dozen new sons as soon as possible. In case.’
Eleyne frowned: her vision of Alexander on his horse had never returned. It was as if by telling him about it she had pre-empted fate. Certainly it was well known now that he would never ride a grey.
She stood up and dropped a dutiful kiss on her father-in-law’s head. ‘I must leave you now. You are tired.’
He scowled. ‘Yes, Goddamnit, I’m tired.’
Two weeks later William of Mar was dead.
VI
The new Earl of Mar and Thane of Cabrach travelled to Wales with his wife in November. Their intention was to spend Christmas with Prince Llywelyn at Aber and meet at long last with Joanna.
On the way they stopped at King Edward’s great new castle of Rhuddlan, with its canal diversion of the River Clwyd. Solemnly they allowed themselves to be given a tour of the new building by King Edward’s castle builder, Master James of St George, admiring not only the provision for stables and granaries and workshops in the outer ward but also the king’s and queen’s halls with their painted timber walls and, already, the start of the queen’s garden and her little fish pond.
In their lavishly appointed guest chamber Donald turned to one of his coffers and brought out his writing materials. Within minutes he was deeply engrossed in a sketch of the lay-out of the castle.
Eleyne stood behind him, watching. ‘Are you going to show it to Llywelyn?’
He glanced up. ‘I doubt if there’s any secret about the strength of this place, my love. And it bodes ill for Llywelyn. No, I’m taking these drawings back with me to show to my stonemasons. We could gain some useful ideas for strengthening Kildrummy, with the king’s approval.’ He reached up and pulled her down to kiss her. ‘Are the children settled?’
She nodded. ‘They’re all tired and excited.’
He gave her a fond, sideways glance. ‘So are you?’
‘Not as tired as all that, Donald!’ She raised an eyebrow sharply. ‘As you will see, later!’ She left him to his sketching and wandered across to the window which overlooked the broad waters of the diverted River Clwyd. The east wind was beginning to scream through the half-built sections of the inner towers and darkness was setting in.
They had spent the previous night at Chester, a strange echo from earlier times. Tomorrow they would spend the night at the guesthouse of Conwy Abbey, so she could pray at the tombs of her father and her two brothers. Then at last they would be at Aber.
The low cloud racing in on the wind had cut out all views from the castle now. The inner ward was dank and murky as it grew dark. A boy had come in to light the candles and throw logs on the fire. All ought to be well, but she could not throw off a feeling of unease.
At Aber Llywelyn and Eleanor greeted them with enthusiasm and made them all at home. But at once Llywelyn had disappointing news. ‘Lady de Bohun has written to say she is not well enough to travel, Aunt Eleyne. I’m so sorry.’ He handed her Joanna’s letter.
Eleyne gazed unseeing at the parchment in her hands. ‘I knew she wouldn’t come.’ Her voice was flat.
Eleanor frowned at her husband; he needn’t have told her so soon. He could have allowed her the pleasure of coming home first. She smiled at Eleyne. ‘It just means you must come again, next summer perhaps. When the weather is better and she has had a chance to recover.’
‘And when we will have a new member of the family to show you.’ Llywelyn put his arm around his wife’s waist fondly. ‘June or thereabouts would be about right, I’d say.’
Eleyne put Joanna’s letter away. ‘So, you are to have a daughter, I’m so pleased.’ She spoke without thinking as she kissed Eleanor’s cheek.
‘A son, Aunt Eleyne,’ Llywelyn said sharply, ‘we are expecting a son.’
She looked at him. His handsome face had aged since she had last seen him, and the shadows of exhaustion surrounded his eyes. She shivered slightly as a cold draught whistled through the great hall, gone as soon as it had come.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘A son.’
VII
Einion was not there. Almost defiantly she stood by the river in memory of Rhonwen and threw a late frost- hardened rosebud into the whirling waters as an offering to the past. Her children watched in silence. Gratney was tall and handsome, very like his father, as were the twins; at fourteen, he was a squire now, in the household of his cousin, her nephew and friend of so many years, Robert Bruce of Annandale. The twins were pages with the Earl of Buchan at Slains. All three had been summoned home for the pilgrimage to their mother’s birthplace, and were enjoying for the first time the fact of her royal birth.
She showed them Yr Wyddfa; she showed them the strait and Llanfaes and the views of the great cloud- covered mass of Eryri, the high
‘These woods are strange,’ he said with a shiver.
‘In what way?’ Squinting at him against the frosty sunlight, she studied his face. Handsome, square-jawed, his nose liberally sprinkled with freckles, his sandy hair as usual awry beneath his cap, he was gazing into the distance, his grey eyes unfocused.
‘There are ghosts, spirits.’ He shrugged, dismissing the thought, and began to fondle the horse’s muzzle. ‘Duncan doesn’t notice, so I don’t talk about it much.’ His voice was carefully casual.
‘You mean you’ve seen them before?’ Eleyne asked softly. She had a vivid memory of her own cautious questioning of Isabella de Braose when they were children, her withdrawal when Isabella’s scorn told her other people didn’t see the things she did.
Sandy nodded.
‘At Kildrummy too?’
He nodded again. ‘And at Slains. And on the mountains.’ He hesitated. ‘You see them, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she said quietly, ‘I see them.’
‘There’s one in particular,’ he went on in a rush, the words tumbling over each other in his eagerness to speak to her on her own at last, now that he had dared to broach the subject. ‘I sometimes think he follows me about.’
Eleyne forced herself to smile. She felt suddenly sick with fear. ‘Perhaps it is your guardian angel,’ she whispered. She put her hands on the boy’s shoulders. ‘What does he look like? Have you ever really seen him?’
Sandy met her gaze steadily. A slight blush had coloured his cheeks and was spreading to the back of his neck. ‘He’s shadowy, tall, with dark, watching eyes. I’ve never seen him clearly.’ He broke away from her, his embarrassment overcoming his longing to confide. ‘It’s silly. He’s not really there… I just feel him.’
Eleyne could hardly breathe. ‘And he watches over you?’
Sandy nodded.
Alexander.
‘Well.’ Eleyne took a deep breath. ‘Whoever it is, he must love you very much.’ She kissed him on the forehead.
