I stared at him over the rim of the cup – it was then that I noticed he was no longer wearing the Pembroke livery of red and green in which Jasper’s retinue had marched away but his old bard’s tunic and hooded cloak.

‘There was a battle, as we expected,’ he began, his dark eyes studying my face intently. They were blood-shot and heavy-lidded, as if he had not slept for days. ‘Edward Mortimer lay in wait for us near his castle of Wigmore, beside the River Lugg.’ By Edward Mortimer I knew he meant Edward of York, calling him in bardic fashion after the Mortimer estates on the Welsh March, over which he had held sway since a boy. ‘We camped overnight and at dawn there was a fearful omen. We saw three suns rise in the sky and no one knew if it was a sign for good or evil. The French troops threatened to leave and all the men were unsettled, hardly ready for what was to come. I was no different. In the Yorkist lines banners were flying that were brought from the halls of Raglan, Hergerst and Tretower, in which I had often sung my poems. We were to fight friends and patrons. It was … distressing.’

His eyes filled with tears and I felt my own begin to sting in response. ‘Civil war is an uncivilized business,’ he said, steadying himself by taking a deep gulp of wine and clearing his throat. ‘Mortimer had more men than we did but Lord Jasper had deployed well, and through the first charge we stood our ground and forced the enemy to back off. But Yorkist cannon continued to cut down our men and we saw there was no answering fire, Lord Wiltshire had simply vanished, his company of foreigners had scattered and run, even abandoning their artillery. Owen surged forward to attack Mortimer with the men he had left but it was useless and now they outnumbered us two to one. Lord Jasper was forced to call a retreat.

‘Within minutes it was a rout and I was running for my life, along with Lord Jasper and his retinue. Your brother Maredudd was with him. Brave Owen rallied his men to the horse lines and they began a fighting retreat towards Hereford, taking Myfanwy with them, of course.’