her allegiance may be worth bargaining for. Imagine what we could do, with one such as her on our side?’
‘No, I do not like it. What if she was to put a curse on us?’ Tostig shook his head. ‘We should just kill her and get it over with.’
‘By all means, put the damned thing out of its misery now,’ Wulfstan said.
‘I am sorry, my lord, but Lady Caitlyn is nowhere to be found. She was last seen with Lady Sigrid, but when Lord Tostig arrived, she disappeared.’
Tostig gave a triumphant smile. ‘There! I told you! Bring me my sword.’
‘What? Are you going to run it through?’ Wulfstan laughed. ‘I suggest, we drown it.’
‘Drown what, my lord?’ his wife asked, gliding into the hall and catching the tail end of the conversation.
‘This cat. Tostig says it is a witch. He claims it is Lady Caitlyn,’ Wulfstan said.
Sigrid raised her eyebrows at her husband, then turned to Tostig, who was nodding. She came over to my cage and peered in. I stared up at her, with flattened ears and huge eyes, trying to look pathetic.
She
pursed her lips. ‘I do not care what you do with it, just remove it from my table. The servants need to prepare for supper. As for Lady Caitlyn, when you see her, please send her to me.’
All three of us watched Sigrid stalk out of the hall.
‘You heard my wife, get that thing out of here,’ Wulfstan said. ‘If you want to kill it, then kill it, but I suggest you wait a while. I am willing to bet my new hunting dog that the wench will turn up for her supper.’
Tostig said, ‘I suppose it would not do any harm to wait. Here, boy, take this and put it in my chamber. Wait.’ He gathered up the chain which someone had brought and fastened it about the cage. ‘If this creature is as clever as I think she is, a simple wooden peg will not contain her. Let her try to get out of this!’
The chain was solid and wrapped around the cage twice, sealing the door shut. I had no hope of loosening it. And when he threw the old tapestry over the box, I felt as though night had well and truly descended.
My prison lurched and swung as I was carried away, and by the time it was finally placed on a solid surface, I was feeling distinctly nauseous.
Unable to see past the fabric covering, I waited until I was satisfied all sounds beyond my cage had ceased, before I began testing the bars. I had a little room to pace, not much, but some. Designed to hold several chickens, the box was about three foot square and roughly a foot high. I could stand, just, but there was very little room to manoeuvre.
I paced as best I could, testing each length of wood, each join. There were no apparent weaknesses. Not knowing how much time I had before Tostig came for me, desperation made me panic, and for a few moments I scrabbled at a corner, claws raking the wood, then when that failed to make any impression, I threw myself at the wooden bars, again and again.
Finally, exhausted, I flopped down, panting.
Think, Cat, think. You cannot force your way out and you cannot unlock the chain.
I thought, and as I did so, my eyes roved over each wooden slat, eventually coming to rest on one.
There!
Near the top, in the corner by the door, the wood was pitted. At beak height, I guessed, the end of one length looked as though it had been pecked over and over, until the wood was thinner.
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