‘We’ll see you back at the camp,’ Wace called, to which Eudo added with a laugh: ‘If Fitz Osbern doesn’t eat you alive, that is.’
I shot them a sarcastic look, but no retort came to my tongue. Robert was beckoning for us to follow him and the other great lords through the embroidered drapes behind the dais, and I had no choice but to leave Eudo and Wace.
Beatrice was standing by the curtain. ‘That was foolishness if I ever saw it,’ she said, falling into step beside me. Her admonition was betrayed by her smile, and that cheered me a little, though not quite enough to bring one to my own face, since I knew that behind that smile lay hope. Hope that could only lead to hurt, for I could not return what she felt.
‘At least I entertain you,’ I answered stiffly as we ducked beneath the hanging drapes into the small antechamber behind the hall.
She must have noticed the coldness in my manner for she regarded me with a questioning look.
‘The hour is growing late,’ she said. ‘I should retire. Hopefully our paths will cross again soon.’
‘I’m sure of it, my lady,’ I replied in as neutral a tone as I could manage.
She bade a quick farewell to her brother, making her apologies to Earl Hugues, the castellan Roger and Fitz Osbern before taking her cloak from her maidservant who must have been waiting: not Papia this time, I noticed, but a plumper girl with dark features and a sullen look about her.
And then she was gone. I felt a stab of anger at myself. I hadn’t meant to seem unfriendly, but what else could I have said?
Fitz Osbern bade his wife a good night and then gestured for us to be seated. A round table stood in the middle of the chamber with several chairs arranged around it. Berengar took one, as did I, making sure that I sat opposite from him where I could keep a close watch over him. No doubt he was thinking likewise, since his narrow eyes were fixed upon me.
‘What?’ I asked, but he said nothing.
Fitz Osbern was still standing, his hands planted firmly on the table in front of him. ‘Now,’ he said to myself and Berengar. ‘Under other circumstances I would reproach the two of you for your outbursts. However, since there are more pressing matters at hand, on this occasion I am willing to forgive such indiscretions, providing that you listen to what I have to say.’
He paused, making sure that we had heard, before addressing everyone: ‘I believe a suggestion was put forward for a twin-pronged campaign against the Welsh. What we must all agree upon is how we should proceed from here, and how our forces are best to be divided.’
For a moment I was taken by surprise. I had assumed that my proposal was to go unheard.
Berengar was the first to speak. ‘I don’t believe this, lord. Why are you listening to him? What right does he have to dictate how our host should be disposed?’
‘None at all,’ Fitz Osbern replied. ‘But I do. I am persuaded of the plan’s merits and that, as far as you are concerned, is all that need matter. I will gladly listen to any alternative proposals if you have them, but as I see it our best approach is this: for one smaller party to move quickly from the south, the aim being to penetrate deep into Powys and raid far and wide across their country, to seize cattle and burn their crops and so deprive them of resources, and to otherwise divide their attention. Meanwhile a second, larger host will march into Gwynedd to the north, descending upon the enemy while, with any luck, they are distracted.’
‘How many men do you intend to send on each of these expeditions?’ asked the castellan, Roger de Montgommeri: the first words I had heard emerge from his lips all evening. He spoke slowly, but not in a dim-witted way; rather in a calculating manner, which lent him a certain presence in spite of his less-than-imposing stature.
‘No more than a thousand and a half in the northern party, and five hundred in the southern,’ Fitz Osbern answered. ‘Among the latter will be the brothers Maredudd and Ithel together with a contingent of their own men. They will have their kingdoms eventually, but before they do, they must first prove their worth to us. Their knowledge of the land will prove invaluable besides.’
‘Which means you plan to leave around another four hundred in reserve this side of the dyke,’ said the castellan, frowning slightly as if musing aloud.
‘I believe that ought to be sufficient to defend Scrobbesburh if required.’
Sufficient to hold the castle, probably, but whether it would be enough to prevent the enemy from taking the town, I was less certain. Still, it seemed unlikely that the Welsh would march upon Scrobbesburh itself, since they would surely need to rout both of our other forces first, or else they would leave themselves with an enemy in their rear.
‘And who do you suggest should lead these attacks?’ asked Robert.