Ludovic watched her tears glisten suddenly in the glancing sunlight. “My good girl, I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “Do you take us for kidnappers? Procurers for Southwark’s molly houses? Cannibals?”
“Since you thought my beautiful Gamel’s life was worth just a few pennies -”
“Three sovereigns.”
“Do you think I’d sell my brother for three hundred sovereigns? He was such a good boy. Both my brothers are – were – so kind and loving and clever. I suppose you think people like us can’t possibly be good or clever.” She was increasingly distracted, constantly rinsing her fingers in the bowl of bloody water, then pushing them through the thick coils of her hair. “But I don’t understand. Pagan followed us that day, I know he did. And none of us have seen him since.”
Ludovic watched her as she struggled not to cry. “Whether or not you meant to kill me,” he said quietly, “you’ve still taken a dreadful risk. You must realise that if I choose to make this public, you’ll be hanged without question. Were you that desperate?” Alysson nodded, silent. “But how can you possibly imagine,” he continued, “that my family has some sort of absurd vendetta against yours, and wishes to annihilate you one by one? For what conceivable reason would anyone have stolen away your younger brother?”
“I don’t know.” She hung her head. “But within two weeks I’ve lost both my brothers. You see, since the great battle when my father was killed, life has been so very wretched. We all dreamed of – a turn of luck. When Gamel was taken on as apprentice at your stables, it seemed as though perhaps things would improve at last. And then –”
Ludovic had wedged himself up against the old lichened wall and was sitting supported, nursing his arm as it bled profusely through the bandage. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Genuinely sorry. But boy apprentices are killed sometimes. Chargers are notoriously dangerous, being trained to battle and bred for strength and temper. They have sometimes been known to kill their own riders, and will certainly kill on the battle field. It’s a hazard all grooms face, especially the young trainees. And it may not seem much in my family’s favour, but in fact the three sovereigns compensation I gave was considerably more than usually paid under such circumstances. And I delivered the purse myself, believing an official appearance by one of the Sumerfords was warranted instead of simply sending the coffin unaccompanied and barely explained. And I am sorry if I seemed arrogant. That was – unintentional.” He smiled slightly. “It is, perhaps, my natural manner.”
“I suppose I would have known all that,” Alysson said to her lap and to her fingers fidgeting with the remaining bandages. “And you did arrange for me to get work at the castle, even after I was rude to you. And my being rude was – intentional.”
“But,” Ludovic continued, “Perhaps we should now consider a more practical programme. You have still lost your younger brother, and I am without a horse and unable to walk.”
Alysson looked at him dubiously. “And you’ve still got one of my arrows sticking out of your leg.”
“Something I have hardly overlooked,” Ludovic admitted. “But I don’t need your medical skills for that. I can deal with it myself. Some clean water, and the rest of those bandages might be helpful.”
She tipped the twisted strips of torn linen into his hands, and scrambled up. “I’ll get the water. It’ll take a minute. The stream’s down the bottom of the rise.”
The second arrow had pierced Ludovic’s left leg, deep into the outer thigh muscle. As soon as the girl had trudged out of sight, he ripped open the unravelling wool of his hose and began to ease out the arrow shaft, widening the wound and loosening the imbedded passage of the metal. Gently and slowly the arrow, remaining intact, released its grip and was drawn free. It emerged thick with dark blood and engorged with small worms of flesh and sinew. Ludovic regarded it a moment, then lay back against the damp stone with a sigh. His leg throbbed unceasingly, but the worst of the pain was ebbing.
The girl came back, a little breathless. “I suppose,” Ludovic said faintly, indicating the arrow and its dripping point, “I should just be glad you didn’t use a broadhead. But this is a bodkin, and far too lethal for peacetime use – or poaching – which I presume is what you originally intended doing.”
Alysson set down the bowl beside him. “These were my father’s arrows,” she said. “Gamel kept them for practising. And it was Gamel who always – well, I shouldn’t say any more.”
“Don’t be absurd,” said Ludovic, losing patience. “Putting him on trial for stealing his master’s livestock would seem singularly pointless under the circumstances. Now,” and he proceeded to wash and then bandage his thigh as Alysson watched. As he tied the final knot, he looked up at her again. “And you needn’t worry. I don’t intend hauling you before a jury for attempted murder. Not that you don’t deserve it.”
“Does it hurt very much?” inquired Alysson sympathetically.
“Of course it does,” Ludovic said tersely. “And should at least be stitched if not cauterised, none of which is possible here. You’re a confounded nuisance. And just how was knocking me unconscious going to help get your little brother back anyway?”
Alysson shook her head. “Having you weak and confused, for me to ask questions. Besides, I wanted to humiliate you. Though it wasn’t planned. I was out looking for pheasant when you rode by.”
“How convenient for you.” Ludovic flexed his thigh muscle and winced. “Unfortunately I doubt I can make it back to the castle just yet. It’s a damned long walk, probably three or four hours even without a limp. And I can’t send you there for a spare horse. They’d arrest you on the spot. So you might as well run home. Once I’m able to stand, I’ll make my way somehow. And tomorrow I’ll see if I can trace your brother.”
“That’s silly.” Alysson shook her head again. “You can’t stay here alone in the wet. It’ll be ages and ages before you can walk that far, it could even be days. It’ll be freezing cold tonight. You could die. I don’t want to get blamed for that. And if you do walk, it’ll just make the wound worse and you’ll end up having to have your leg cut off or something. Besides, there might be wild boar. And robbers. People use this old tower for hiding out, you know. That’s why I found this bowl here, and sometimes other things are left here too.”
Ludovic smiled suddenly, evidently amused by something he did not explain. “But surely not ready supplied with bandages for possible accidents?”
“Actually, you’re wearing half my shift and now you’ve bled all over it anyway. Which is a shame really, because I only had the one.”
Ludovic laughed. “I suppose I should buy you another one. But the castle apothecary will find it highly suspicious that I present my injuries already bandaged with a woman’s intimate apparel.”
“Can you,” Alysson wondered, frowning, “think of a possible excuse for all this? I mean, will you try? I suppose in the end you’ll think it’s easier just to tell the truth and haul me off to the magistrate after all.”
“Since I am not in the habit of expecting sudden attacks to my person while peaceably riding my own lands, I have no plausible excuse ready at hand.” He continued smiling. “But I shall think of something. For reasons which escape me, I have no intention of having you arrested over this. Now, before it gets any later and I change my mind, you should get off home.”
“I’ll have to stay with you,” Alysson decided. “When you fell off your horse, you hit your head on the stones and you were unconscious for ages. I dragged you in here, which wasn’t quick because you’re dreadfully heavy, and then I even had time to tear up my shift for bandages and fetch water too, and when I got back you were still cully-headed. Actually you look rather bosky-eyed even now.”
He felt it. “My apologies for being so dreadfully heavy,” he murmured, “and also for appearing bosky-eyed, whatever that entails. I gather you also had time to search me for weapons, and steal my knife.”
“Well, otherwise you
might have woken up and tried to kill me.” She paused, blushing slightly. “I wouldn’t have blamed you really. I suppose you still have a right to be angry. Actually, considering everything, you’re being awfully polite.”
Ludovic grinned suddenly. “Apart from the ruination of my good clothes,” he said, “I confess I’m finding it all rather interesting. Mind you – having my arm and leg amputated sometime next week might spoil my humour somewhat. As for you staying here with me, that’s entirely unnecessary. Sooner or later someone from my dastardly family will no doubt miss me and come looking.”
“Will they guess where you are, do you think?”
Ludovic thought a moment. “No,” he said. The hunting party had taken an entirely different direction.
“Well then,” said Alysson. “Stop being annoying, and just put up with me.”
Chapter Five
On waking, Ludovic was surprised to realise he had slept. He was even more surprised to find a girl in his arms. Her dark hair, a little damp, tickled his nose. Her head was nestled against his uninjured shoulder, and she was still sleeping.
Ludovic lay quiet, careful not to wake her, but also careful of his own body. Every bone stabbed in a hundred places but pain was concentrated around his left arm, his left thigh and the back of his head. The hard wet stone beneath him was unpleasant, but the girl’s warmth had kept the extremes of cold at a distance. He breathed slow and shallow, attempting to clear his head. His memories were vague, and he did not know how much time might have passed since his fall. Under shelter of the curved stone stairwell he could not see the sky, but a general darkness enclosed him and no daylight entered from the high window slits. October nights fell early, but he hoped it was not yet so late. He shifted a little to ease the pain in his shoulder, and discovered the girl’s green gaze intent on his face.
In the deepening gloom Ludovic saw the pearlised sheen of tears along her lashes, and the damp reflections on her cheeks. She was shivering. Instinctively he drew her close. “What hour is it?” he asked.
She thought a moment. “I don’t know.”
Ludovic had no idea which one had first embraced the other, or even whether more than the simple need for warmth had inspired it. But the cold was bitter and their closeness imperative. He smoothed one finger beneath her eyes, wiping away the recent tears. Her skin felt chilled and very soft. “You shouldn’t be here.” He smiled into the shadows. “You should be safe at home. If you stay here much longer, you’ll lose more than the comfort of a good night’s sleep. You’ll lose all reputation. You must know that.”
She sniffed. “Don’t be silly. I have no reputation. No one knows I’m with you and no one cares. I’m not much liked in the village. They call me foreigner, because I wasn’t born in Somerset. But Ilara and Dulce will be dreadfully worried. After losing Gamel and now Pagan too, they’ll be terrified, not knowing what’s happened to me. I should go back to them. Can you walk yet?”
He had been wondering exactly that himself. Alysson tentatively moved away and the icy freeze struck immediately with the loss of her closeness. The torn ruins of his clothes clung damp to his chest, and where the bloody bandages were knotted around his arm and leg, the bitter cold bit. He caught his breath, willing the pain away. Then he began to crawl himself up backwards against the stone wall, taking his weight on both feet and straightening his legs.
He tumbled sideways, gasping, gulping ice. For a moment he saw nothing. Blind and gagging, a dreadful dizzying nausea paralysed him. Alysson knelt at once, peering down. He spoke softly into the utter darkness. “Are your father’s arrow heads by chance bound with copper glue? Do you know?”
She didn’t know. “Does it matter? I think Papa would have made his arrows in the usual manner, whatever that is. Those he left at home were alike to all the others.”
“Copper glue then.” Ludovic sat again, forcing back the bile in his throat. “It generally poisons the injuries it makes. But the wounds were well washed, and they’ve since bled enough to cleanse them again. I’ll be dizzy and nauseous for a few hours, but I hope no more than that.” He looked up into the girl’s worried frowns. “Now run home and confess to your nurse or whoever she is, what an idiot you’ve been. If I survive my own journey home, I’ll put out a search for your brother some time tomorrow. In the meantime, you’d best leave me in peace.”
“Will you really look for Pagan?” Alysson peered at him through the lengthening dark. “Will you promise?”
“Good God girl,” Ludovic sighed. “I’m not in the habit of having my word questioned by village brats, nor required to make promises regarding my behaviour. Nor, come to think of it, constantly being told I’m silly by someone who has just nearly killed me. I suggest you hurry off home before I become suitably arrogant again.”
Alysson giggled. “Then I’d better leave you my cloak. Otherwise you’ll freeze.”
Ludovic regarded her thin brown rags with amusement. “Very chivalrous,” he said. “But I am wearing three layers of thickly padded materials, including a fully fur lined coat. Now stop hovering over me and go away before I spew in your lap.”
He listened to the patter of her feet through the damp mulch, the scurry of pebbles and the sound of her hurried breathing as she scrambled down the hillside and was gone. Then he did vomit, and was unable to move away from the smell of it for some time. The cold wind blustered in, surrounding him and whining amongst the ancient stones. It occurred to Ludovic that he should have offered his own coat to the girl, but was thankful he had not thought of it. Eventually he managed to crawl deeper under the half shelter of the winding steps where the ground was harder but dryer, and the stink of his own regurgitations only a distant reminder.
The steps above his head were worn and many had crumbled, breaking into sudden holes and cracks, their dust spinning into a haze of grit as the wind gusted. The tower, missing its internal wall and retaining only a remnant of roof, was increasingly unsteady and where the hoar frost ate at the plaster between the stones, it continued to loosen, whispering of collapse. The clambering ivy further threatened its stability, but still standing after four hundred years, Ludovic assumed it would survive one more night and himself with it. He pulled the fur lining of his coat around him, attempting to ignore the drifting misery of pain. Then, for a little while, he slept.
Two women interrupted his dreams, floating, enticing, disturbing his rest. One, high browed and light haired, gazed with azure eyes and pale fluttering lashes. She was heavy breasted and white skinned, swirling satins and soft fox trimmings. She wore emerald earrings and a wedding ring which he had put on her finger himself, though it denoted her marriage to his brother. She smiled, simpering, and held out her small hand and led him to the heaped feathers of her bed.
But when he followed her, and stripping off his doublet climbed willingly between the bed curtains, he found there a small girl with a green eyed glare. Tiny breasted and smelling of unwashed beggary, she pushed back great waxy coils of dark hair and curled, sobbing, against the pillows. Her lashes were long and black and sparkled with tears like a necklace of diamonds. He leaned over her but she raised a knife and thrust it into his arm. He woke to sudden alarm, looked for the girl, but knew he was alone.
He could see nothing but between the huge shadows of night crept a whisper, as insistent as the wind.
The cold intensified, like a sudden plunge through ice. The whisper clarified. “Why?” it begged, sibilant and perplexed. “Why?” The sound circled, repeated and repeating. It oozed like liquid amongst the stones. Its echo trailed into hidden corners, hesitant and fearful. Then, between opening fringes of deepest shadow, a tiny dome of light moved and came forward. No flickering torch but a blue pennant, star like, it travelled slowly, disembodied and unsupported, using neither staircase nor bracket nor plinth, floating first to the open heights of the central tower and then down again, resting at a short distance from his face. Ludovic stared, quite unable to move.
“Why?” the light whi
spered.
He watched the encircling exploration, an enchanted thing searching and discovering no rest. It rose again, sweeping up then down, and once more finding him, hovered before his gaze. Ludovic reached out his arm, answering softly, even while not believing what he saw. “What are you? What are you asking?” His finger touched only air, but the cold burned.
The light swung away, swooping as if winged, fast now, hurtling into sudden invisibility. Ludovic stared upwards into unrelenting dark.
“Why me? Who am I? Who are you?” whispered the breeze from above. For a moment the night was unchallenged. Then the light returned abruptly. A minute hollowness filled with luminosity, a blue aura and a tiny bitter glow; the light then grew and took strength. From the point of a star, it blazed into the star itself.
Ludovic said, his own whisper no louder than the question he answered and his own pains forgotten, “I don’t know who or what you are. Where are you from?”
“Why did it happen?” moaned the star. “How have I lost myself?”
The light went out. Blackness moved in, becoming absolute. The cold became the normal chill of a starkly rimed night. The glimpses of sky remained starless. There was no moon, no sheen of reflection nor entering glow of anticipated dawn. The silence was as complete as the dark. Ludovic sighed. His breath curled in damp wisps before him and he breathed its warmth back into himself, but saw nothing. He leaned back, shivering. He was unused to the sensation of fear, but the flying lantern had been unnatural and the whisper surely unholy.
He did not sleep again, and kept his eyes open. Nothing happened. He did not know the passage of time, but when he heard a scuffle and the rattle of pebbles, he jumped as though struck. The girl whispered, but a good deal louder than the bewitching murmur. “What’s the matter? Are you all right?”
Sumerford's Autumn Page 5