I knew almost nothing of Lady Margaret but Jasper had once told me about when he first met her at court and his account had disturbed me because he had given the impression, intentionally or not, that he thought the sun beamed from her noble backside. In my perverse way I had concluded that such a paragon of virtue was quite likely to be a pain in that part of the anatomy, the sort of pain I was now literally suffering due to prolonged and unfamiliar contact with the saddle. As my fingers also froze to the reins in the icy wind, I began to wonder if the big wide world was where I wanted to be and if a blue-blooded countess who was also a spoiled brat was someone I wanted to serve. Nor did I hold out much hope that the present Jasper Tudor would be the same smiling and likeable person I had found so appealing on his first appearance at Tŷ Cerrig five years ago. Would he still be so charming and easy now that he was installed in his earldom and lord of all he surveyed? The nearer we got to Pembroke the greater my misgivings grew.

Having at last turned away from the coast, we wended our way for several days through mountain passes and green valleys, staying at inns and hospices and finally finding hospitality at Carew Castle, despite the absence of its lord, who was one of Gruffydd ap Nicholas’s sons. I had found Carew daunting with its soaring turrets and high walls but that was before I set eyes on Pembroke the following day. During our journey some of the churches and abbeys we rode past had amazed me, but I had never laid eyes on anything to compare with the huge and fearsome edifice that was Pembroke Castle.

Viewed across an expanse of rippling water, it crouched like some gigantic monster on a steep rocky promontory, its mighty lime-washed towers and battlements appearing to grow out of the pale rock beneath, as if it was rooted in the earth itself. It looked like a man-made white mountain, indestructible, impregnable.

I had to clear my throat to find my voice and ask Maredudd weakly, ‘Is that the entrance?’ pointing to a huge arch in the base of the cliff that appeared to be the maw of the monster. A cluster of boats and people on the mud flats in front of it might have been its prey.

My brother laughed. ‘No, that is the great cavern. A natural cave connected to the castle by an inside stair and used for landing and storing supplies and armaments. The main gatehouse is around the other side and leads from the town straight into the outer ward. First we must cross the bridge.’ He indicated a stone structure arching over the narrows where the River Pembroke flowed into its estuary.