Owain’s voice pulled me back out of my reverie.
“Magister, I’m sorry to interrupt your meditation but would ask you to come with me to my chambers. We’ve got a lot to talk about, and I’d like to begin before the night gets much older.” I’d finished my food without being aware of it. The young King and his brother led us out the back of the hall and into the private rooms beyond.
4
The King’s Counsel
Owain’s apartments consisted of an ante-room, an audience-chamber, and two further rooms whose doors were filled with fabric hanging across them. Our party included the two brothers, Ieuan the Druid, the young girl I’d sat near at table, two more young women, me and two of the King’s attendants. Two further servants were attending in the room itself, one looking after the fire. The fat-soaked torches gave off more smoke than light and more smell than either. They cast flickering shadows into dark corners, which would have made anyone nervous of dark spirits, not only the superstitious. The shadows seemed to fly away as we came in.
“Leave us,” Owain ordered the servants. “Magister Anselm, may I formally present my wife, the Lady Gruach,” indicating the young girl from the dinner-table, “and her ladies, Olwen and Morag. Lady Olwen is our cousin, Lady Morag is my wife’s kinswoman and best friend from childhood.” The three girls curtsied and smiled, and I bowed politely in return. All three were about sixteen or seventeen, I guessed. Gruach was dressed in a fine green woollen robe with a light brown cloak edged in gold. Her red hair curled gently to below shoulder-length and hung free of any restraint but a narrow circlet of gold at her brow. Her bearing was upright and confident and she was undoubtedly pretty, in a youthful and unformed way. She could grow to become a rare beauty - if childbirth didn’t wear her out first. The other two were pleasant looking enough but without whatever extra dimension it was that their mistress possessed.
“Ladies, an honour and a pleasure it is to meet you all. To see you brings youth back to an old man’s heart.” The two ladies smiled; Gruach laughed out loud.
“You’ve missed your calling, Magister,” she said, “you should’ve been a courtier or a Bard. Your silver tongue would have brought you great fame.” Owain was smiling, too. I thanked her for her kindness and assured her I was in the right place, tucked safely away from the temptations of the world, which made her laugh all the more.
“Well answered, Magister. My Queen likes to tease,” Owain said. “Away with you now Gruach, if you please, and take your ladies with you. I have some taxing questions to ask Magister Anselm.” The three girls retreated, whispering, to the further chamber.
He removed his crown and tossed it casually onto a fabric-covered bench under the only window. It was little more than a war-helm made of leather and iron, with a crenelated circlet of dull gold at temple-level. It was strongly reminiscent of a Roman helmet but the neck-guard had been cut short and there were no cheek guards.
He unclasped his cloak of wool, dyed red, edged and braided with gold thread, and threw himself into a high-backed wooden armchair, which was already covered with layers of red cloth. He hooked a leg over one of the arms and immediately began swinging it. His hair, now released from the crown, was dark and braided and hung to his shoulders. His green tunic and leather leggings, bound at the calf, and solid-looking shoes were suitable for either riding or walking. In the privacy of his own chambers and the company of his most trusted advisers, he was quite relaxed.
I hadn’t been advised that he was married, although there had been reports that he had sought to forge an alliance with Fife. He nodded.
“I did, but Gruach isn’t from Fife,” he said. “I went there seeking a peace treaty, to be sealed with a marriage to one of the King’s daughters, the more senior the better. But every one they showed me looked like a horse’s backside, and I concluded that they were not really interested in peace with Strathclyde - or maybe more interested in an alliance with the Lothians and through them, Northumbria, for I learned that the oldest had left for Dunedin[6] shortly before my arrival. If she looked anything like her kinswomen, it was a lucky escape.” He chuckled again. “Anyway, their heart wasn’t in it, neither was mine, and I think we were both relieved when we encountered an insurmountable obstacle.”
“May I ask what that was, sir?”
“It was the dowry,” Owain smiled. “I demanded - or rather Ieuan demanded - an enormous amount for doing them the favour of marrying one of their mule-faced women, and they weren’t prepared to pay it. I tell you,” he continued cheerfully, “a lot of research went into finding the right amount. Just high enough so that they knew that negotiation wasn’t going to bring it down to a reasonable level, and yet low enough to avoid giving insult. Ieuan whispered and plotted the whole night long to come up with the right figure, didn’t you?” Ieuan smiled in agreement. The wrinkled, leathery smile of an old man.
“Your counsel and experience was valuable, Ieuan. It was a lucky escape for us and for Fife, too, I think, and you earned your promotion to High Druid that day.” Owain went on to explain that he had asked Alba permission to cross their territory on their return journey and that they had been summoned instead to meet the Alban king at Scone. The British were suspicious of their intent but they were offered a guarantee of safe conduct and Ieuan’s divinations indicated that the augurs were good.
I glanced across at the Druid but he was looking at the fire - very intently looking at the fire, I felt. Divination was usually the province of someone like me, one with the Sight; something I knew Ieuan did not have.
Strathclyde had already concluded a peace treaty with Alba after the Battle of the Fords at Stirling, which had ended in stalemate. Alba wanted to cement the peace with an alliance, an offer that Owain and Gawain received favourably. They had Gawain in mind for the cement, as they thought that Owain was committed but the outcome of the negotiations in Fife eased the path for the strongest alliance possible. Gruach was the third daughter of the Alban king and (more to the point) his queen; not senior enough to be likely to confer any rights of succession in that kingdom, where the ruler was traced through the female line, but close enough to make an honourable settlement.