The Traitor's Daughter (4 page)

“Hugh is taking the lead against the French. Some of the
men who did not run away stood with him and once they began to force the French
back, he sent the burgesses to bring back more men to fight.”

“So, he is safe,” she breathed.

“Safe? No, my lady. He is in battle. He is not safe and
neither are those near him, on either side.” He did not smile and Alais knew
that he was serious.

As night fell, she and Edmund were left alone again. The
wounded were sleeping restlessly in the barn and the servants had, for the most
part, returned to their normal tasks. In the darkness they watched the town,
still burning. “He will not be back tonight,” she said quietly to Edmund. “It
is too dark now for him to travel. There is no moon, nor likely to be.” She
looked sadly up at the cloudy sky.

“I know.” But still he looked into the distance and not
at her, as if looking could make his master appear.

“I know you would rather have gone with him,” she said.

“Yes,” he said bitterly, “I should have been by his
side.”

Alais was struck by the man’s loyalty. It seemed to her
that there was a deep relationship between the two men, which was rare between
a noble such as Sir Hugh and a villein, like Edmund. Something held them
together, something she could not yet understand. She yielded to the temptation
to touch him and put a hand on his arm. “Come and take some food and then rest,”
she said. “I fear there will be a great deal to do tomorrow.”

With one last look down the road as if hoping to see a
horseman appear out of the darkness, Edmund followed her back into the manor
house.

It appeared the servants had been waiting for either
Alais or Edmund to return before they served the evening meal. Alais knew that
the whole village would have gathered in the hall to share a meal after mass
that morning, so their meal tonight would be light. And now that she was giving
it some thought she realised that she was hungry, not having eaten since the
previous evening and then only sparsely. Matthew came forward and led her up to
the dais. She sat there alone. Edmund sat at one of the tables along the walls
and was joined by the priest. Alais realised and thought herself stupid for not
realising or enquiring earlier, that since this manor belonged to Sir Hugh, as
his father’s wife, she was the highest ranking person here and that was why she
had been given the highest seat and why the servants had waited for her. Alais
found the hall quiet compared to mealtimes at Leigh where there were always
cousins and visitors sitting at the table with conversation and laughter.

The food was good and there was a quantity of it.
Matthew, being a good steward, had noticed that she was in need of sustenance.
She had thought that her fear about her mother would have robbed her of her
appetite, but she found that even if she had not been hungry, she would have
taken account of her advice to Edmund and eaten well in preparation for the
events of tomorrow. She was too tired to care that she was alone at the top
table. The events and strains of the day had finally caught up with her. Had
they been at Leigh she would probably have invited Edmund and the priest to
join her, but this was not her home and she did not know how such things were
managed here.

As well as good food, she was also served a seemingly
endless quantity of good, but strong wine – one of the advantages of living so
near a port that had good links with Gascony. She was not so tired that she
could not appreciate it, but was careful not to drink too much; she wanted to
sleep, not be unconscious.

Once the meal was over Matthew showed her to the bed,
also up on the dais, that was separated from the main hall by a screen. She
looked in confusion at the large bed and realised that this would be hers for
the night. Always having had sisters or cousins, or, on this journey her
mother, to share with, she had never slept alone. And now in a strange house,
worried about her mother’s safety, she was to be alone for the first time. The
sounds of the male servants making themselves comfortable in the hall came
through the screen. It was comforting to know that there were people nearby.

She took off her outer garments and got into the bed and
curled up under the blanket, trying to get warm.

Although the autumn days were already getting short and
damp, the small screened-off room was warm and the bed was dry. Alais quickly
became drowsy and found her thoughts wandering to the knight who had rescued
her.

Leigh was not secluded and she had met all their
neighbours socially. She had met many nobles’ sons, including some who had
acquitted themselves well in the king’s service, but there was something
different about Sir Hugh. She knew that it was dangerous to dwell on the effect
that he had had on her, but even if he could do nothing for her mother, he had
saved her own life and deserved her gratitude. There was little she could do
for him in her current situation. Perhaps her gratitude and friendship would be
enough. There would certainly be time to get to know him better as they
travelled to Liss together. A small shiver of anticipation ran through her body
at the thought. She was definitely in danger from Sir Hugh, that much was
clear. Was there anything in his appearance that should have warned her? She
thought not; apart from his height, there had been nothing remarkable about
him. Certainly his fair hair made him stand out but his face was marred by a
nose that had been broken at least twice. With a small scar above his left eye
and another one on his chin, he was definitely not handsome. Yet there was
something that had called her to look at him, rather than the more handsome
Edmund.

Until Sir Hugh had touched her she had not really
thought of him as a woman might think of a man, but by then it was already too
late; she could no longer deny to herself that she was attracted to her
husband’s son. Horrified, she thought that she should be confessing her sin,
rather than dwelling on it. Now she missed her mother needing her guidance.
Alais despaired at the thought that Lady Eleanor might no longer be alive, that
she would have to make her own way from now on. Of course, she had her husband
and he would guide her, but she suspected that she would not be able to discuss
as much with him as she had with her mother. Certainly she would never be able
to tell him that she found his son attractive. She could have told her mother
and Lady Eleanor would have told her what to do. Alais tried to imagine her
mother sitting by the bed discussing the events of the day as she had so often
in the past, but she knew what she would say, that Alais must honour her vows
completely. Alais clenched her fists as she recognised that she could not allow
herself to be distracted by this man; she belonged to her husband, not his son.

When Alais awoke it was still dark, but there was noise
coming from the other side of the screen. This must be what had woken her.
Hearing men talking in low voices and the sounds of things being picked up and
set down, she called out for a servant to bring her lighted candles. She was
immediately attended by the woman who had waited on her the evening before.
Heedful of the expense of using candles in the morning, and the cold of the
early morning, Alais dressed quickly and passed into the hall. Edmund and
Matthew were talking quietly, seated at one of the side tables. Edmund was
picking at a plate of bread and cheese. When they noticed her, they stood and
walked across the room to her.

“Good morning, my lady.” They both bowed to her.

“Good morning, is there any news?”

“None.” It was Edmund who spoke. “Will you break your
fast now, Lady Alais?”

Matthew glared at Edmund, unhappy that he had not been
able to get his word in first.

“That would be most welcome.” She forced herself to
smile her gratitude, although her concerns about her mother were uppermost in
her mind.

The steward led her once more to the lord’s chair and
she sat. Almost immediately, some servants appeared with some bread and cheese
and a cup of small beer. It appeared, however, that Matthew had decided to wait
on her himself, as he took everything from the servants and offered it to her.

“Please, Matthew, you must have many other, more
important, things to do. You need not wait on me. I can find you if I need
you.” Alais knew that their own steward at Leigh would have been busy that
morning if the nearby town had been under attack. She did not want to have Sir
Hugh’s manor disrupted for her sake.

“My lady, Sir Hugh will be most displeased if I do not
take proper care of you.”

“Matthew, I have not received better care in my own
house. Sir Hugh’s hospitality has been prompt and generous. I have wanted for
nothing since I arrived. I shall be happy if you leave a boy and attend to your
other duties. I do not want to keep you from anything important.”

“If you please, my lady, with my lord expected at any
moment, I have no pressing duties and my place is here until he comes.”

Alais considered a moment and saw that Matthew was
correct in his assessment of his priorities and made no further objection.
Instead, she finished her meal, inviting the steward to sit with her. He
refused, but was happy to answer her questions about the manor and the way that
it was run. She was glad to be able to return the favour of distracting him
from his more pressing worries and also learned a great deal about the kind of
man that her rescuer was. Although he did not seem to be a natural farmer, he
was wise enough to take his steward’s good advice and the crops and animals did
well. Matthew did not seem to be trying to hide his lord’s shortcomings and
that pleased Alais. It seemed to her that Matthew had the proper respect for
his lord, but did not go in fear of him, which was as it should be.

Like the meal the evening before, the bread and cheese
were delicious and Alais could not stop herself having two more cups of the
small beer. She complimented Matthew on his brewster.

“Sarah,” he explained. “It did not seem right to set her
to heavy work when Lady Maud died, so we taught her how to brew and bake. She
looks after the still-room and the herb garden as well.”

Alais smiled, the still-room was her own special
province at Leigh.

Edmund came back into the hall. “Has Sir Hugh returned
yet?” she asked him, beginning to rise from her chair.

“No, I expect him at first light. The fires are out, so
it should be safe to go back.” Alais had not realised that it was still not
light outside. It would be quite dark in this hall even in summer. She
continued with her meal and once Matthew had cleared everything from the table,
Alais walked outside. In the grey of the pre-dawn she looked down the road,
half expecting to see the tall knight on his bay warhorse coming towards her.
She felt rather than heard or saw Edmund move up bedside her and they looked
down the road together.

Alais found herself wondering now what would happen if
Sir Hugh did not appear. Would Edmund abandon his charge and go into the town
to find him, or would he send the stable boy? Would they still be able to keep
Matthew from running away to find his daughter? Edmund had not spoken to her,
except to answer her questions, so she had no idea of his character, but, so
far, he had obeyed his lord’s command, so she had no reason to believe that he
would abandon her now.

“He will come,” she heard herself saying. “He must
come.”

She heard him before she saw him, just as the first
light of day began to appear in the east and then he was with them in the
courtyard. Edmund let out a deep sigh and she almost reached out for his hand
to join in his relief. As the horseman drew closer, she saw that he was not
alone. Someone sat awkwardly in front of him on the horse. Gradually Alais
could tell that it was a young woman and, although it would surely have been
easier for them both if she sat astride the horse, she sat perched awkwardly
sideways in front of Sir Hugh and it looked as if Sir Hugh was doing all the
work to keep her on the horse. As they came into the courtyard, Alais saw that it
was a young woman heavy with child. The woman seemed unaware of where she was
and her eyes were unfocused.

“Marion!”

The young woman made no signs of recognising her name;
she did not even turn her expressionless face towards her father who had rushed
from the house to help the girl down.

“She is unhurt, Matthew,” explained Sir Hugh as he
lowered her gently into her father’s waiting arms. “She was obviously too
unwell to go to Mass yesterday morning. I found her in the wreckage of their
home. She has not said a word since I found her.” Sir Hugh met Alais’ eyes and
she knew it was to avoid looking at Matthew, for he too would have seen in them
what she did. Sir Hugh was lying. He could not lie often, for he did it so
badly. She wondered if the girl had told him anything or whether, like herself,
she had at first mistaken him for a Frenchman and been terrified and rendered
speechless.

Now it was getting light, Alais could see that Marion’s
clothes and skin were covered in soot. As she slid from the horse, her cloak
parted slightly and Alais saw that her clothes had been torn. Realising the
truth that Sir Hugh was trying to hide she looked up again and he lowered his
eyes to show that he knew she understood. Surely, he did not think he could
keep the truth from Matthew forever?

“Piers?” asked the steward, holding his daughter to him,
oblivious to the silent exchange.

Sir Hugh shook his head and the steward bit his lip. “He
was a good man.”

Matthew walked slowly and carefully back into the manor
house, speaking softly to Marion, as he carried her in his arms. Alais half
turned to follow them, to see what help she could give, before she remembered
that this was not her place, they were not her people and she had had her own
reasons for waiting in the dark. She looked back expectantly towards Sir Hugh
who had now dismounted. He patted his horse affectionately, then returned her
gaze. He seemed to be having difficulty staying on his feet, swaying slightly.
He was just as filthy as Marion. Something about him had changed. He was no
longer the man who had rushed off unthinkingly to a fight; there was a hardness
to him that had not been there yesterday. Alais tried not to think what he
might have seen or done to bring about that change.

“Did you get any sleep last night, my lord?” All through
the journey here with Edmund, through the time she was looking after the
townspeople, through the long evening and night she had thought about this
moment and this was not the question that she had planned to ask. Strong knight
though he undoubtedly was, he seemed to her to be the one in need of help just
then.

He shook his head and gazed into the distance. “No.
There was too much to do. It was as if hell opened and spilled a little bit of
itself onto the town. It was not enough for them to kill and pillage. They
maimed and destroyed and…and…” his voice fell to a stunned whisper, “And they
enjoyed it.” He straightened himself, as if shaking off the memory. “Once we
had seen off the French the looters started their filthy work.”

The sudden silence stretched around them. She had moved
closer, thinking he might fall from his weariness. Sir Hugh had turned back
from whatever had taken his attention while he was speaking and they now stood
face to face.

There was a noise behind him and they both started as
the boy appeared to take the horse, but Sir Hugh shook his head and ruffled the
hair on the boy’s head, although Alais thought it was less a sign of affection
than a way of pulling himself back to the present. “Not this time, Tom,” he said,
“I am going straight out again. Can you get a horse for Lady Alais.”

“Already done,” muttered the boy. He blushed when Sir
Hugh smiled his appreciation.

“Did you beat the French, sir?”

“Yes, the French are gone. I am afraid there are none
left for you to fight.”

Tom grinned up at Sir Hugh and ran off to get the
horses. Edmund, having waited for Sir Hugh to deal with his guest, now went up
to him and grasped him warmly by the shoulders. Sir Hugh retuned his welcome,
then broke away reluctantly and turned back towards Alais.

“I am afraid I have some bad news for you.”

Alais hugged herself as if that would afford some
protection from what Sir Hugh was going to say.

“I found your mother and she lives, though she is very
badly wounded. I fear we must take a priest with us when we return.” Alais
shuddered, her initial joy shattered by his final words. “I would not take you
there at all,” he continued, “but for the chance that your mother will still be
alive when we arrive.”

Alais nodded. It was no more than she had feared. At
least her mother would not die unshriven like so many who had fallen the day
before. Sir Hugh turned back to Edmund.

“Can you raise Father Roland from his bed? I fear there
are too few priests in the town for the work that must be done there this day.”

Edmund nodded and strode off towards the church and the
little house that stood beside it. A servant appeared and forced bread and
cheese on his young lord, which Sir Hugh ate standing where he was. Realising
that it would be a while before they were ready to leave, Alais said, “May I go
and see what help I can give to Marion?”

Sir Hugh showed his surprise, but also his relief and he
gave his permission willingly. “And perhaps you, my lord….” She stopped; it
seemed outrageous that she should dare to give the older knight advice.

“And perhaps I, my lady?” he encouraged her, smiling
slightly.

“Perhaps you might take a few moments to rest. All seems
ordered enough.”

He smiled more fully and Alais’ heart lifted. How odd
that a stranger’s smile should do that to her.

“I am afraid not, my lady, but I thank you for your
concern. I have much to organise before we leave, for I see we have visitors
from the town and I have orders to give… Well, I have much to do.” His face was
serious once more. He bowed to her and walked away to the barn where the
remaining townspeople were beginning to stir.

Looking after him, Alais thought that even his walk
looked tired, but his coming had restored her and she felt she was ready for
what was to come, strengthened by the knowledge that he would be there with
her.

Alais went into the house and asked the first servant
she came across where the steward was. He led her to a room where Matthew was
pacing distractedly, while a female servant tended to Marion. Alais recognised the
woman who had marshalled the healing efforts the previous afternoon.

“Can I help?” At her words, the steward crossed the room
to her.

“Please, my lady, you need not.”

“It is no trouble. We are not ready to leave yet.”

She looked at the woman. It seemed that everyone
conspired to keep the true state of affairs from Matthew, for she responded
immediately to Alais’ offer. “My lady, I need to wash her and change her
clothes and put her to bed. I cannot do that while Matthew remains.”

Alais turned to the steward again and took one of his
hands in hers. Looking him directly in the eye, so that he would understand,
she said, “She will be much more comfortable in bed, Matthew.”

“I cannot leave her, my lady. She and my grandson are
all I have left.”

Alais’ stomach turned. Surely Sir Hugh would have
brought the boy if he still lived, even if he was badly injured. That thought
did not seem to have occurred to Matthew and Alais was grateful. There would be
time enough for grief later.

“It would be as well to permit us to attend to her needs
and then return once she is abed. There is nothing you can do now.”

“She is my child.” The steward’s voice was pleading and Alais’
heart sank. How could she ask him to leave Marion when she needed him most? It
was probably best not to say that Marion was completely unaware of her father’s
presence and would not notice whether he was there or not.

“Please let us tend to her. You need only wait outside
and we can call you if we need you.”

At last the man moved away and left the women alone.
Alais looked around and realised that this was the manor’s still-room.

“Thank you, my lady.” The servant immediately set to
work undressing the girl and Alais went to help her.

“Do you mean to tend her here and have her carried to
the steward’s house to sleep?”

“Yes, my lady. This is near enough for them to bring
water for a bath. I thought to bathe her first, for cleansing and then a salve
for her bruises and cuts. Then a potion for forgetfulness.”