The Traitor's Daughter

by Munday, April

“It would grieve me greatly.”

  Hugh turned on his heel and left the room.

  For some time Alais stared at the door that Hugh had slammed behind him. Neither Edmund nor Hilda said anything. Suddenly Edmund jumped up and ran after Hugh. Alais felt deliriously happy, but at the same time full of foreboding. Surely Hugh had just told her that he loved her, or at least considered her happiness above his own, but she had equally surely sent him to his death. She cursed herself for a fool for not thinking through what might happen. All the while she had thought so much about seeing Hugh that she had not considered the possibilities. She had expected to find Sir William here and had assumed that he would send soldiers to arrest the mercenaries. Alais had not expected that Hugh would have to undertake another journey to warn his father and fight the mercenaries himself. She had not thought beyond arriving here and seeing Hugh again. She had not even really considered what her husband might think of his wife turning up at court disguised as a man and with her hair cut off.

  Now she did think about it, her blood ran cold. Her hair would not grow again before she met her husband and he would have to know what she had done. All the humiliations he had heaped on her so far would be as nothing compared to the humiliation she had brought on herself. There was not even the guarantee that Hugh would be safe. He could die and all this would have been for nothing.

  “My lady?” Hilda was standing pointing at her bag.

  “Yes?”

  “We will not have long. I can help you change now and show you somewhere to sleep.”

  “Thank you, Hilda was it? I do not need help to change, but if you could stay by the door…”

  Hilda went out into the passage and Alais changed into the gown she had brought with her. It was one that she had made from the cloth that Hugh had sent her before Christmas. She arranged her veil as loosely as she could. She called Hilda back in and the servant indicated that what she had done would be acceptable for the moment. Hilda took Alais’ bag and they started towards the room where she was to ‘disappear’.

  Hugh and Edmund came up to them just as Hilda closed the door to Hugh’s bedchamber.

  “My lady,” Hugh bowed slightly and Alais remembered that she, too, must use her court manners. She curtsied in reply, noting, with relief, that he had regained control of himself. “I have spoken to Lord Neville about your news and he wishes to discuss it with you himself.”

  The leader of the regency council! Of course, Hugh could not just leave court; he would need permission from the man who stood in the king’s place.

  “He does not believe me, does he, because I am my father’s daughter?”

  Hugh smiled. “You are correct that he does not believe your story, but only because he thinks it impossible for a woman to understand an overheard conversation in Latin. He thinks that you lie there and so the rest of your story must be a falsehood.”

  “Do you still believe me?”

  Hugh smiled and bowed, “You are a remarkable woman, Lady Alais and I do not doubt anything you say. I believe you are capable of understanding any language that can be spoken.”

  Alais was content. She did not care what Lord Neville thought of her; she valued only Hugh’s opinion.

  Lord Neville’s office was small and dark, like the man himself.

  “So,” he said, as Alais and Hugh entered, “this is the woman who makes up tales about murder and runs around the countryside alone like a wild thing in the middle of winter.”

  “No,” said Hugh stiffly, colouring slightly, “this is Lady Alais de Montjoye, my father’s betrothed wife.”

  “Does your husband know that you travel unescorted?” Lord Neville turned his piercing gaze on Alais. Before she replied, she reminded herself that the king had not left a fool to look after his kingdom.

  “He would not be surprised to hear of it, my lord, nor would he think any the less of me for it.”

  Alais was surprised at her boldness, but Lord Neville only smiled.

  “Come here and read this.” He held out a book towards her. Alais stepped forward and took it from his hand. It was already open and she read from where he indicated.

  “Now, translate.”

  Again, she did as she was asked.

  Neville plucked at his lips with his fingers. “How do you come by your knowledge of Latin?”

  “My tutor is my uncle. He is a priest and was educated for high office. When my father was executed he fell from favour and came to live with us at Leigh. I attended all my brothers’ lessons. They did not care for Latin, but I did and my uncle encouraged my interest. He enjoyed having someone to practise on.”

  Neville looked at her shrewdly. “Very well, I will accept your story. Hugh, I will let you take some men to see what you can do for your father.”

  “And Lady Alais?”

  “You can hardly take her with you! She shall stay here, but quietly. I do not want the king to hear that I have allowed Jean de Montjoye’s daughter into his palace.”

  “My father might have betrayed the king’s father…” Alais swallowed deeply, it still hurt to think of her father as a traitor, “But two of my brothers died fighting with the king in the north and I have ever been loyal to him.”

  Neville’s face darkened. “It will take more than words to prove your loyalty. Only Mortimer was a greater traitor than your father. You would do well to remember that.”

  “Have I not risked my life to save that of the king’s most loyal servant - my husband?” she protested.

  “Hugh tells me that you were in Southampton at the time of the French attack.”

  “That is correct.” Alais was confused by his change of tack.

  “And he saved your life.”

  “Yes.” Now she understood.

  “Are you not simply repaying that debt?”

  Alais smiled. “There you have me, my lord. I do not know. Certainly I am grateful to Sir Hugh for saving my life and I would not want to see him implicated in a crime that is not his. And I certainly do not seek to save my husband simply because he is the king’s servant.” She hoped that Lord Neville would not press her further about her motives. She could not lie. Even Hugh could not know that he had been the only reason that she had left Liss.

  Neville returned to his paper-strewn table. “Very well. We will say for now simply that your loyalty to the king is not taken for granted.”

  He waved them away. Alais curtsied and she and Hugh left the room.

  Hugh was escorting Alais to the room that Lord Neville had indicated she should sleep in. They were alone.

  “My lord…” It was a difficult subject to broach, but Alais did not think she would have another opportunity. “I have been thinking about your brother, about his death.”

  “Geoffrey?” Hugh stopped and she turned to look at him. He had paled. She took a step towards him.

  “Yes,” she said, uncertainly, “I wondered whether Stephen might not be responsible for his death. Not directly,” she added, “but with mercenaries as he is doing now.”

  “No, Stephen was not responsible for his death.”

  “How can you be so sure? My lord?” She reached out and took Hugh’s hand, for he looked as if he might faint. Hugh squeezed it and released it, then straightened to his full height.

  “I tell you because it is wrong for you to think worse of Stephen than he deserves. I know that he did not kill Geoffrey… because I did.”

  Alais gasped and backed away. Seeing the look of deep sorrow on his face, she stepped back and took his hand again, but he pulled it from her grasp.

  “Why?” It came out as a horrified whisper. She swallowed, “You are not base and desirous of land like Stephen.” Stupid, she thought. Of course Hugh would not kill for land or wealth of any kind.

  “There are some things it is better for you not to know.”

  “And there are some burdens it is better for a man not to bear alone.” Alais knew she had no right to make such an offer to a man who was not her husband, but she lo
ved him and would do all she could to lessen his pain.

  “You think I had good reason, then, and you will not change your opinion of me when you know it?”

  “You are a good man, Hugh. It would take a great deal to make me change my mind about you.”

  “Killing my brother is no small thing.”

  Alais shook her head. “What did he do to make you kill him?” she persisted.

  Hugh took a step closer to her. “Alais, I value your opinion of me above all else. I would not see you lose the trust you have in me, which you must when you know what I did.”

  Alais reached up and laid a hand on his cheek. “Hugh, Stephen is trying to kill you, yet you cared enough for his reputation to own that you killed Geoffrey. If you care for Stephen’s reputation, how much more must you have cared for Geoffrey’s life.”

  Hugh’s eyes bored into her as he tried to decide whether or not to tell her. He seemed to sag a little; she thought he even rested his cheek in her palm, briefly. Then his lips curved in a small, unhappy smile and she knew he was going to tell her. “Geoffrey was a cruel man. Not, like Stephen, with words. He was not that clever. He used beatings and force. Many times I heard Elizabeth screaming and crying from their bedchamber. I fought him often over it, but he would not stop and he was her husband. It was not really my right to interfere. I know he was cruel to others, but never when I was there to see.” He paused and closed his eyes, as if to remind himself of what had happened. Then he moistened his lips and opened his eyes. “One day, shortly after I returned from France, I was working at the high field. When I got back to the house I realised that I had dropped my knife up there. It was still light, so I went back to find it alone. Everyone thought Geoffrey was drinking and whoring in Petersfield. I do not know where he had been, or what he had been doing. I know only that he was in the field when I got there, with a boy.” He swallowed. “You do not need to know what he was doing to the boy, but the boy was screaming. He was...he was very young.”

  “No,” agreed Alais, stroking his cheek. “I do not need to know.”

  “I pulled him off the boy and sent the child on his way. Then I challenged him to mortal combat. He had his dagger and I had mine and I won.”

  The silence hung heavily between them. There was so much she did not understand, but she knew she had to choose her questions carefully, or he would not answer her. “Why did you tell no one? There was no shame there.”

  “He did not want to fight, but I forced him to. It was not a fair challenge.”

  “If you did not cheat, and I know you did not, it was a fair challenge.”

  Hugh said nothing. She closed her eyes. She did not know what Geoffrey had been doing, but that must be where Hugh’s shame lay. “But why did you take off his clothes?” she asked in a last attempt to understand what Hugh had done.

  Hugh took her hand and brought her palm to his lips and dropped a gentle kiss into it. Then he started to walk away from her. “He was already naked. I just took them to confuse everyone.”

  Alais hurried after him. He had been correct; there were some things she was better off not knowing.

  Hilda came to Alais in the morning to dress her before the other women rose. She contrived something with some pieces of rag in Alais’ hair to make it look more full beneath her veil, but Alais did not feel right. She had been more comfortable in Hugh’s clothes than she was now.

  Hilda led her to the hall where she joined Hugh. He had a determined look on his face as she walked across the hall to join him. He smiled when he saw her and shared his bread with her.

  “How many men do you take, my lord?” They both knew that yesterday’s intimacy could not continue here, probably should not continue at all.

  “Ten.”

  “I pray that Stephen sends fewer.”

  “Mercenaries are not cheap and Stephen’s wife spends his money easily.”

  “But he can promise money from his inheritance.” She did not want Hugh to underestimate the danger that waited for him.

  “Do not worry, my lady, mercenaries do not fight for a promise of money. Stephen will have to pay them before they go to work for him.”

  “Then I hope he does not have funds that you do not know about.” She was doubtful that Hugh truly understood the extent of Stephen’s resources. Since he cared little for wealth himself, except where he had practical and legitimate need of it, he had had no cause to consider what Stephen and Richard might have available between them. Alais had noted their wives’ costly jewellery which could be sacrificed to pay the mercenaries. Richard gambled heavily and lost, but it was possible that Stephen gambled wisely and won.

  Hugh considered, then smiled at her sadly. “I must go to my father no matter how many mercenaries there may be.” She had been wrong; Hugh had not underestimated Stephen at all. Alais took no comfort from the knowledge, except to be grateful that he would be better prepared for what he might meet in Ewell.

  “I understand. Please come back.”

  “That is my intention.” Alais was satisfied. He was not saying it to placate her; he truly intended to return to her.

  Edmund approached. He bowed to Alais and turned to Hugh. “It is time to leave.”

  “Then I must bid you farewell, my lady.”

  They both stood and Hugh took her hand. Bowing low over it, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. Alais found she could say nothing as both men turned away and left the hall.

  Hilda showed Alais around the palace. Apart from the cathedral in Winchester, it was the largest building she had ever seen. Concerned that she could get lost in the various passages and halls, she was determined to understand its layout as quickly as possible. She would only be here for a few days and she had to keep out of the way as much as possible. Not that anyone here would recognise her. Few of her father’s old friends had visited them recently and those that had had little interest in being at court while the king was abroad.

  Alais already missed Hugh and he would be gone for days. This was almost worse than Liss. She knew no one here and could know no one, since she was not supposed to be here. Although she wondered what would happen if her husband came here instead of going to Ewell as planned. Would she still be the anonymous woman haunting the palace passages or would she be acknowledged as his wife?

  “What will I do all day?” she asked Hilda as they returned to the hall for the midday meal.

  “I do not know, my lady. My son told me only that you have to keep out of the way.” She smiled fondly at the thought of him.

  “Edmund is your son?” Alais could not hide her shock. She had thought that Edmund had called her mother as a term of respect. This could not be Edmund’s mother, her husband’s mistress. Alais considered that Edmund’s mother must have been about thirteen or fourteen when she first went into Sir William’s bed, so she would now be in her mid-thirties. But Hilda was old, too old, surely. The thin and wispy hair that escaped from her veil was white. She limped slightly and an old scar closed her left eye.

  “Yes. He is a good son.” Then she saw Alais’ expression. “You think I am too old and ugly to have been in my lord’s bed?”

  Alais did not bother to deny it. “I was once young and beautiful. I was twelve when first he took me and not quite thirteen when I bore him Edmund. I hoped he would have tired of me while I was with child, but he took me back and I bore him Edwina a year later. My next child was stillborn and he beat me, accusing me of killing the child so that his people would think him impotent and lose their respect for him. He broke my leg and blinded me. He did not want me after that.”

  Her outspokenness shocked Alais, then she realised that she should be scared at what the other woman had said.

  “How do you come to be here?”

  “Sir William brought me with some of his other servants. He likes the way I look after him.” Now her bitterness showed and Alais wondered that she and Edmund could bear to be anywhere near Sir William. No wonder Edmund spoke so little, he must be constantly
struggling to control himself. Alais was getting a clearer picture of her husband. He must enjoy the humiliation that his actions caused to Hilda and their son. It was a constant reminder of the power that he had over them.

  “Do you always travel with him?”

  Hilda lowered her eyes. “Yes, my lady.”

  Alais wondered whether, even now and disfigured and disabled as she was, Hilda still shared her lord’s bed at all. She wondered who was his more permanent bedfellow. She looked around the hall. Hilda followed her glance. “Rowena, my lady.” She inclined her head towards a young redheaded girl who crossed the hall at her signal and stood before Alais.

  “This is Rowena, my lady,” she said as the girl came to a halt before Alais. “She will look after you at meal times.”

  “You are also from Liss?” asked Alais uncertainly.

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Curtsey, girl,” hissed Hilda.

  Sullenly, the girl obeyed. This, then, was the girl her husband had brought to warm his bed. Alais looked her up and down. The girl looked to be about thirteen. She was beautiful, but slovenly. Alais knew that she should pity her, but found herself angered instead.

  “Hilda,” she said quietly, “I would not have it thought that my husband could not dress his servants properly. I would have you ensure that she washes her clothes and her person before I see her again.”

  The girl scowled and would have spoken, but Hilda said quietly, “Go and wash, girl. I will serve Lady Alais.”

  “But…”

  “Go, now.”

  The girl turned and left, her anger and hatred obvious in every step.

  Alais thought that she saw a small smile twitch on Hilda’s lips.

  “How did she get into such bad habits?”

  “She is a lazy girl. She…my lady…” Hilda shuffled uncomfortably.

  “She chose what she thought was an easier way,” suggested Alais.

  “Yes, my lady. Although I doubt she will think so for much longer.” Hilda’s expression became grim again.

  “I am sorry for that,” said Alais, her anger gone as soon as it had arrived. Hilda looked surprised. “I will serve you,” she said and moved towards the kitchens.