these and all the other worries overwhelmed him, he grew resentful of the torment. What cause did Philip have to be angry with him? After all, he had taken Elfael with but a bare handful of casualties. Most of the footmen had not even used their weapons. His first campaign, and it was an absolute triumph! What more could anyone ask?
By the time Philip, Earl of Gloucester, arrived with his retinue late in the day, Falkes was limp with nervous exhaustion. “Cousin!” boomed Philip, striding across the pennon-festooned yard of Caer Cadarn. He was a tall, long-legged man, with dark hair and an expanding bald spot that he kept hidden beneath a cap trimmed in marten fur. His riding gauntlets were trimmed in the same fur, as were the tops of his boots. “It is good to see you, I do declare it! How long has it been? Three years? Four?”
“Welcome!” uttered Falkes in a strangled cry. He loped across the yard with unsteady strides. “I pray you had an uneventful journey—peaceful, that is.”
“It was. God’s grace, it was,” answered Philip, pulling his kinsman into a rough embrace. “But you now—are you well?”
He cast a quizzical eye over his younger cousin. “You seem pale and fevered.”
“It is nothing—an ague born of anticipation—it will pass.” Falkes turned and flapped a hand in the vague direction of the hall. “Valroix Palace it is not,” he apologised, “but consider it yours for as long as you desire to stay.”
Philip cast a dubious glance at the crude timber structure.
“Well, so long as it keeps the rain off, I am satisfied.”
“Then come, let us share the welcome cup, and you can tell me how things stand at court.” Falkes started across the yard, then remembered himself and stopped. “How is Uncle?
Is he well? It is a shame he could not accompany you. I should like to properly thank him for entrusting the settlement of his newest commot to me.”
“Father is well, and he is pleased, never fear,” replied Philip de Braose. Removing his gauntlets, he tucked them in his belt. “He would have liked nothing better than to accompany me, but the king has come to rely on him so that he will not abide the baron to remain out of sight for more than a day or two before calling him to attendance. Nevertheless, the baron has instructed me to bring him a full account of your deeds and acquisitions.”
“Bien sûr! You shall have it,” said Falkes, nervousness making his voice a little too loud. Turning to the knights and men-at-arms in Philip’s company, he called, “Messires, you are most welcome here. Quarters have been arranged, and a feast has been prepared for your arrival. But first, it would please me if you would join me in raising a cup of wine.”
He then led his guests into the great hall, the walls of which had been newly washed until they gleamed as white as the Seven Maidens. Fresh green rushes had been strewn over the sand-scoured wooden floor, permeating the enormous room with a clean scent of mown hay. A great heap of logs was blazing on the hearth at one end of the room, where, on an iron spit, half an ox was slowly roasting, the juices sizzling in a pan snugged in the glowing coals.
Several board-and-trestle tables had been erected, draped in cloths, and decked with fir branches. As the men settled on the long benches, the steward and his serving boys filled an assortment of vessels with wine drawn from a tun brought from Aquitaine. When each of the guests was in possession of a cup, their host raised his chalice and called, “My friends, let us drink to King William and his continued good health!
Long may he reign!”
“King William!” they all cried and downed the first of many such cups that night. With the men thus fortified, the celebration soon turned into a revel, and Count Falkes’s anxiety slowly gave way to a pleasant, wine-induced contentment.
Cousin Philip seemed happy with his efforts and would certainly return to his uncle with a good report. As the evening wore on, Falkes became more and more the jovial host, urging his guests to eat and drink their fill; and when they had done so, he invited his own men, and some of their wives, to join the festivities. Those who knew how to play music brought their instruments, and there was singing and dancing, which filled the hall and lasted far into the