Chapter 28: Together

(Robin of Oaklea narrates)

Just before noon on a warm sunny spring afternoon, we merry men and one woman remount on fresh horses that are waiting for us on the side of the road, about ten miles from Oaklea, where we join the road between Bartown and Oaklea at a crossroad from the south. There another armed monk hands a message to Ranulf.

“Robin, a message from your mother, she fears the village of Oaklea is in the hands of marauders, her brewery draymen missing. She makes no mention of your mother, Lady Elinor.”

“No matter,” I say, “we must go on with all haste.”

“This is a remarkably good road,” comments Brother Canon Friar Ranulf as soon as we turn onto the road heading west. “It is better than any other I have seen in England, it reminds me of some of the wonderful roads I have seen near Rome.”

“It was built by my sister, Alwen,” I say proudly, not wishing to add to the detail, I am uncertain how a friar pledged to celibacy will understand the simple logic of my half sister also being my mother by marriage. It was a complication too far for some. “She is a remarkable woman. She had the road engineers dig up a cross section of old Roman road to find out how it was built and made them adhere to a copy of the foundations and various layers. In fact all that summer she travelled to the site in a covered cart, inspecting every yard of road. I know, because I learned how to ride a horse at that time, taking her lunch and the figures from the Inn and the brew house, to keep everything ticking over. Until this ride, I had forgotten that ten years ago as a small boy, I rode so much.”