The Englishman walked Dyfi past the carnage and then turned onto a narrow track that curved east, just before the road reached Dolforwyn.
“Where are you taking us?” Anna said.
Her captor glanced back, that smirk permanently affixed to his face. “Montgomery.”
Anna nodded. It made sense. Montgomery Castle was only four miles away, a secondary castle for the Mortimers, whose seat was at Wigmore. Far better to transport her a short distance to a minor castle where they could hide her, rather than a greater distance to a more central castle and risk being seen. At the same time, it meant that if she could escape, she had less far to go to freedom, and to her own people who would aid her.
That was something that she knew. She had come to Wales with David almost six years ago as a teenager—ignorant of all but rudimentary Welsh and a few snippets of Welsh history. That she knew even that was thanks to her mother, Meg, who had tried to teach her. David had known more initially (of course he had) and done better than she, what with sword fighting and male camaraderie—and the fact that he was Prince Llywelyn’s long lost son.
Six years on, however, Anna sensed it was she, not David, who felt most comfortable here. She had a husband, a child, and a community that had embraced her. Unlike David, who would be king, Anna didn’t press on people. She’d learned healing from Aaron, and from the herbalist in the village of Llangollen, and carved out a place for herself. David was burdened by his station and his responsibilities. Even though he welcomed them, he chafed against them too. No wonder he’d agreed to meet Bohun at the Abbey in the middle of the night. It was just about as much recklessness as he could allow himself these days.
An hour later, they came under Montgomery’s walls. It sat on its rocky outcrop, impressive and huge, glaring down at them. Anna hated that she had to enter placidly through the gates, but with Cadell to protect, she didn’t know what else she could do. Her thoughts flew to Math, riding south with David. If only she had some way to get word to him, he would move heaven and earth to rescue her. But he wasn’t here and he and David had a country to save. She would have to manage this adventure on her own.
After dismounting in the outer ward, her guards escorted her, with Cadell on her hip, across the drawbridge that protected the inner ward and into a lesser keep with a high tower that buttressed the curtain wall and rose two stories above it. From down in the bailey, she could see the mountains of Wales beyond the walls to the west. She felt them tugging at her. Somehow, she had to get out of here.
The guards hustled her through the tower, up three levels, to the guardroom on the top floor. A ladder came down from a trap door in the ceiling, which Anna assumed led to the battlements. Ahead was a barred door and it was there that the soldier led Anna and Cadell. He unlocked it and with his hand to the small of Anna’s back, urged her forward. Anna stepped through the doorway and halted a pace inside the room. Three people—a man, a woman, and a boy, perhaps two years older than Cadell—occupied it.
Upon Anna’s entrance, the man stood. He was unassuming-looking, in his late thirties and of less than average height, with black hair and no beard. He wore a white shirt, a tunic of fine wool, dyed blue, and brown breeches. Unsurprisingly, he wore neither armor nor sword. Anna gave him a sickly smile.
“Who’s this?” The man looked past Anna to the guards who hovered in the doorway behind her.
“Lord Edmund Mortimer, I’ve brought you some company,” the guard said. “Princess Anna, welcome to Montgomery Castle.”
Chapter 8
26 August 1288
Montgomery Castle
Anna
Anna took in the scene while her fellow prisoners stared back at her.
“We’ve quite a merry party now.” Edmund Mortimer rested one elbow on the mantle of the fireplace.
Just the name Mortimer had Anna’s stomach turning icy cold. Although he couldn’t know it, many kings of England numbered among his descendents. Anna supposed that with the death of the child King Edward, none of that would happen now. England would have a new line of kings. She ground her teeth at the thought that the line might start with Gilbert de Clare.
“I am Anna ferch Llywelyn. This is my son, Cadell.”
Edmund’s eyes lit. “We have royal company, my dear Maud. What an honor.”
Anna had had a long day and didn’t feel like taking his sarcasm. “You find yourself in a position to mock, do you?”
They locked gazes, and then Edmund laughed, genuinely, the sound ringing around the room. “Heaven forbid that I would do any such thing. I am a prisoner in my own tower. Who am I to accuse another of failing to take the proper precautions?”
“So you really are Edmund Mortimer,” Anna said.
“I am.” Edmund turned to the woman. “And this is Maud de Bohun, wife to Humphrey, and their son, Hugh.”
Maud, a tiny woman ten years older than Anna, with blonde hair swept up the back of her head and fixed with a thousand pins, stood. She held out a hand to Anna. Anna took it, pleased that she’d set the tone from the first and that it looked like they might treat her as an equal.
Anna was Welsh. That alone was enough to earn Marcher scorn. In addition, her Papa had fought the Bohuns and the Mortimers for years (and been allied with them too, but not recently). Neither Marcher family should have warm feelings towards Anna. But then again, if Maud knew who protected her son, William, she had every reason to be polite. Edmund, on the other hand, had tried to kill Papa six years ago. Anna didn’t think anyone would blame her for not giving Edmund the benefit of the doubt, even if he had been friends with Humphrey de Bohun since childhood and he and David were cousins of a sort.
Cadell and Hugh eyed each other warily. Then, Hugh jerked his head towards the far wall, indicating that they might play together behind the only bed in the room. Anna had a snarky thought about whether it had been Maud or Edmund who’d slept in the bed the previous night, and then dismissed it. Edmund would have given it to Maud and Hugh.
Anna put Cadell down and he trotted over to Hugh. They crouched side by side to see what toy Hugh had managed to retain, even in his captivity. A moment later, explosive sounds and death rattles emanated from their corner. Despite herself, Anna smiled. Apparently, boy noises were universal.
She turned to Edmund. “I had an escort of ten, and we were within our own borders. We thought we were safe.”
“That border is no more,” Edmund said. “If your father and brother don’t know it by now, they should.”
“We know of the alliance among some of the barons, particularly those who had lands in Wales.” Anna didn’t tell him that she knew of it through Humphrey de Bohun. She tried to catch Maud’s eye—to see if she was aware of her husband’s scheming—but Maud was looking down at her hands which she’d folded in her lap.
Edmund gazed at Anna impassively, giving nothing away.
“We also had word that you might be involved,” Anna said.
Edmund barked a laugh. “Obviously not.”
“We believed it—my brother still believes it,” Anna said. “And then there’s Clare.”
“Gilbert de Clare intends to marry Joan and take the throne,” Maud said. “King Edward was a strong ruler and demanded obedience more than strength in those who followed him. Anyone who sought to gather power to himself was sat down.”
“Like your husband,” Anna said.
Maud canted her head. “As you say.”
“With King Edward’s death, the disgraced, discarded, and ambitious have been let loose,” Edmund said. “I misjudged the speed at which they would act, and the force of their distrust of me.”
“Did you know that the men who captured me were wearing your colors?” Anna said.
Edmund’ eyes narrowed as he studied her. “My colors? You must be mistaken.”
“Believe me, I’m not,” Anna said. “I asked the men who captured me specifically for whom they worked. They claimed it was Clare, but they wore your colors as part of an elaborate
deception.”
“And with me locked in here …” Edmund scrubbed at his hair with both hands. He turned on a heel and began to pace in front of the fire, staring down at his feet as he thought. “That Clare would dare such a thing—”
“If events go not to his liking, Clare wishes for the blame to fall on you, my lord,” Maud said. “Deception comes naturally to him.” Clare had switched sides during the Baron’s war, just before the battle that had left Humphrey de Bohun’s father dead. His defection to the crown had been a crucial turning point in the war.
“And I made it so easy for him.” Edmund snorted his disgust and swung around to put his boot into a pile of kindling beside the fire. Then he set his forearm on the mantle and leaned into it, resting his forehead on his arm.
“How long have you been held captive?” Anna said.
“Since yesterday,” said Maud.
“When did you last speak to your husband?”
“A week ago,” Maud said. “He left for Chester with William, something about … finding allies. Hugh and I were travelling from our lands in Shropshire to Pleshey when men attacked our company and took us captive.”
“Did they tell you why?” Anna said. “According to the man who abducted us, Clare would use us to ransom Normans whom my people capture.”
“That wouldn’t be why they captured me,” Maud said. “These men are English! It must be as surety for my husband’s good behavior, or because Clare intends to eliminate all of us but would prefer we languished in prison until he has secured the throne.”
Was now the time to speak? Anna and Maud had been dancing around each other for the last ten minutes, never getting to the center of the matter between them. Anna turned back to Edmund. “Englishmen wearing your colors, Lord Mortimer, also attacked the cathedral church at Valle Crucis three nights ago.”
Maud’s hand went to her throat and her face paled. “Princess Anna.” She stepped closer. “You must tell me. Please—”
Anna put a hand on Maud’s arm. She glanced at Edmund, and then looked into Maud’s eyes. “Your son is fine. Your husband too, last I saw him.”
Maud blinked back the tears that had threatened to spill out. “You saw them both?”
“Saw them and spoke to them,” Anna said.
Maud heaved a great sigh, her hand to her heart. “Thank you.”
Maud hadn’t matched Anna’s soft tone and Edmund looked over. “Thank you for what? Whom did she see?”
Anna looked from one to the other, trying to gauge if there was a reason to continue being secretive, and decided that she had nothing to lose at this point. They were captives together. She wasn’t going to get out of here without their help.
“Humphrey de Bohun and his son came to Valle Crucis Abbey, seeking an alliance with my brother and father. Humphrey told us of a plot to invade the south and retake the lands you Normans lost to us three years ago. William remained with David, and Lord Bohun returned to England.”
“That’s it?” Edmund’s jaw was tight. “That’s all he told you?”
Anna’s eyes turned wary. “What do you mean?”
“Clare has more in store for Wales than an attack on the south. Surely with your presence here, you can see that? Did your brother look to the defenses on Anglesey?”
Anna brow furrowed. “He sent word to Aber of Bohun’s warning—”
“It’s August. The harvest is soon,” Edmund said. “Anglesey is a prize.”
“Clare would know that,” Maud said. “What if Anglesey were to fall to him as it has fallen in the past?”
Maud was referring to the war of 1282, where King Edward had sent a fleet to Anglesey, the bread basket of north Wales, and captured the harvest.
“Clare would not have forgotten the last war,” Maud continued. “You must stop him.” She said this as if the Bohuns hadn’t fought against Wales in that same last war. Then again, the Bohuns had always thought of themselves as a breed apart, not to mention having been in rebellion against the English crown almost as many times as the Welsh kings and princes.
“Clare would have to force the Straits if he is to do real damage to King Llywelyn’s holdings,” Edmund said, “but losing the harvest will cause misery this winter and weaken your father’s ability to resist Clare’s advance.”
“Wait! Wait!” Anna said, looking from Maud to Edmund and back again. “Do you know for a fact that Anglesey is in danger?”
“I overheard our captors speak of it, not once but several times,” Edmund said. “They’ve seen no reason to hide their plans from me. Clare is sending a force to Anglesey by boat from Chester. It has taken longer than he’d hoped to gather his forces in the north, and the delay has angered him. He wanted to attack both north and south on the same day.”
“You heard Clare himself say this?” Anna said.
“No,” Edmund said. “Clare has not been here. Our guards simply expressed their fear of Clare’s wrath if the endeavor failed to launch on time.”
“When do they hope to sail?” Anna was trying very hard to keep the panic out of her voice. She glanced at Cadell, but he was still distracted by Hugh’s carved horses and soldiers and wasn’t paying attention to their conversation. Cadell trotted a horse along the edge of the bed and up the post.
Edmund’s face softened. “Three days’ time, though with the delay in the boats, perhaps four or five. Still, there’s nothing you can do about it from here.”
“We’ll see about that.” Anna walked to the window and looked out. As she’d feared, it was a drop of at least three stories down, with a steep decline after that as the hill ran away to the west. It rose again almost immediately in grass covered slopes, however, and the forested hills beyond belonged to Wales. “I have time to ride to Aber if I leave tonight.”
Maud’s face paled and she gaped at Anna. “Leave? You say this as if it were the simplest matter in the world!”
Anna swung around to look at Edmund. “You and I both know that we could escape if we put our minds to it, and if we were willing to risk our lives to do it.”
“Are you willing to risk theirs?” Edmund’s eyes flicked to Hugh and Cadell.
“His life will be forfeit if we don’t risk it,” Anna said. Maud choked out a denial, but Anna overrode her, still speaking to Edmund. “Do you deny what will happen if Clare wins? What will happen to Wales under the Norman boot?”
“I cannot deny the truth of your words. I fear for my son, too,” Edmund said, though his voice was so low Anna almost didn’t catch his last few words.
“If I can escape, I will need a horse or my chances of warning my father’s captains in Gwynedd will end before they’ve started,” Anna said. “You have stables inside the bailey, but—”
“Even were we to escape from the tower, it would be impossible for us to reach the stables and ride through the front gate without someone stopping us,” Edmund said.
“We?” Anna said. “I am not asking you to risk your life.”
Edmund made a tsking sound under his breath. “It is already at risk, whether or not Maud and I chose to admit it until now.”
“Edmund,” Maud said. “You can’t be serious. And without horses—”
“It isn’t always possible to house within the curtain wall every horse whose owner visits Montgomery. I have a second stable, a half-mile distant.” Edmund pointed to the west with his chin. “Just over that hill.”
Anna felt a rush of relief surging through her. It was as if someone had poured cold water on her head that proceeded to cascade down her body. “Really? I didn’t dare hope—”
“Do you think me as foolish as that?” Edmund said, and then didn’t wait for an answer. “I haven’t wasted the last six years since I became lord of my father’s lands. I may have served my apprenticeship in the Church instead of on the estate of one of my father’s allies, but that doesn’t mean I know nothing about managing my lands and people.”
Anna hadn’t meant to incite Edmund’s ire and moderated her tone.
“I apologize. You were to be a bishop one day. I imagine the running of a diocese is at least as complicated as your father’s estates.”
“Thank you.” Edmund dipped his head.
“How did you end up a prisoner?” Anna said.
“My brother, Roger, visited me, under the guise of familial accord. He put something in my drink—a potion to make me sleep deeply—and I awoke in here. That’s all I know. Thanks be to God that my wife and our first born are visiting her family in France, or he would have imprisoned them too.”
“But why would he do this?” Anna said. “I understand why your brother might conspire with Clare, but why didn’t he want you to join them?”
“Roger has always coveted my lands and my title,” Edmund said. “While my elder brother lived, Roger was content to be the third son. But when Ralph died, Roger resented that I came into the inheritance, when it was he who had trained as a knight. While I did nothing to deserve his animosity except be born ahead of him, it doesn’t surprise me that he gave me no chance to join his cause.”
Wow. It wasn’t just Welsh royal brothers who warred among themselves. “And would you have? Joined him, I mean?” Anna said.
Edmund turned his gaze to Maud. “I would have been disinclined to support Clare’s bid for the throne, even if your husband had not approached me with his own plans first, my lady.”
Maud bowed her head. “Thank you. You have always been a friend to Humphrey.”
Edmund’s marriage to Maud’s niece had tied the two families closer together—not that marriage always meant a lot. Edmund was grandson to Papa’s sister and look where that had gotten Papa. Family ties were called upon when they were convenient, and discarded when they weren’t.
“So how are we getting out of here?” Anna said.
Edmund snorted laughter. “You are serious, aren’t you? This is a fortress and we have no weapons.”
Crossroads in Time (The After Cilmeri Series) Page 8