Young Dafydd had been conscientiously about his duties from an early hour, working diligently on the tasks that had been set for him. It was an important day, as he'd been granted permission by his master to travel with him on an unexpected journey. At this stage he was unaware of its destination.
Although he still had a lot to learn, Richard was putting his trust in him which he took seriously.
Soon there was a sound upon the air of leather saddles creaking and reins being taken up. Dafydd scurried out from where he'd been working to find the party of men preparing to depart. Richard had chosen a smaller, fairly docile animal for him to ride, at the same time being spirited which he thought was within Dafydd's abilities to control. At least he hoped so.
As the men settled down between pommel and high cantle, voices were heard murmuring and last minute adjustment to stirrups were being made, saddle bags refilled. Most of the party had stayed overnight at a large inn nearby.
The horses were becoming fidgety, eager to get started, some pawing the ground and stepping sideways when the men lowered themselves into saddles.
Richard made last minute checks himself, acknowledging the presence of a few other men accompanying him. He glanced over to Dafydd, seeing him sitting straight-backed, reins in hands, a serious expression on his face and smiled to himself.
Then activity in the courtyard ceased altogether, the gathered party setting off, soon disappearing through the main gates, riding two and three abreast, the pace increasing to a steady trot. The sun still low, was lightly misted - an early spring-like breeze causing the banner at the front of the mounted riders to flutter with a gentle movement.
The manor house suddenly felt empty around her. Katherine had been gazing wistfully from the window overlooking the courtyard, knowing her husband's absence would be necessary, her home for the moment, feeling eerily quiet. It was difficult to accept at first, but necessary.
She turned to Martha who had just entered the solar, the last horses with their riders blotted from view, leaving small clouds of dust in their tracks. Where they'd assembled had been a hive of activity, now all was quiet apart from a few birds aloft a tall tree singing and chirping.
'So they've gone then?' she said quietly, almost to herself, head bowed examining her clasped hands held in front.
Before answering, Martha bobbed a quick curtsy glancing over to where her mistress was sitting by a window.
'It appears so madam.'
Katherine sighed slowly, turning toward Martha. 'I couldn't see them off. It's too upsetting - so sudden.' She was still feeling confused.
'No madam.' Martha walked over near another window and looked out briefly as she busied herself, adding, 'At least the weather holds fine. There is nothing worse than getting soaked at the beginning of a long journey.'
'Yes, that is a good start - indeed it is Martha.'
Apart from worrying about the journey Richard was undertaking, she was aware it was expected of her to at least appear under control, even if deep down she was already missing her husband. Tears would not achieve anything. From an early age she learned to curb her emotions, even though they may be raging inside her. After all, she was Lady Katherine Trowbridge and must gain the respect of the servants, believing respect needed to be earned. It was necessary now, to centre her thoughts on other matters, regardless as to the sadness and emptiness she was already feeling. It may be a long time before Richard returned.
Katherine had only just turned twenty years of age, and although young, was very capable when she put her mind to it. But it puzzled her when Richard received that message - the suddenness of it, leaving the very next day - she didn't understand its meaning, thinking no doubt there was had to be a very good explanation behind it. She was still feeling uncertain as she left the room.
Richard was mindful of the need to take young Dafydd along with him, the lad riding with confidence and within a few strides behind his master, aware slightly that something was amiss. Nevertheless with youthful intelligence and willingness, wished to keep within earshot in case he was needed at any time. It was not for him to question his master. He was being tested and although nervous, wanted to prove his worth.
Before leaving, Edmund and Hugh had worked hard to prepare the horses - saddles and bridles needing last minute adjustments, while Dafydd, with due care, had been allowed to clean Richard's sword and prepare other items to be taken. Although very young, he was determined to prove to Richard he was capable of anything asked of him. Richard hoped in time as he grew older, Dafydd would become more competent.
The road ahead was narrow and winding, rutted after the winter and not easy for the horses. At first they only made slow progress, but once clear of a thick woodland into open countryside, the horses quickened their pace from a trot to a steady canter for a while.
Richard was again riding his favourite horse Bedwyr. Apart from being named after one of King Arthur's companions to whom he sometimes entrusted his sword, Bedwyr was keen to have his head, at first pulling on the bit, but soon settling to a quieter rhythm. His rider was well aware of the horse's temperament, handling him accordingly.
Other than Dafydd, accompanying Richard were three other men from the estate, trusted for their ability and loyalty.
Roger, many years older than Richard, with a fierce rough-hewn look about him, reminding his lord of a newly felled tree trunk. His dark features appearing severe at first, hands well worn from years of toil, but possessing a good strong common sense attitude, able to reason, although he never learnt to read. Not many did, but Roger was hard working, reliable, once proving himself a worthy victor in a fight he was involved in on the estate. He always stood up for what he strongly believed in, not always able to bend with the wind, which possibly was a good thing anyway.
Toward the end of his life, Richard's father was mortally wounded on the battlefield at Lewes, which took place a good year prior to the battle of Evesham. Roger had been present at the time, being loyal to Sir William, when victory went to Simon de Montfort, the king's army having been defeated. About that time the barons, led by Simon, were tired of bad government, of royal extravagance, preferring rather the country was governed by a council.
On the eve of the feast of St.Pancras, the king's army were camped at the priory, their presence causing considerable disruption for the monks.
After the battle north of Lewes, the king's army retreated to the priory and it was here that Richard's father was buried. He did not die immediately, and Roger who stayed loyal until the end, saw to it that a priest was summoned, in order for the last rights to be administered. Sir William had been a well known knight and fought bravely on the side of the barons.
Owen, who had a Welsh father and an English mother, rode alongside Roger. He was in his mid thirties, with two small children and a doting English wife who worshipped the ground he trod.
Alex, the younger of the three, was unmarried as was Roger, possessing a keen eye for the girls, or rather sometimes ladies a little older than himself. There had been some gossip in the local village, of a girl who was too free when his charms overwhelmed her. His fair hair and blue eyes complimented his good looks and easy manner. He was also a steady worker and Richard trusted his judgment. He had a good head on his shoulders most of the time.
The way ahead was becoming easier during their first day in the saddle, the party of men covering many miles, at times close to the river, passing through several villages and a town or two. The weather remained fine, and as they ventured northwards, the air became cooler. Plumes of pale smoke drifted from rooftops, as if dancing on the gentleness of breezes, wafting into the chilling air. The men tightened clothing to keep out the cold.
Before pausing at a small monastery for the night, the sun glowed golden, gracing the tips of hilltops, as it sank low behind a whisper of clouds toward the western sky, leaving a temporary peace upon the land.
The next day saw them experiencing light rain, the weather becoming inclement and cloaks, mantles and any other items of clothing were once again drawn tighter around necks and over saddles.
The rate of progress was temporarily halted, the state of the roads becoming wet and slippery. It was at that moment they had arrived at crossroads, a few looking surprised at the interruption, when those at the front drew on their reins.
Alex turned to Owen with a questioning frown. They had been engaged in some desultory chat, riding side by side for the last few miles.
'Now what,' he said under his breath, sounding somewhat impatient.
Owen twisted in his saddle, noticing a group of horses approaching from a side track. 'Think we're about to find out,' he answered, keeping his voice low.
Richard pulled on his reins, drawing up beside them.
'Now there's some faces I recognize.' It had been some time when he'd last laid eyes on the three men about to join their group. John, William and Simon had accompanied him to and from Kenilworth, toward the end of the previous year. They were in the employ of Katherine's father and always an asset to have around. Richard was well accustomed to their abilities and secretly pleased to see them.
The tall man who had delivered the message to Richard at his manor, nodded in their direction. 'Greetings gentlemen. Glad you could join us.'
William answered with a tone sounding none too pleased, but for now needing to curb his tongue. 'Yes sir. We are too.'
The tall man turned his horse at the front and led them forward once more, the rain easing, as a chill wind gripped them, turning their clothing cold and damp.
Richard wasn't far behind, thinking that this journey was becoming more and more mysterious. The three men who had joined them, rode alongside Richard for the time being.
John skewed slightly in his saddle, his head to the left facing Richard.
'It seems like you, we have been summoned. Do you know what this is all about and what is required of us at journey's end?'
'Not exactly,' replied Richard, somewhat nonplussed. But several ideas were going through his mind as he wondered why these three men had joined them at this stage.
Eventually after what appeared to be a long endless distance, riding many more miles, and another night's stay at a run down inn, they came upon a large camp.
One by one they swung down from the saddle, glad to be free of it for a while, or at least so they hoped. It was good to stretch legs and let the blood flow back into veins.
It was no surprise to Richard that a chosen few were asked to appear before the prince, their presence immediately required without giving them pause for breath.
Edward himself was ensconced within the centre of the camp, his colours fluttering above one tent in particular.
Richard, with the three retainers, John, William and Simon, were ushered through the tent flap and sitting at a trestle table busy writing, was Edward - one day to be king of England. He was surrounded by a few of his advisors, not looking up to acknowledge them as they approached for what seemed like minutes passing - but eventually facing the four men who had entered. His expression was difficult to read.
They went down on one knee until the prince raised them up with a simple gesture.
'I see you've arrived gentlemen, and may now be wondering why you've been summoned.'
Richard paused briefly before answering.
'Yes sir.'
'Hmmm...' muttered Edward, his face still unreadable. He related a few brief words to a waiting monk for several moments, who nodded and made his exit, before addressing the men standing before him, awaiting their fait.
'Do you remember how you revoked your allegiance to Simon de Montfort last year?'
There was another long pause before Richard answered again, trying to think on his feet.
'Yes sir.'
Richard and the other men were by now, beginning to feel a little uncomfortable, not knowing where this was leading.
The prince looked away, then slowly brought his gaze back to the expectant faces of the men standing before him.
'I thought it about time that new loyalty to my father the king, was brought to bear.'
The feeling among the men was becoming one of almost fear and trepidation. Was this going to be an old score the royals needed to settle? They didn't dare utter a word until prompted to do so - Edward continued.
'But first I'd like you to join me in a tournament that's being held tomorrow.'
This was not what the men were expecting. Not by a long way. It was almost possible to hear the temporary fear being lifted from their shoulders as each man let out a slow breath quietly. Their fear for now, was abating, wondering what the morrow had in store for them.
Was this a twist of fait?
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