The Traitor's Daughter (3 page)

She wondered why she and her mother had not been invited
to spend the night here on their way to Liss, rather than stay in the town with
friends. It had been no hardship; the de Montjoyes usually stayed with Roger
and Margaret when they had goods to sell or buy in Southampton, but it would
have been more fitting to their status to spend the night here, with Sir
William’s son. They had not been aware that he owned property near the town.

“My lady?”

Alais turned from her contemplation to see a female
servant. She inclined her head slightly to show that she was aware of her
presence.

“Matthew has asked me to look after you, since you have
brought no one with you.”

Again, Alais inclined her head to acknowledge the truth
of the statement. She had not considered the journey to be long enough or
difficult enough to bring a maid with her and she had assumed that her husband
would provide a maid once she arrived at her new home.

“I have made arrangements for a bath to be brought to
you. And if you permit I will see what I can do with your dress.”

Alais had not thought how she must look, but she followed
the servant’s gaze down her skirt and realised that it was filthy. Her hem was
black from the dirt in the streets where she had been running and there were
smudges spotted over it which must have been smuts from the fires. She nodded
again, sure that whatever the servant could do, short of washing her dress,
would be an improvement. As she continued the thought her hand went to hair.

“I will do what I can with your hair,” smiled the woman,
“but I have had no lady to care for since Lady Maud died.”

Alais knew Lady Maud had been Sir Hugh’s mother, the
woman she had replaced. Strange that she had thought about Sir Hugh, rather
than his father, her husband. Lady Maud had been dead these four years.

“What is your name?” asked Alais, “Should I need to send
for you?”

“Sarah.”

“Do you need my clothes now, or will there be sufficient
time when the bath is ready?”

“I will take them while you bathe, my lady”

Alais smiled and the woman left. Alais knew that this
was an attempt on the steward’s part to distract her from the very real danger
in which they were from the French. At any moment she expected to hear Edmund
running and calling for her to leave immediately. It would be a shame if she
had to leave her bath!

Alais began to look forward to the bath. She had not
expected one on their journey to Liss, which would only last four or five days.
It was an unexpected luxury and she decided to make the most of it.

She watched from the big chair as the servants began to
make the bath ready, first bringing the wooden tub into the screened area
behind the dais where Sir William must sleep and then bringing vast quantities
of hot water. She realised that the kitchens must be larger than she had
thought. Soon the bath was ready for her and she followed Sarah behind the screen.

Steam was rising voluptuously from the hot water. Sarah
asked Alais which of the herbs and lotions lined up on the floor beside the
bath she would like to have added to the water and then followed her
directions.

Without waiting for Sarah to leave, Alais undressed and
eased herself into the bath waving away Sarah’s attempt to assist her. The
temperature of the water was perfect. The lotions and the ointments and soaps
had the desired effect and her body began to relax, even if her mind could not.
She slowly washed the smell of the fire from her skin and her hair.

Sarah had left Alais a heavy cloak for her to wear over
her shift while Sarah was cleaning her clothes and Alais slipped into it
gratefully, the room seemed cool after the warmth of the bath on her skin. Now
that she was clean, she had time to examine her husband’s chamber. There was
not much to see. The large curtained bed took up most of the available space.
She sat on it and decided that it was most comfortable. Against one wall was a
large, brightly-painted chest. She knew that this would contain Sir William’s
clothes and other possessions. A small shelf held a jug and a tiny, delicate
carving of the Blessed Virgin and Our Lord as a baby. She guessed that this
must have belonged to Lady Maud.

Sarah reappeared with Alais’ dress. It certainly looked
much cleaner.

“Thank you,” she said, taking it from the servant and
pulling it on over her shift.

Sarah then attended to Alais’ hair. Alais had expected
her to be rough; she could not have had much practice with Lady Maud, since Sir
William would not have brought her to this estate very often. When Alais
complimented her on her skill, Sarah replied that she had been Lady Maud’s maid
when she was a girl and had gone with her on her marriage to Sir William.

“And have you been here since Lady Maud’s death?”

The older woman nodded.

“Sir William had no reason for a lady’s maid when he no
longer had his lady.”

Alais thought that the woman was leaving much unsaid,
but decided not to pursue it. It would be unseemly to be asking questions of
the servants about her husband or his previous wife. She wondered, though, that
Sarah had not been called back to Liss to be her own maid.

Sarah had finished and turned to go. “Wait! Is there any
news from the town?”

“Much, my lady.” The older woman shook her head, sadly.
“And none of it good. Many people have left the town. A number have found their
way here, but I do not think we will be very safe if the French arrive.”

No, thought Alais. Their only hope could be that the
French would pass by on their way elsewhere. She wondered now that she had
bothered with the bath. They should be readying themselves to fight the French.
Biting her lip, she restrained herself. Edmund was in charge here and he had
been told to keep her safe. He would be taking care of the manor’s defences.

Alais went out into the courtyard and was surprised at
the number of people sitting there as if waiting for something. She noticed
that the servants moving around outside carried swords at their waists. Some
men stood at the gatehouse waiting to raise the gate for the next group of
people coming in, whilst ready to defend the manor against invaders. She saw
Edmund and Matthew talking together and went to them.

“You seem well-prepared,” she said.

“Yes,” replied Edmund, “Hugh has spent much time here
making sure that we can defend ourselves.”

Alais wondered at that.

“But this is such a small property she said, “Would it
not be better for the people to flee?”

“No, this is Hugh’s only property. It came to him on his
marriage.”

Now Alais understood. This was the property of the tall
knight, her stepson, not her husband.

Deciding that she could be of no use in defending the
manor, she turned her attention to its temporary inhabitants.

As the afternoon wore on, a large number of people
started to arrive at the manor house fleeing the destruction being wrought by
the French. Alais helped Matthew to welcome them, directing them to the church
or the barn depending on the extent of their injuries. Servants were assigned
to the barn to look after the wounded.

The townspeople were scared and tired. The village’s
priest moved among them, offering what solace he could. He moved off with the
first group directed to the church. Alais assumed he would pray with them. None
of the injured was likely to die, so he would not be required to offer last
rites to any of the people in the barn. Alais noticed that Edmund was
questioning each group as they entered the courtyard, either asking for
information about Sir Hugh or trying to gauge the threat from the French. She
walked over to confirm her suspicions. A man had just arrived with a small
child. They were both unhurt.

“What’s happening?” asked Edmund.

The man shook his head.

“Don’t know. Lots of fires. Lots of dead people. They say
it’s the French invading.”

Edmund shook his head impatiently. He already knew this,
he needed new information.

“Did you see a knight?”

“Knight?” repeated the man.

“A tall, fair man on a big bay horse, with a sword,”
interjected Alais, impatiently.

“No. Could have done with one, though.”

“Thank you,” said Edmund, directing them to Matthew.

“I am sure there is no need for you to worry about him,”
Alais offered, when he returned.

Edmund looked at her dismissively. “I do not worry about
him. I should just like to know what he is doing.”

Alais smiled faintly at the lie.

“Very well. I am sure you are correct,” and she moved
away herself to go and help Matthew.

This was a situation for which she had been preparing
herself for the last few months. Leigh had been in danger from the day the war
had started and she had made plans for the time when she would find herself
defending her home against the French. Edmund had told her that Sir Hugh had
made defensive preparations, even though he had not taken the idea of a French
invasion very seriously. She could only assume that he had also prepared for
the eventuality that people from the town would take refuge within his stone
walls.

Alais went into the barn. Here the wounded were being
treated by some girls directed by an older servant. 

“Can I help?”

The woman turned, her expression doubtful.

“I am skilled with herbs and not frightened by blood,”
explained Alais.

The servant’s face darkened in anger. “There is much
blood here, my lady. It is not something for one such as you.” Alais knew she
could help here and did not want to be turned away just because she was a noblewoman
and this servant did not think her capable. She allowed her voice to take on a
harsher tone as she responded.

“I was prepared to help my people in just such a time as
this. I am not there, so I must trust that my women paid attention when I was
teaching them. I am here and even if you have better skilled healers, I can
still do the manual tasks and release someone else.”

To Alais’ relief, the woman agreed with her reasoning
and nodded her head. She had not wanted to have this argument with Matthew or
Edmund, for they would surely have kept her in the manor’s hall out of harm’s
way.

“Molly,” she called out, “take Lady Alais with you.”

Alais saw a young girl step forward. She was being
assigned to one of the youngest servants. The older woman had a low opinion of
her skills and her ability to deal with this situation and was testing her.
Alais bit her lip to keep in the words that would spill out in her own defence.
She had to remind herself that this was not her home and the people here could
have no idea of what she could and could not do, so she rolled up her sleeves
and followed the girl.

Molly was plainly scared. She was looking after a woman
who had a bad cut to her arm. Alais smiled at both of them confidently. She
reached out and held the woman’s hand. “That must be painful,” she said,
quietly, so as not to scare either of them, as she tried to examine the wound
through the slit in her sleeve and the darkness of the barn.

The woman nodded. Her face was filthy, covered in
tear-smudged dirt.

“Do not worry,” said Alais, “it will leave a scar, but
you will be able to use the arm.”

Both the woman and the servant relaxed. Alais looked at
the girl. “What do you propose to do?”

The girl looked scared again. Alais realised that this
must be her first experience with an injured person on her own.

“First, I must make sure I can see what the injury
really is,” the girl stammered at last.

Alais nodded her encouragement. “Very good,” and,
cutting the woman’s sleeve with the knife that hung from her belt, she began to
roll up the sleeve of the woman’s dress so that the girl could see properly.
Seeing that Alais was going to assist and not take control, the girl cleaned
the wound carefully and they both studied it. “It will need a poultice,” said
the girl, more calmly. “But it will not need stitching.”

“What herbs would you have me fetch?” asked Alais,
seeing that it would do the girl more good if she assisted rather than took
over.

The girl, made brave by her success so far, named a
selection and Alais nodded her approval and went to fetch them. She then went
in search of hot water while the girl worked out the proportions required.
Encouraged by Alais' approval, the girl was now working confidently to finish
her preparations. Alais added the water and the girl bound the poultice to the
wound. The woman smiled her thanks and Alais and the girl worked on, moving to
the next person who needed them.

In the mid-afternoon Matthew sent a bucket of small beer
out for them to drink. Alais left the barn and sought out Edmund. “We should
think about feeding these people.”

He grunted. “It would take a miracle to feed this
number, but it is not my decision.”

“We cannot wait for Sir Hugh to return,” exclaimed
Alais.

“I mean it is Matt’s decision. He is Hugh’s steward, not
me.”

“Then I shall speak to him.”

As she went in search of Matthew, she had to agree with
Edmund that it would, indeed, take a miracle to feed this number of people.
They had kept coming all afternoon and the yard was full of people moving
between the barn and the church.

There was not enough to feed everyone, but Matthew
agreed to feed the women and the children and eventually some pottage was
brought out for them.

Later, as it started to get dark, some burgesses on
horseback arrived. They spoke briefly with Edmund and then went back to the
town with all the able-bodied men and as many of the wounded men as felt they
could fight the French. It occurred to Alais that the French must be finding it
more difficult to invade than they had thought, although she wondered what this
army of merchants and sailors could do against French soldiers. They must have
found a leader and she wondered whether it was the tall knight who had saved
her life. She sensed that Edmund would not simply tell her what he had
discussed with the burgesses and swallowed her pride to go and ask him.