Chapter Six
Sherborne Castle
Dorset
Diamantha’s first glimpse of Sherborne Castle was through sheets of driving rain.
Coming over the hill on the road leading in from the south, she could see the mighty castle of the Bishop of Salisbury in the distance like a great gray sentinel planted in the middle of the green Dorset countryside.
It was shaped rather like a crown, she thought, with soaring walls and towers, and an enormous gatehouse at the front.
But the rain pounded and the thunder rolled, distracting her from the impressive sight as she was eager to be under a dry roof.
Everyone else in the party was eager, too.
After leaving Corfe Castle, which was only a day’s ride under good circumstances, Sophie grew weary of riding General about an hour into the journey and Merlin had brought her to her mother.
Snuggled under her mother’s warm cloak, Sophie had slept most of the trip away and when she did awaken, it was to pop her head out from underneath the cloak and point at the scenery.
The little girl saw rabbits and deer, and it thrilled her tremendously.
She even tried to talk Merlin into going off and catching a baby bunny, but Merlin was very regretful that he could not break rank to do so.
Sophie wasn’t entirely disappointed and found other things to corner her interest. Mostly, she found Merlin to corner her interest and it was a running conversation between a very talkative little girl and a rather quiet sergeant.
It had been rather sweet to watch, leaving smiles on the faces of those within earshot.
In truth, it had been a pleasant trip once the fog lifted and the sun came out.
The rolling hills of Dorset were green and lush, and the smell of foliage was heavy in the air.
Diamantha and Sophie were midway in the group, well protected by de Bretagne’s men, while Cortez rode up at the front of the column with two of his knights.
He hadn’t said anything to Diamantha since leaving Corfe, and the journey in general was rather quiet except for Sophie and her chatter with Merlin.
Diamantha could see him, however, up at the front on his big black and white charger with the hairy legs.
He was hard to miss, being as big as he was, and he rode without his helm.
She could see his black head clearly. With him in her line of sight a good deal of the time, she had spent the entire trip north pondering their acquaintance since the moment he had appeared in George’s solar and told her of her destiny.
It had been rough, no doubt, and she couldn’t help but compare it to her courtship with Robert, which had been very sweet and pleasant.
Robert had been a very amiable man and Cortez was not.
He was arrogant and aggressive, and she didn’t like it one bit.
She wondered what hell she was in for with this marriage.
If she had any courage, she’d take her daughter and run off to the nearest convent right now and be done with it.
As she contemplated life in a nunnery versus life as the wife of Cortez de Bretagne, the sky had clouded over and very quickly a storm set upon them.
The road, well-traveled and rather rocky, had soon become a muddy swamp of dark brown soup.
Diamantha’s palfrey was a durable creature and plodded through it without much fuss, but the men on foot were having an increasingly difficult time.
More than once they’d had to push the provisions wagon out of the heavy ruts.
By the time they reached the crest of the hill overlooking Sherborne, everyone in the party, with the exception of Sophie, was a fairly soggy mess.
Once de Bretagne’s castle was in sight, they made haste for it.
Sherborne Castle, much like Corfe Castle, covered a lot of ground, and the ground Sherborne sat atop of was flat.
As they drew closer, Diamantha could see the towering gatehouse, three stories tall, and enormous curtain walls with a massive ditch below them.
As big as Corfe Castle was, and it was enormously big, Sherborne could compete with it on that scale.
The soaring walls had to be twenty feet high and the depth of the very large moat was unfathomable.
It was filled with muck and rot, and as the party passed over the drawbridge and into the great yawning gatehouse, Diamantha tried not to look at the moat. She was positive it would make her ill.
Once inside the gatehouse, the passageway was surprisingly narrow until it spilled them out into a massive bailey beyond.
In the center of the bailey was a complex of buildings, not unlike the complex of buildings at Corfe, only these seemed tightly clustered together by comparison.
A four-storied, gray-stoned keep was part of the complex.
As the rain poured and the thunder rolled, men ran out to greet the incoming party, taking the horses away and moving the provisions wagon off to the south where the stables were stationed.
As Diamantha sat on top of her palfrey, looking rather lost as efficient chaos went on around her, a very tall and very blond young knight was suddenly at her side.
“Lady de Bretagne?” he greeted though the pouring rain. “My name is James. I am to take you out of this weather.”
Diamantha was wet and exhausted. As Merlin rushed up to help, she opened her cloak and allowed her daughter to slide down into Merlin’s waiting arms. The young knight reached up and politely lifted her from the palfrey, swiftly escorting her towards what seemed to be the keep of Sherborne.
It was four stories, rather big and block-like, and there was a massive oak and iron door that opened up to the bailey.
It was now open, waiting for them to enter.
As James escorted her through the door, she noticed that the walls were very thick because the door itself had a small portcullis, partially raised.
The door opened up into a corridor of sorts.
There was a darkened passageway to the right and stairs leading up to the left.
He took her up the steps with Merlin and Sophie following.
The keep was cold and dark, and Diamantha kept turning around to glance at her daughter as Merlin carried her up the stairs.
Sophie’s eyes were wide at the new, scary place and this time, it was Merlin keeping up the patter of small talk.
In truth, he was very gentle with Sophie, which pleased Diamantha greatly.
The stairs opened up into a first floor chamber, a rather large room with a massive fireplace that servants were tending.
Smoke billowed out into the room, rising to the ceiling, which had a round, wheel-like chandelier that was lit with several fat tallow tapers.
A rope connected the chandelier to a nearby wall for easy lowering and lifting in order to light the tapers.
There was a table in the middle of the chamber, near the hearth, and as Diamantha approached, she could see that there was food upon it.
There were many servants rushing about. As James moved to help her remove her cloak, a round female servant with a tight kerchief around her head hustled up and collected it.
“I’ll go shake this out, m’lady,” the woman told her. “Sit by the fire and dry out. The poppet, too.”
Diamantha turned to acknowledge the woman, seeing that she was helping Sophie remove her little woolen cloak.
Sophie was still in Merlin’s arms and seemed disinclined to let go of the man at the moment.
The expression on her face told Diamantha that her daughter was sufficiently intimidated by their new surroundings.
She held her arms out to the little girl.
“Thank you, sergeant,” she said softly. “I will take her now.”
Merlin handed the little girl over, who immediately clung to her mother as Diamantha moved over by the fire.
More servants rushed up to put a stool next to the fire for her to sit on, which she accepted gratefully.
Sophie wasn’t wet, but Diamantha was; she held out a wet, freezing hand to the warmth of the blaze, relishing the heat it delivered.
As she dried out her wet flesh, she noticed that James and Merlin were still standing over by the table, more than likely on Cortez’s order not to leave her.
They were watching her with both curiosity and uncertainty.
Diamantha looked around the chamber which seemed to run from one side of the keep to the other.
“Is this your feasting hall?” she asked, simply to break the ice.
James shook his head. “Nay, Lady de Bretagne,” he replied in his deep, smooth voice. “This is a secondary hall. It is mostly where we eat. The great hall is only used when the bishop is in residence or when Cortez is conducting court.”
Diamantha had flinched at the sound of her new title, fighting down the sorrow it provoked.
She knew she had to get used to it and even though she understood very well that she had married the man, still, a greater part of her didn’t want to hear the confirmation.
She wasn’t ready to, not yet. But rather than dwell on it at the moment, as it could not be helped, something the knight said caught her attention. She turned to look at him.
“Court?” she repeated. “What does he do?”