Chapter Nine
William had seen them from his vantage point.
It had been a usual patrol out toward the Clwydian hills to the west, a place of foothills and vales and forests where the Welsh liked to gather.
It was a wild and verdant land, reeking of mystery and magic.
There were a couple of important warlords in the area, and Tristan liked to keep an eye on them.
In fact, Lord Rhewl and Lord Gryffyn were men that Tristan wanted to send word to, to meet with them to see if they couldn’t come to some kind of peaceful existence between them.
The warlords were brothers by marriage, as far as Tristan had heard, and they had been part of the group that sacked the castle when de Gresford was in residence.
But Tristan had also heard that the two had tried to reason with the supporters of Llywelyn and convince them to negotiate with the English, but the battle was over before that could happen.
It gave Tristan hope that the pair might be reasonable.
Even so, the patrols kept watch on them.
That was prudent. And William was glad they did, because on his routine patrol earlier in the day, he’d seen hundreds of men flocking to Lord Gryffyn’s fortified home, called Garth Hall, near the River Dee.
Dermot had been with him, and together, they’d hidden in the trees and watched the influx of Welsh.
That sent them rushing back to Wrexham to relay the news to Tristan, who hadn’t been pleased to hear of the latest development. Even now, he stood near the windows overlooking the bailey, pondering what William had reported.
He didn’t like the sound of any of it.
“Did the men look as if they were armed in any way?” he asked. “Did it look like a war council?”
William shook his head. “We were not afforded the best view of Gryffyn’s home or the arrivals,” he said.
“But the men we did see did not look as if they were armed. It could have been a family gathering or a wedding for all we knew, but there was an absence of women that led me to believe it wasn’t either of those things. ”
Tristan turned away from the windows, looking at William and Dermot. “There was nothing obvious to suggest an attack is imminent?”
“Nay,” William said. “But prudence would dictate that we send more men out to watch the house.”
“True,” Tristan said. He looked to Dermot. “Tell Carr and Addax what you have seen. We will discuss this tonight at sup. Go now, and send Addax to me once you have told him.”
Dermot nodded smartly, heading out of the solar and leaving William still standing there awaiting further orders. They weren’t long in coming.
“We will be alert from now on,” he said quietly.
“That means the gatehouse is not to remain open. Gates will be closed and secured, day or night. We can have a contingent of guards outside the gate to admit people who have business here, but anyone who wants to pass through those gates must be interrogated before they are made welcome.”
William nodded. “Agreed,” he said. “If I may make a suggestion, I feel that we should double the patrols. If Gryffyn is hosting a gathering and it is meant as a precursor to an attack, others might be, too, unless Gryffyn plans to attack us alone.”
Tristan shook his head. “I cannot imagine that he would,” he said. “Did you check his brother’s home?”
William nodded. “There was no activity that we could see, but that could change.”
“Then organize double patrols,” Tristan told them. “Have them report directly to you.”
“Aye, my lord.”
Tristan opened his mouth to say something else, but they could hear voices on the other side of the door.
There seemed to be some commotion going on.
Curious, Tristan went to the door and opened it, only to find Andromeda out in the entry with several new servants who had been hired from the nearby English town of Nantwich when she took over as chatelaine.
There were buckets and mops and brooms, everything necessary to clean an entryway that was full of grime and cobwebs.
Andromeda didn’t see him, however. She was bent over one of the new servants, describing to the woman how she wanted the floorboards scrubbed. William came up behind him.
“There she is again,” he said, a smirk on his lips. “Do you know she had her army of militant scrubwomen clean the knights’ quarters two days ago?”
Tristan grinned. “I’d heard that.”
William’s mouth twisted into an expression of displeasure.
“God help those of us who were in the building when she arrived,” he said.
“She demanded all of our clothing to wash it so we would not bring grime back into her clean rooms. She scrubbed that place from top to bottom with salt and vinegar that I am still smelling. She even scrubbed the ceiling!”
He was genuinely incensed, and Tristan couldn’t help but chuckle. “She is doing what I asked her to do,” he said. “She has only been here a week.”
“It feels like a year.”
Tristan turned away from the door and headed back into the solar. “You had better get used to her,” he said. “That’s what I told her father.”
William glanced at him. “Is he still angry that you permitted her to remain?”
Tristan shrugged. “Possibly,” he said. “But that is his own issue, not mine. If he doesn’t like it, he can return to Pembroke Castle.
That woman in the entry has been of more value to me in seven days than Carr has been in an entire year, so if I have to make a choice, I will choose her every time. ”
William wandered toward him, his manner pensive. “I should probably tell you that Carr has not been quiet about his displeasure,” he said. “He only voices it to me or Dermot or Addax, but I know the men have heard.”
Tristan sighed heavily, thinking on a man who would treat his own daughter like an enemy. “Have you ever seen a man disregard his own child so?”
“Never.”
“I do not know what to do about it,” Tristan said. “Short of threatening him, I suppose he has every right to speak about his daughter any way he wishes. I cannot tell him what to say.”
William pondered that, looking toward the solar door when he saw Andromeda pass in front of it as she worked.
“If the men think her own father has no respect for her, then they are going to ask themselves why they should,” he said quietly. “You had better speak to him, Pat. He is going to cause his daughter trouble if he does not shut his mouth.”
That was something Addax had expressed also, leading Tristan to believe they were right. Andromeda may be Carr’s daughter, but Carr simply wasn’t treating her well. Even a week after her arrival, he wasn’t apt to protect her or praise her or even speak to her.
And that brought up a new set of concerns.
“I’ve been thinking,” Tristan said, watching Andromeda through the open door. “Were you aware that it was King John and William Marshal who sent her to live with the de Courcy family?”
William shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “I’d not heard that.”
“It’s true,” Tristan said. “According to Carr and to the lady, John wanted to marry her to an English lord of royal blood. Linking Ireland to England, as it were, but those plans evidently died with John.”
William looked at him curiously. “What have you been thinking about, then?”
Tristan shook his head faintly. “I’m not sure,” he said.
“I’m thinking I should send word to the Marshal to tell him that she’s here if, in fact, he was involved in sending her to live with de Courcy.
He might have even been involved in the marriage plot.
But, then again, he may not even care any longer. ”
William shrugged. “Possibly,” he said. “But if she told you he was involved, then mayhap you should notify him.”
Tristan wasn’t sure he wanted to, but it was something he’d been thinking about over the past few days.
He wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t want to tell the Marshal, only that he wasn’t sure he wanted Andromeda out of his sight.
It was possible that the Marshal would leave her at Wrexham until he could decide what to do with her, but equally possible he would send her away somewhere.
Marry her off to someone of his choosing.
That was the part that Tristan didn’t seem to like.
“There’s something else,” he said after a moment, diverting the subject. “That Irish faction that tried to abduct her from Rockbrook. She told you about that when you met her in Ruabon for the first time, did she not?”
William nodded. “She did.”
“I have been thinking that if I were determined to wipe out the line of my enemy, I would not give up so easily.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I would not let her disappearance from Rockbrook Castle stop me,” Tristan said, looking at William.
“I would not give up. I would think that if she has fled Rockbrook, then the logical thing to assume would be that she would go to her father to seek protection because there is nowhere else in Ireland she could go that would be safe. England would be the most logical choice.”
William was beginning to understand. “You think they have come to England?”
Tristan shrugged. “If it were me, I would not stop,” he said. “I would follow the trail to its logical end—Carr mac Murda.”
William cocked his head in thought. “But they’ve had an entire year to look for her,” he said. “If they knew she was going to Carr and they knew he served Pembroke, that should have them going to Pembroke Castle.”
“True,” Tristan said. “They would go there and ask for him, and then they would be told that he no longer serves there. Being clever, I would assume, the Irish would probably tell a story of how they needed to get word to him or find him. Any number of stories. Depending on whom they spoke to at Pembroke, they would either be told where he is or they would be sent away without the information.”
William was following that line of thinking. “What would you do if a group of Irish came looking for Carr and said they needed to find their brethren?”
“I would ask why.”