B00B9BL6TI EBOK (28 page)

He had to break the silence. ‘I think it’s over.’

She nodded. ‘Yes.’

But he was wrong. From the higher part of the city came more shouts and screams, although this time without the clash of weapons. What was going on?

She knew, for she had been warned. ‘They’re looting.’

He was shocked. ‘They can’t be. We’ve won. We came to save you, not to destroy the town.’

But the sounds were coming nearer. Shouts. A door being kicked in. Gleeful calls. Dear Lord, the victorious army was breaking into the houses. How would he protect her? He looked futilely at his knife – it would be of little use if a gang of armed men broke in. But he had to try – he hadn’t come this far to give up now. ‘You should go and hide upstairs. I’ll stay here to try and see them off.’

‘You can’t.’ She was quaking, but firm. ‘You came here to save us, at the risk of your own life. I can’t leave you here alone to face them.’ She looked around then picked her way through the debris to pick up Gervase’s discarded and bloodied axe, which trembled in her hands. They stood side by side facing the door.

The looters had reached the empty house on the end of the block. Edwin could hear them crowing over their gains as they made off with whatever they had found. Then crashing and splintering coming from next door. A man’s voice, shouting at them to stop. The sounds of a struggle, a thump on the floor. Then laughter. Footsteps outside the house. He braced himself and gripped the dagger. There was a scuffle outside the door, and then it was flung back, crashing into the wall as most of the remaining hinges gave way. Alys swallowed and raised the axe.

A man stood in the doorway, but as Edwin’s heart lurched he recognised the figure. Dear Lord, it couldn’t be. Were they to be this lucky?

It was Sir Gilbert. He looked around at the carnage in the room and at Edwin.

‘I’ve driven them off, for now. I saw you outside the door a moment ago. Thank God I found you. You’re injured?’

Edwin looked down at himself, realising how he must seem. ‘No. It is not mine. Most of it is …’ he looked down at the shrouded figure on the floor.

Sir Gilbert followed his gaze. ‘Oh no. No. Please …’ He stumbled over and drew the cloth to one side. He fell to his knees, then looked up, confusion turning to anger, fury blazing in his eyes. ‘Who did this?’

Edwin backed away, afraid of the rage. ‘It was him.’ He pointed to the body of Gervase.

Sir Gilbert blinked as though he had noticed the other bodies for the first time. ‘What in God’s name has been happening in here?’

Edwin drew breath to answer but was interrupted by more shouts from outside. Sir Gilbert whirled around, sword drawn. Three men had appeared in the doorway, footsoldiers with some kind of livery which Edwin didn’t recognise. He tried to prepare himself for a fight, but the men took one look at the gore-spattered knight, the blood-drenched man behind him, the carnage and the corpses on the floor, and fled.

Sir Gilbert spoke. ‘No time now. Get upstairs, both of you. I’ll defend the house.’

Alys opened her mouth but Edwin knew better than to argue. The knight was angry, and any potential looters would bear the brunt of his wrath. The house would be safe, but she probably didn’t need to see the consequences. He took her arm and dragged her towards the staircase. ‘Come!’ Somewhat unwillingly, she allowed herself to be guided.

Edwin started up the stairs, but as he reached the top there was a sudden flurry of movement and he had a brief moment of warning as the knife came towards him. He ducked quickly back down and the weapon flailed over his head, the holder of it overbalancing. Edwin grabbed his assailant’s foot and pulled him over, readying his own weapon, but Alys screamed at him to stop and wrenched at his arm. He looked properly at his attacker and realised it was a small boy. It must be one of her brothers. Quickly he ascended the last few steps to allow Alys entry to the room, where she immediately grabbed the boy and held him close. He was obviously frightened out of his wits, but he had been ready. Over in the corner two other children huddled on the bed, looking in terror at him. He must look like a figure from their worst nightmares. Alys stumbled over to them and hugged all three children as they clung to her. Edwin stationed himself by the top of the staircase, dagger drawn, ready to repel any attack.

It wasn’t needed. He stood unmoving for what seemed like hours, but the trouble in the rest of the street didn’t bother them, the sight of the armed knight standing guard at the door being enough to put off any looters. Eventually the worst of the noise passed and moved on, and he risked moving back from the steps and sitting heavily on the floor. He realised how exhausted he was.

Alys looked up from the children. She was still white-faced. ‘I don’t understand.’

He realised that she didn’t know who either of the knights were who had come to her aid. ‘They are companions … friends of mine.’

She shook her head. ‘No. I mean … I don’t understand how Gervase could do those dreadful things. I’ve known him for years, he was a friend of our family, and yet …’

He wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t know how. ‘He’s dead. He will harm you no more.’

She nodded and fell silent. But after a few moments she spoke again. ‘When he said …’ she swallowed her next words, aware that the children were listening, ‘when he was saying those things downstairs, about what happened to Nick and to Papa. He must have had someone else. He didn’t say “I did this”, but “we”. Who was he talking about?’

Edwin reached forward and took her hand. ‘There’s something I have to tell you.’

It was late in the afternoon, and the last sounds of looting in the street had been some time ago. Alys sat on the bed in the chamber, with the children draped round her. Edric was still watchful, and hadn’t let the knife fall from his hand through all the day, but now it drooped as he fought against exhaustion. Margery and Randal were fast asleep, Randal’s hand clutched around a fistful of her gown even as he slumbered. Next to the bed Edwin lay sprawled on the floor, exhaustion having eventually overcome him too, but he still gripped the dagger in his hand as though ready to wake and defend them if the need arose. She wasn’t sure he would be able to, though, even if something did happen, for he was so deeply asleep that she’d felt obliged to check several times to make sure he wasn’t dead. From downstairs came the sound of the knight as he paced. He had stood guard at the door without flagging for many hours, and she’d heard how he’d been forced to drive away drunken thieves and looters several times. Gratitude to him – and to Edwin, and to the dead knight downstairs, and even to Aldred – penetrated every bone in her body. She touched each of the children in turn, stroking their faces, and knowing that they wouldn’t be here alive had it not been for the efforts of brave men to protect them.

The noises from downstairs changed – no longer a pacing but a kind of dragging – so she decided to go and see what was afoot. He’d told them all to stay upstairs, but surely the danger was past now. Gently she disentangled Randal’s hand from the skirt of her gown, and shifted quietly so as not to disturb Margery. Edric too had nodded off, so she laid his head down on the pillow. With a final look at them and at the slumbering Edwin, she moved towards the steps.

She was tentative as she neared the bottom, not wanting to startle the armed man, so she waited and coughed loudly before attempting to set foot off the stairs. He heard her and came through, bareheaded now and having laid down his sword and shield. Sweat streaked his face, but at least it was the one part of him not covered in dried blood, so he looked a little less nightmarish. He too looked exhausted and she felt a pang that he’d given up his chance to rest in order to protect them. His face was sombre and stern, and she was a little afraid. She had never spoken to a knight before – how was she supposed to address him?

When he saw who was standing on the stair, he softened and held out his hand to help her down. ‘Come. There is no danger.’ His voice was hoarse and his English accented.

She took his hand and stepped down. ‘Sir, I …’

He led her through to the shop and released her hand before turning to face her. He spoke gently. ‘My name is Gilbert. And you must be Alys.’

‘Yes, but how did you know?’

The corners of his mouth made an effort to turn upwards. ‘Edwin spoke of little else once he had returned to pass on your message.’

She didn’t know what to say, but was saved from replying by a look of some consternation on his face. ‘Is he …?’

She hastened to reassure him. ‘He’s asleep. As are the children.’

He nodded. ‘Ah, yes. Edwin said you had a family. Well, while they’re resting, perhaps you could help me. I’m trying to create some order down here.’ He gestured round the room, and Alys could see that he had already righted the damaged counter, and had moved Aldred’s body in from the kitchen. He saw her looking and spoke again. ‘I don’t know much of how you live in this house, but I thought if I cleared the kitchen then it might be better for when the children come down, so I moved him in here.’

She nodded her thanks. ‘Perhaps we should lay them out.’

‘Very well. Although I don’t think this one –’ he kicked Gervase, scornfully – ‘is worthy to lie with the others.’

Alys looked down at the man she thought she had known, who had been her neighbour since she was a little girl. As she surveyed the twisted face she felt anger rising within her. Until now it had been masked by the fear and tiredness, but it was hardening into revenge and she was surprised at her own vindictiveness. ‘I would throw him out into the street.’

He nodded his appreciation and heaved the body on to his shoulder. He carried it out of the front door, barely hanging on its last hinge, and disappeared out of sight down the hill for a moment. She heard a thump and then he returned. ‘He lies in the gutter, where he belongs.’ He took hold of the door and shut it with care, wedging it in place and barring it with the remains of a broken chair. ‘That will hold it for now, until something better can be found. Now, to work.’

Together they laid the bodies of Aldred and the other knight next to Nick, and straightened the limbs. She couldn’t work out how she felt about Aldred. She’d always disliked him, and even feared him a little, but he had died trying to save her, which surely made him a hero? Maybe one day things would be clearer, but just now she concentrated on trying to block out the sight of the huge wound which had left his head half hanging from his body.

The knight asked what had happened and she explained it as best she could, although she couldn’t account for Edwin’s almost miraculous timing. Once the bodies were laid decently, the knight made as if to cover them with some of the bloodstained cloth which littered the floor, but she put out her hand to stop him, thinking that they deserved better. He watched while she dragged out two unmolested bales of fabric, and cut a piece of fine serge for Aldred and one of the precious twilled silk for the knight, which she draped reverently round him. He looked at her in gratitude and knelt to pray.

After a few moments he arose, wincing as he did so, and she realised that she had failed in a duty. ‘You’re wounded!’

He shook his head. ‘No, just the stiffness setting in after such a day.’ He looked down at himself and flexed his hands and fingers. ‘I’m weary, no more. But perhaps you might have some water in which I could wash?’

She took him through to the kitchen and poured water into a basin, watching it turn red as he washed his face, head and hands. He looked ruefully at his armour and surcoat. ‘I’d better leave these on for now – I might need them as I go back through town.’ He saw the expression on her face. ‘Yes, I must go back, and I must take Edwin with me. But fear not, I’ll put some of my men to patrolling your street, so you should see no more trouble.’

She allowed herself to sink on to one of the stools, but jumped up again as she heard a strange noise from the yard, and something bumping against the kitchen door. After the events of the last day and night she was ready to fly into a panic, looked desperately around her, but the knight put up his hand to calm her. ‘It’s only my horse. I’m afraid I put him in your yard so as not to leave him on the street, and he has doubtless eaten your vegetables or trodden them into the ground.’

She brushed aside a consideration which might under normal circumstances have been serious. Right now she had other worries. ‘But sir, how can we ever thank you? How can we repay you? After all you’ve done for us …’

He looked steadily at her. ‘Thanks are appreciated, but not needed. Seeing you and your family alive is all I need. But perhaps you would say a prayer for the soul of my friend. I will send men to come and collect him later. And in the meantime, perhaps you would go and wake Edwin for me – I wouldn’t like to go upstairs myself for fear of frightening your children.’

She nodded and moved towards the stairs, but he forestalled her to finish speaking. ‘And don’t worry. I’ve heard him speak of you, and I know he’ll come back to you before we have to leave the city.’