‘It amounts to the same thing,’ I said with a shrug. ‘These days Queen Marguerite reads all his letters and deals with most of them. However, you might get a commission of array and then at least you can recruit an army. It will take a siege to get Carmarthen back.’

‘But that will take months,’ Edmund complained. ‘Has no one got the ear of the Gruffydd creature? I just need him out.’

Geoffrey shook his head. ‘In my opinion you need do nothing, my lord. If you wait a month or so William Herbert will do the job for you. Even you do not hate Gruffydd more than Herbert does.’

‘But Herbert is York’s toady. He will not return Carmarthen to royal control will he?’

I intervened again. ‘Now that the queen – I beg your pardon, I mean the king – has dismissed York from the Council, sooner or later the office of Constable of Carmarthen will go to someone else – probably you, Edmund. Then you can legally demand the withdrawal of whoever is in there.’

My brother threw his hands in the air. ‘Yes but will they go? Holy Mary save me from Wales! Where nothing is straightforward and no one obeys the law.’

I slapped him lightly on the back. ‘Never mind that now – write to the king then let it go for a few days and enjoy the hunting. Wait and see what transpires.’

He flashed his famous smile. ‘Good idea! What have you got planned for us tomorrow – boar or stag?’

‘I thought Margaret wanted to go hawking,’ I said, intrigued to get his reaction to this suggestion.

For a moment Edmund hesitated, considering. Then he shook his head. ‘No, the falconer told me her merlin is not sharp. He needs to starve her for another day to be at her best. Besides, Margaret likes a good gallop as much as anyone. Let her follow us after the stag.’

‘As you like Edmund, but I must tell you that I promised Geoffrey the first kill.’

He glowered at Geoffrey. ‘Hmm. I could pull rank of course.’

I feared that good-natured Geoffrey was about to accommodate him when Edmund’s brow cleared and his smile shone out again. ‘But I find I cannot. Only make it a clean kill, Master Pole, if you please. My wife does not like a bloody mess.’

Geoffrey swept him a bow. ‘Have no fear, my lord, my arrow will go straight to the heart of the hart.’

Edmund groaned.

The sound of a horn announced another arrival and so I left them. It was my father, who had encountered the bard Lewys a few miles up the road walking in the same direction and taken him up behind him on his palfrey.

‘This mendicant said he was coming here,’ Owen said as he drew rein. ‘I thought it unlikely but then he started spouting some lines in Welsh, singing your praises, so I decided he must be telling the truth.’