The Lion Triumphant (57 page)

“He has gone now and his fellow robbers with him. My mother will be very, very anxious.”

“That is something we cannot allow. Do you feel ready to ride on now?”

“It is what I wish. I must rejoin my mother quickly.”

“We must try to retrace our way. ’Tis not easy. I did not note the way we came.”

“You were riding when you heard the scuffle? Could we go to where you were then?”

“I cannot be completely sure. I heard the shouting and came across country. But we will try. Come, let us start. We must go quietly for it would not do for me to lose you now, you know. How dark it is. Are you ready?”

I said I was. I felt sick with impatience. I imagined my mother’s horror when she saw me being dragged away. I wondered whether she would have recognized Colum Casvellyn. If she had, I did not think that would have given her much comfort.

It was growing darker. There was a dampness in the air. I was shivering but I was not sure whether it was with cold.

We rode on for a few minutes in silence.

Then I said: “Is this the way?”

“I believe it to be.”

“Let us hurry a little.”

“As you wish.”

On we went. The landscape had changed, there were more hedges, more trees. I knew we had galloped over a plain. Where was that?

I cried: “Are you sure it was this way?”

“I cannot be sure,” he answered.

“I think it be wrong.”

He pulled up.

“We are but a mile or so from Castle Paling,” he said.

“Your home?”

“My home,” he confirmed.

“Then how far from your home were you when you came upon us in the lane?”

“A mile or so.”

“Then we could be near the spot.”

“Do you think they would be waiting there? My belief is that they would go to an inn and there send out men to look for you.”

“Yes, I suppose they might do that. Is there a nearby inn?”

“I know of only two hereabouts.”

“Then let us go to them. My mother will be there. You are right when you think that she would go to the nearest inn and get people to look for me.”

“We will go then.”

The inn was called The Red and White Rose. The signpost creaked in the rising wind and a man with a lantern came out as we approached. The sign depicted the faces of the Queen’s great-grandfather, Henry VII of Lancaster, and his wife, Elizabeth of York. It was strange that I should notice them at such a time.

Colum Casvellyn had leaped from his horse and a groom had rushed forward to take the reins. “Where is the host?” he shouted.

The innkeeper came hurrying out at the sound of that imperious voice.

“Has a party arrived?” said Colum Casvellyn. “A lady with a maidservant and two grooms.”

“But no, my lord.”

“You are sure?”

“I am, my lord. We have had but one visitor. A merchant on his way to Plymouth.”

I felt wretched. I was trying to think clearly. Should I stay here for the night, I wondered. There was nothing much I could do. In the morning I could search for my mother. At least she would be safe, for she had the two grooms and Jennet with her. It was not so much her personal safety that worried me, for the robbers had fled, it was the anxiety she would be suffering at the thought of what might be happening to me.

“There is another place we could try,” said Colum Casvellyn.

“Let us then,” I said, for I dreaded waiting alone in this inn through the night.

“Host,” called Colum imperiously. “If a party such as I have described should come here, pray tell the lady that her daughter is safe and well.”

“I will, my lord.”

“Now,” he said turning to me. “Let us visit the other inn and see if they are there.”

We rode away. He did not speak and nor did I. I felt frantic with anxiety.

We went for a mile or more; then I said: “But how far is this inn?”

“I am not sure but I believe it to be close by. Ah, wait a moment. I am sure this is the road.”

The clouds of the day had completely disappeared now and the moon had emerged; it was not quite full but just on the wane. I was glad of the light it offered.

“This way,” he said. We went up a drive and then I heard his exclamation. “Good God,” he said. We were looking at a ruin … eerie in moonlight. A sudden horror took possession of me. It was as though I were living in a nightmare. What had happened to me? Here I was in such a place with a man whom I had hated on sight and who had filled me with a sense of fear when I had first seen him. For a moment I told myself this could not be happening in reality. I
was
dreaming. We had gone to The Traveller’s Rest and in the oak-panelled room I was dreaming of the man I had met when I was last there.

How ghostly was that scene! The walls only were standing for it was nothing but a shell. It seemed menacing, haunted by evil spirits as the moonlight cast ghostly shadows on the smoke-blackened walls.

I looked at the man beside me and I felt a sudden fear possess me. A faint moaning in the trees sounded like souls in distress. I seemed to hear a warning in the air. “Get away from here. Find your mother. Go back where you will be safe.”

An owl screeched suddenly and I jumped in terror. I imagined the grim bird swooping suddenly on some unsuspecting prey.

Colum Casvellyn was smiling ruefully.

“Who would have thought it! It must have happened recently. It was a flourishing inn when I last passed this way.”

“Is there anywhere else where my mother might be?”

“I know of none other.”

I said: “I should go back to The Inn of the Roses. I could stay there for the rest of the night.”

“A lady alone?”

“I see no help for it. What else could I do?”

“You could come to Castle Paling.”

“Your home!”

“It is not so far from here. I would send some of my servants out to scour the roads.”

“If I went to the inn, you could still do that.”

“There would be delay. I would have to take you to the inn and return home. Then I would have to give my servants their orders. If we went there now I could have them out on the road in less than an hour.”

I hesitated. “I think I would rather go to the inn.”

He shrugged his shoulders, and we turned our horses. I could not help taking a look backwards at that derelict inn. I wondered how it had happened. I could picture the wood structure blazing for a few minutes. I wondered if anyone had been trapped. I could almost fancy I heard the screaming of people in terror. It was said that when people died violently they came back. That was what haunting meant.

The strong feeling was with me that I should get away from the man who rode beside me. So strong was it that the thought entered my mind that I should attempt to escape. Let him go on ahead a little, then turn and gallop the other way. But where to and would he not soon overtake me? No, he had helped me so far; he had saved me from the robbers and what had their purpose been—robbery and rape? Who could say? I should be grateful to him and yet I did not trust him, and when I was at the burned-out inn I had sensed that something was urgently warning me.

I would go back to the inn and there I should wait throughout the night; and if his servants succeeded in finding my mother, then I must be forever grateful to him and heartily forgive him his churlish behaviour on our first meeting.

We went along at a steady trot side by side. I wondered what the time was. It must have been more than two hours since I had lost my mother. How far had I ridden from that spot? I was beginning to get frantic.

We came out of a dark road into the open. Before me was a sight which would have been inspiring had it not filled me with apprehension. Dominating the moonlit scene were the stark grey machicolated towers of a castle rising high on the rocky cliffs … and beyond, the sea.

I stared at the lofty square-shaped structure with its towers on each corner. It was a fortress built for defence, with the protection of the sea on one side and the battlemented towers facing the land.

“Welcome to Castle Paling,” he said softly.

I turned to him sharply. “I understood you were taking me to the inn.”

“Nay,” he said. “This is better. I was unsure of the way, and I do not believe your mother would wish you to spend a night at an inn unguarded.”

“But …” I began.

“Come,” he said, “my servants will look after you. We cannot go on riding aimlessly through the night.”

“Aimlessly? We are certainly not doing that. We are looking for my mother.”

“My dear young lady, what more can you do? You have no idea where your mother went to. I have promised you that I will send servants to scour the countryside. Meanwhile you shall be given refreshment and a place in which to rest while they do so. As soon as she is found I shall take you to her.”

“Why should you do so much?”

“It is the only way a gentleman can behave to a lady in distress. Moreover, I am heartily ashamed of my conduct in the inn. Fate has given me an opportunity to remove the bad impression I gave you. Will you deny me the opportunity?”

“You have already made up for it. But I would prefer to stay at the inn.”

“It shall of course be as you wish. Believe me, I shall do nothing that is against your desire. What should we do then? Ride back to the inn? It would take us time to find it. And I could not permit you to stay in such a place unguarded. Your mother would never forgive me. Nor your father. Nay, fate sent me along at an opportune moment. I had the chance to save you from villains, of whose intentions I have no doubt, and in such cases they can end in murder. There are robber barons abroad, who take unprotected women—men too—to their strongholds and often make sport with them. It was a recognized custom in early times and such customs live on. Here I offer you hospitality. You will be safe here. My servants will care for you. And I promise you that I shall without delay send a number of them off in different directions. I doubt not in a short time they will bring news of your mother. They can escort her here to Paling. That will set her mind at rest and yours. And as soon as it is light you can start for home.”

Still I hesitated. I looked at that grim, grey fortress. I could hear the faint murmur of the sea. What could I do? It seemed I had no choice. I saw a light moving across what must have been a courtyard. Then I saw another in a window. There were people there. I must go with him. It was the only way. I could not roam, as he said, aimlessly through the night, searching for my mother.

He saw that I was relenting. “All will be well,” he said gently.

We climbed the incline to the castle.

“I would welcome the pleasure of showing you my home in happier circumstances,” he said.

I tried to draw my mind from thoughts of my mother.

“You are kind,” I answered perfunctorily.

“I am glad to be of service. Come, stop fretting. This night will soon be over and by daylight everything will seem different. Paling has long withstood the force of the elements. It is as strong as it was when the first stone was laid. It needed to be. It had to hold off intruders, and fight the weather. It is of Cornish stone—hard and strong, and has provided a home for my ancestors for generations. The foundations were laid years ago during the reign of the Conqueror but later on castles had to be made habitable, something more than just walls in which to protect oneself and one’s family. But you are not interested in architecture. You think only of how we shall find your mother. I understand. I talk but to ease you, if that be possible.”

We were approaching the portcullis. The cool wind fanned my cheeks and I could smell the fresh clean smell of sea air. I was aware again of that sense of being warned. It was as strong now as it had been at the burned-out inn. What was I doing, trusting this man who had behaved so badly at The Traveller’s Rest? Oh, when would this nightmare end!

Once more an impulse came to me to turn my horse and gallop away, and I restrained it. What could I do? I had told him that I had wished to go to the inn and he had brought me here. He was a man who would do what
he
wished. I knew that. He alarmed me, yet excited me in a strange way. I was not sure of my feelings for him. He gave out an aura of immense power, which at this time I needed. I could not help feeling that if he were sincere in his desire to help me in this frightening predicament, he could do it.

I went forward simply because I did not know what could happen to me if I went back.

We had passed under the portcullis.

“Quite a climb,” he said. “But you see how strong we are. A look-out on the tower could see people approaching for miles. No one can come near from the other side … except by boat of course, and that would not be easy.”

Colum Casvellyn started to shout and there was an immediate response. Several men came running.

He leaped from his horse and one of them took it. He turned to me then and helped me out of the saddle.

He took my arm and led me across the courtyard.

A door opened. A woman appeared with a lantern. She bobbed a curtsy and he said: “Gemma, we have a visitor. Let a room be prepared for her and some hot food be brought.”

She was off and he took me through the great hall to the guard-room.

I had a sudden feeling then that he intended to make me his prisoner. On the walls were spears and halberds and at the four corners of the room suits of armour.

“Sit down for a moment,” he said. I sat on a chair which seemed to have been made for a giant, so heavy was it.

He leaned towards me and taking my hands in his, patted them gently. “You are cold,” he said. “And so pale. You look different from the spirited young lady of the oaken chamber. It grieves me. How I should have enjoyed receiving you here with your parents in all honour. But let us forget the unfortunate circumstances.”

“I find that impossible.”

“Indeed you do and most understandably. Here you are, you see, in the castle’s guard-room. This is where we kept our prisoners in the past before taking them to the dungeons. Oh yes, we have dungeons. You see this trapdoor, that is one way to them. There is another. A staircase leading down and a strong iron-studded door which they tell me is impregnable.”