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As Chrystobel mulled over her father’s allegiances, she was somewhat startled when Keller suddenly broke away from the man and headed in her direction. Trevyn trailed after the English commander as they approached her.
“It is time to retire for the night, my lady,” Keller said in an indifferent tone. “Bid your father and sister a good sleep so that we can be on our way.”
Chrystobel struggled not to show her apprehension. It is time to retire. God’s Bones, she knew what that meant, but it was imperative that she not display any hint of anxiety in the presence of her brittle sister, so she hugged the girl tightly, kissed her on the forehead, and passed her over to her father. Izlyn didn’t go easily, however, and Chrystobel spent several minutes convincing the girl that all would be well and that she would see her in the morning. Izlyn, fearful to be away from the only mother she had ever known and fearful for the terrible world in general, was in tears.
Chrystobel could feel Keller standing beside her, the heavy weight of his gaze as he observed the situation. She thought she felt his disapproval but she could not be entirely sure. In fact, she wasn’t sure about anything and she struggled to keep an even head about her. The past few hours had been very disorienting in many ways. As she made sure her father had hold of Izlyn, she turned to Keller.
“When you arrived, I instructed the servants to clean out my father’s chamber of his possessions,” she said. “I hope it is prepared to your liking.”
Keller’s emotionless gaze was upon her. “Then they should move your things into it, since you and I will be sharing it,” he told her. “Did you instruct them to do that as well?”
Chrystobel shook her head unsteadily. “Nay, my lord,” she replied. “I did not know that I would be a married woman by this evening.”
“Then mayhap we should retire to your chamber for the night,” he said. “Mayhap you would be more comfortable there until we can arrange the master’s chamber to accommodate the both of us.”
Chrystobel wasn’t sure what to say so she nodded hesitantly. “If that is your wish, my lord.”
Keller politely reached out to take her by the elbow and began pulling her towards the door. Chrystobel was stiff, and uneasy, but she didn’t resist. As she had initially observed, he had very big hands, anyway, so she doubted she could have resisted in any case. He simply would have overwhelmed her and dragged her to the door. She fell into step beside him, her thoughts inevitably wandering to what the evening would bring. It was difficult not to feel a swamping sense of embarrassment and anxiety, and as she struggled against it, Keller spoke.
“Mayhap you will tell me something of this castle as we make our way to the keep,” he said, his manner still rather cold. “I did not see much of it upon my arrival, in truth. I went from the bailey to this hall, and other than being in the keep earlier, I’ve not seen much of that which is now mine.”
Chrystobel paused as Keller pulled open the heavy oak and iron panel. “I would be pleased, my lord,” she said, hoping that he might forgive her lies to him earlier if they were to share a pleasant conversation. They had yet to truly have one, but more than that, her nervousness loosened her tongue. “Would you like for my father to accompany us? He knows more of the castle’s defenses than I do. I am sure you are very interested in those and I cannot tell you anything about them.”
Keller cast her a glance, his intense gaze piercing her soul as he peered down his nose at her. “I will speak with your father another time,” he said. “I would rather not have a chaperone on my wedding night.”
Chrystobel flushed a dull red, lowering her head as they moved out into the gentle night beyond. It was cold but not unbearable, and she was thankful for the darkness, covering the heat of her cheeks. His comment seemed most forward, bold even, but realizing he was her husband, she rationalized that he could say whatever he wanted to her. It was his right. This cold English knight was now her family, as strange as that thought seemed. Taking a deep breath, she began to point out some of the areas of interest around the bailey.
“Nether Castle was built more than one hundred years ago by the kings of Arwystu,” she said. “It was not built of wood as most were back then, but of the great stone you will see on the hills to the east. The fortress was built with the intention of watching their northern neighbors, the Cefeliog. The original name was Annwyn, which means the Otherworld or the place where spirits dwell. Living here as we do, we are somewhat isolated and sometimes it does indeed feel as if we are in the Otherworld. The lands in this region are mysterious and full of magic. But it was the Normans who gave the castle the name that you know it by – Nether.”
Keller was listening to her story with interest. More than that, he was particularly interested in her honeyed voice. She had a delicate timber with a slight lisp, which he found charming. He was quickly coming to realize that he liked to hear her speak in gentle dulcet tones. He’d known it from the beginning but now it was coming to have more impact. The walls he had built up around himself, or at least tried to, since the woman had lied about her injuries were inevitably crumbling. It was evident that he couldn’t maintain his indifference to her for long. There was something about her that softened him whether or not he wanted to.
“Then you do not call the castle Nether?” he asked. “What do you call it?”
Chrystobel shook her head. “We do indeed call it Nether Castle,” she said. “My grandfather called it by that name and so do we.”
Keller’s gaze was thoughtfully on his feet as they crossed the middle of the muddy bailey. “Nether means far away or well behind,” he said, glancing up to the tall, imposing walls that enclosed them. “This place is indeed far removed from most civilization. I understand why the Normans who first came to Wales gave it that name.”
Chrystobel glanced up at him, seeing that the man was still looking thoughtfully at his feet. She couldn’t tell if his cold mood was easing but she continued nonetheless. “When you arrived, you passed over a drawbridge that covers our moat,” she said, then cocked her head thoughtfully. “It is really more of a pit than a moat, and it bears the name the Gorge of the Dead because back when the castle was first built, bodies of enemies were tossed in it. They were left there to rot.”
Keller wriggled his eyebrows in an understanding gesture. “It makes perfect sense, then, to call it the Gorge of the Dead,” he said. “Go on.”
Chrystobel did. “You have already been in the keep, which has six big rooms to it,” she went on, pointing at the big, square structure looming in front of them. “There are three floors to it and two rooms to each floor. We also have three big towers, as I am sure you have noticed.”
Keller came to a halt and Chrystobel along with him. He paused to look at the three enormous towers that were built into the southeast, southwest, and northwest corners of the curtain wall. The towers were nearly as large as the keep itself, “D” shaped in structure, and built from the same dark-veined, gray stone that comprised the rest of the castle.
“These towers could be seen from miles away,” he said. “When we were approaching from the valley to the south, they were the first things we saw.”
Chrystobel nodded as she pointed to the southeast tower. “That is Tower Twilight,” she said. “It is houses the married soldiers and servants. The tower next to it, the southwest tower, is called Tower Night and it houses the armor and weapons. The northeast tower is Tower Day, and it houses our unmarried men or any visitors we may have. Your men will be housed there.”
Keller turned to look at her. “I have five hundred men with me and as big as that tower is, it will not be able to house all of them,” he said. “My knights will be rearranging the accommodations to suit us. I would assume your people have been told to cooperate.”
Chrystobel wasn’t so sure she liked that statement. It sounded as if the Welsh occupants were beneath the English who were here to take control. But the truth was that they were beneath the English. Nether belonged to them now, and everyone within her, including Chrystobel. She nodded in response to his statement.
“Aye, my lord,” she said. “They will be compliant.”
Keller’s eyes glittered at her in the weak moonlight. “Including you?”
“It is my duty to be compliant.”