Castle Cary was much as I remembered it; the sprawling village outside the palisade might have grown a little larger perhaps, but otherwise it was mostly the same. I rode inside the gates immediately behind Wulfstan and kept my eyes and ears open. No harm would come to me here (on the contrary, I believed Wulfstan would care for me very well indeed – until he no longer had any use for me, that is) but being aware and prepared was prudent. I also vowed to seek out a safe place to change, and I did not mean my clothes.
‘Fuck me, it’s you!’
Out of curiosity, and not for one heartbeat believing that the person was actually speaking to me, I turned to look at the man who had shouted, and nearly fell off my horse.
Idris?
It couldn’t be! The man was dead. I had killed him with my own fair hands.
Blanching, I stared at him for too long, before realising my error. Composing my expression with haste and hoping he had not read the shock and recognition in my eyes, I turned away, the man’s image seared into my mind.
Lordy, but Cai wore a strong resemblance to Idris, and the sight of him unnerved me. He was probably around the same age as his father had been when I had last set eyes on him, and memories of those final few moments of Idris’s life flooded back. Fighting to prevent my hands from shaking, I tightened my grip on the reins and tried to keep my expression blank.
‘It is you.’ Cai pushed his way through the throng of horses and men until he reached my side and grabbed hold of Aelwen’s bridle. My horse shied at the sudden movement, nearly unseating me, and for a moment I struggled to control her, thankful that her nervousness bought me a little time before I had to face him.
Cai. Who would have thought I would encounter him in Castle Cary? I had practically forgotten the man-boy who had helped me flee from Llandarog and to see him here, looking so much like his father, was disturbing indeed. I would have to be doubly careful.
‘Cai, leave Lady Caitlyn alone.’ Wulfstan’s voice was full of sly laughter as he watched the scene unfolding before him. I could tell he was enjoying this.
‘The bitch killed my father.’ Time had clearly not mellowed the horror of Idris’s death, because Cai’s face wore a mask of hatred, peppered with a fair amount of revenge.
‘Take a closer look, man. It is not her, it is her daughter,’ Wulfstan explained, dismounting and throwing his reins at the nearest servant. He strode across the bailey and slapped Cai on the back. ‘She looks remarkably like her, doesn’t she?’
‘Lady Caitlyn? But—?’ Cai’s gaze darted from Wulfstan to me, and back again. He still looked ready to drag me from my horse and hang me from the nearest tree.
‘She is named after her mother,’ Wulfstan said. ‘Another Lady Caitlyn.’ He gave Cai a look I failed to interpret.
Cai frowned, but he let go of my horse’s bridle and took a step away. My horse calmed immediately and I made to dismount. The sooner I was shown to whatever room I was going to sleep in, the better. I needed to steady my racing heart and compose my shredded nerves before I faced either Wulfstan or Cai again.
‘Here, let me help you,’ Idris’s son offered.
As I slid from the saddle, I felt Cai’s strong hands around my waist and I shuddered at his touch before he released his hold.
‘You have scared the daylights out of her,’ Wulfstan said, and I let out my breath in a whoosh of relief.
Of course, he would think that was the case. My paranoia would be the death of me, one day.
‘Please accept my apologies, my lady. I can see now that you are too young to be her.’ Cai spat the last word out, the bitterness in him plain.
I gave him a cautious nod, all too aware of his inspection.
‘You look so much like she did.’ Cai’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinised me, and I shifted uncomfortably under the weight if his regard. ‘Is she well?’
‘She died many years ago,’ I said, and watched as the bitterness in his expression faded a little.
‘Good.’ He swivelled on his heel and stalked away. I would have to be very wary around this man, indeed. Not only was I in danger of slipping up, but he may not be able to deal with my remarkable resemblance to the woman who had murdered his father.
Conscious of many eyes on me, I held myself stiffly, trying to avoid the gaze of those who had stopped what they were doing to watch the entertainment.
Another voice took me by surprise, although I should not have been so shocked to hear it considering this was her home, and I turned to see Sigrid bearing down on me, like a ship in full sail.
The years had been kind to her and although she had filled out and had become plump, she was still the woman I knew from my last time under her roof.
‘Let me look at you,’ she commanded. ‘If I did not know better, I would have staked my life on you being the original Caitlyn. You look so much like her, it is uncanny.’ She walked around me. I stood patiently and waited for her to face me once more. ‘You are as welcome here as your mother was,’ she said, after a long pause.
That was a two-edged offer, if ever I heard one, I thought, careful to keep a pleasant smile on my lips. I recalled how Sigrid had resented me at first, and how her attitude had only relented once she realised her husband had no interest in me. Arthur’s déjà vu rose up to mock me, and to cover it, I curtsied, but not before I saw the sudden comprehension on Sigrid’s face. She knew straight away what game her husband was playing, and what the stakes were.
‘Thank you, my lady,’ I forced out between frozen lips, and I kept the fake smile plastered on my face until I had been shown to a little chamber and was safely alone in it.
Sinking onto the bed, I held my head in my hands, the beginnings of silent laughter racking my frame. The irony of it! It is said that what goes around, comes around, but I had not understood the saying to mean that life comes full circle, until now. This circle of mine was whirling rapidly, and it had come to rest in the exact same position as the last time I had visited Castle Cary. All the stars were lining up, the dice were cast, the stars were aligned. Whatever it was – fate, destiny, God’s will – my life was playing out in almost the exact same way as the last time I was in this place.
Caitlyn, daughter of a dead king of Gwynedd, wife of a dead king of Deheubarth; Idris the man who would have taken Rhain’s place, both on his throne and in his bed; Wulfstan, ambitious, plotting, grasping. We were supposed to have been the triumvirate to seize power in Wales, to wrestle it back from Seisyll, but magic had other plans for me, and the result had been the death of Idris and the death of Wulfstan’s plan.
I stuffed my fist in my mouth and bit hard, hoping the pain would help me control my mad laughter.
Wulfstan’s plan was in the process of being resurrected, with Caitlyn’s “daughter” as one focus, and Idris’s son as the other. Not even William could have predicted this – he had merely been pandering to Wulfstan’s ambition, and neither of us had really believed that Wulfstan would actually revive his plans to achieve a foothold in Wales. It had seemed preposterous, and although I had not said anything to William, I did not think Wulfstan would fall for the story and I would be surprised if anyone actually remembered Queen Caitlyn at all.
But Wulfstan had Cai…
I took my fist out of my mouth and tapped my fingers on my chin. Dear God, but the irony of it was too much. I had travelled all the way to Normandy, had been turned into a damned cat, and had been forced to commit acts which I preferred never to remember, only to return to England to find myself in almost the exact same situation as I had been in when it all began. My eyes streamed with tears and my shoulders shook with mirth. This joke which God was playing on me was very funny indeed. Who knew that He had such a wicked sense of humour.
Abruptly, my hilarity ceased.
I had spying to do.