The Traitor's Daughter

by Munday, April

  Edmund shook his head. “No, he is waiting for the healer. I promised to try and bring this one.”

  “He must be good,” said the man. Alais stepped back and lowered her face as he tried to look at her more carefully.

  “I will need plenty of clean, hot water,” she said as gruffly as she could, “and clean cloths.”

  “Are you sure he is experienced?” asked the man doubtfully. “He sounds as if his voice has scarce broken.” Alais looked up in time to see the panic cross Edmund’s face.

  “Hugh would have no other. We should go up to him, Thomas.”

  Thomas turned and led them upstairs. Alais looked around to see what the house was like. She wanted to gauge the kind of care Hugh might have received here and what she would have available to care for him. It was warm and well-lit, so there was wealth. The floors and walls were clean, so the merchant’s wife was a capable housekeeper.

  “Although he did not want it,” Thomas was saying, “we sent for a physician.”

  “You did well,” Edmund encouraged him.

  Thomas snorted. “He was a waste of money. He said only that Hugh would die. In my house! I sent him away again and had Edwina clean him up. Hugh said his own physician would heal him.” He lowered his voice, but Alais could still hear him.

  “Are you sure this boy is any good?”

  “If Alfred cannot cure him, no one can,” said Edmund confidently. Alais wondered what she had done to make Edmund believe in her so absolutely. Just a few hours ago he had been certain that Hugh would die, as she had been. She had not done very much at Hill for the townspeople and Edmund had not seen it, anyway. Perhaps it was Hugh’s own confidence that inspired him.

  “We had a priest to him, as well,” said Thomas as he stepped forward to open the door, leaving Alais standing alone with Edmund.

  “Love,” muttered Edmund, apparently to himself, “is more powerful than any medicine.”

  “Let us pray it is so,” she said, equally quietly. “I fear it is too late for anything else to do him any good.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Thomas opened the door onto a small room. Alais was shaking as she wondered what she might find on the other side of the door to the bedchamber. None of the images she considered gave her any comfort. They followed Thomas into the room. There were two small beds and on one of them lay Hugh. His breath was coming in wheezing gasps and the face that he turned towards the open door was covered in sweat and wracked with pain. Alais caught her breath, but managed to keep her emotions from her face. A healer could not show love for a patient.

  The young woman who was sitting by the bed stood as they entered.

  “Oh, Edmund, thank goodness you are here. Is that the physician?” She looked from Edmund to Alais and her face became confused. Alais did not want to lower her face; she needed to see Hugh, to reassure herself that he was still alive.

  “Alfred?” whispered Hugh, just loud enough for Alais to hear.

  “Yes, my lord.” Alais managed to stop herself rushing to his side and stood by the door as the woman came to her. “You are very young,” she said with a frown

  “Everyone says that,” said Edmund, hastily. “Thank you, Edwina.” He held the door open so that she could leave. Edwina seemed affronted at being removed from the room with so little ceremony, but she smiled as Edmund leaned down and gently kissed her forehead. “Thank you, I know you have taken good care of our brother. Alfred can take over now.”

  Even before Edmund had closed the door Alais had crossed the room to Hugh and placed her hand on his forehead. He was very hot; the fever was already very advanced. This was what she had feared.

  “You should not have come,” croaked Hugh.

  She looked down into his red-rimmed eyes and saw that his pain did not come just from the wound.

  “The servants will not be ready for us to leave until tomorrow. I can dress your wound and make you comfortable before then.” She spoke calmly and clearly so that he would not know how frightened she was.

  “Edmund thinks I will be dead before then.”

  “Edmund expected to find you dead when he got back,” grunted Edmund from the door. Alais turned to smile at him and was surprised when he smiled back.

  Alais smoothed Hugh’s forehead. “There is much to do before we leave. Do you know if you have other wounds?”

  Hugh tried to shake his head, but stopped with a grimace of pain.

  “I will have to look. I am afraid it will hurt.”

  “Not as much as knowing that you are my father’s bride and not mine.” His voice was bitter and she saw that he spoke the truth.

  Alais felt tears prick her eyes. She wondered if she could tell him now that she loved him. He was on his deathbed. Surely it could not hurt. She did not worry that Edmund would betray her or that she would betray herself. Surely if it gave Hugh some comfort before he died it would do no harm. Yet she found she could not break her vow to his father, not even to comfort the man she loved as he died. She watched the hope fade from Hugh’s eyes as she failed to speak.

  “Edwina will bring the water soon. Edmund and I will undress you and wash you and then I will deal with any wounds that I find. Do you understand?”

  He licked his lips. “Yes.”

  There was a knock on the door and Edwina brought in some water and some cloths. “Do you need anything more?” Her earlier curiosity forgotten, she seemed disposed only to be helpful.

  “A mug of small beer, if you please.” Alais turned to Edwina. “I must give him something to make him sleep so that he can get through the pain and he will not taste it in the beer.” Edmund’s sister nodded and left.

  “Do not make me sleep,” Hugh begged. “If I am to die, I want to be awake all the time I am with you.”

  Alais stroked his face and he smiled. “You will be in great pain.” She could not imagine how bad, but he was a soldier, he must have seen men wounded in battle. He must know how much he would suffer and that he would not survive.

  “Let me be awake.” She closed her eyes, how could she grant his request? How could she let the man she loved go through such pain simply so that he could be aware of her? A memory nudged at her and she saw her mother lying on a strange bed in a stranger’s house. Lady Eleanor had not given in to the pain, either. She had wanted to be with her daughter in her last few moments on earth. Alais could not deny Hugh the same comfort.

  “Very well,” she sighed.

  Edwina came back with the beer, then Alais set about undressing Hugh. His tunic and undershirt were easy enough. She could support him so that he did not have to move too much. There was already a lot of blood seeping through his clothes, despite the covering that Edwina had put over the wound. The hose were going to be difficult to remove without causing him a lot of pain. Since he would not take a sleeping draught, she must think of some other way.

  “Edmund,” she called quietly. He came to stand by the bed. “When I give you the sign I want you to pull his hose off. Be as quick as possible or the pain will kill him.”

  “What sign?”

  “You will know.”

  Edmund pulled the blankets down to the foot of the bed and untied the ties at the top of Hugh’s hose. Alais waited until Edmund indicated that he was ready, then she leaned over and kissed Hugh full on his mouth. Alais knew the moment when Edmund had carried out her command. Hugh’s body convulsed beneath her, but still she kissed him. His initial surprise had given way to pleasure and he returned the kiss with all the strength he had left. She continued the kiss until Hugh had to gasp for air, then she pulled away. Hugh was even paler than he had been before and as his breath rasped painfully she wondered whether she had killed him anyway.

  “My lady?” Edmund did not look as scandalised as she had expected.

  Alais took a deep breath, horrified that she had enjoyed kissing a dead man. Apart from her husband’s betrothal kiss, she had never kissed a man before. Despite his weakness, Hugh had taken control and her lips burned
with his passion. She had dreamed so often of kissing him, but the reality had astounded her. She wondered what it would be like to have kissed him when he was well and felt her whole body shiver at the thought.

  “My lady?” asked Edmund, again. She must control herself. Hugh’s life depended on her mastering her passions. Reminding herself that Edmund would not betray her, she turned to face him. She was sure he would be able to see her passion.

  “That was well done, my lady,” he smiled.

  “I agree,” said Hugh faintly.

  Alais squeezed his hand. “Now we wash him, gently, and look for any more wounds. I am afraid I stole some candles from the palace. Could you get them from the bag?” Could that calm and orderly woman be her? She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her lips burning from the touch of Hugh’s lips. She wanted to give in to her passion and kiss him again, but if she did so, Hugh would die. If she mastered herself, there was a chance he might live. She checked herself. The wound was too old and too deep; he must surely die.

  Alais started to wash Hugh’s body while Edmund lit the candles. By their light she could see a number of small scratches and bruises. They would be easy to deal with. There was nothing she could do to save Hugh from the pain when Edmund turned him so that she could look at his back. He screamed and Alais stroked his hair as she washed and examined him as quickly as she could. She put the salve on the small wounds on his back then Edmund turned him again. This time Hugh passed out with the pain. Alais was glad for it. She had cleaned out the deep wound in his side, sewn it up and placed a hot poultice on it before he regained consciousness. She was surprised at his strength. He should not have lived through the journey to Southwark from Ewell. A day later he should have been dead. Instead, he clung to life.

  Once Alais was satisfied that Hugh was comfortable, she grudgingly turned her attention to Edmund, despite his own protestations that she remain with Hugh. As he had indicated, his wound was not serious, but he must have been in great pain. He assured her that he had no other wounds, but she suspected that he lied. She hoped that they were minor, since he would not suffer her to examine him in the way that she had Hugh. Again, she cleaned the wound and administered a poultice, then she sent him to rest on the other bed while she sat with Hugh who was now conscious again.

  His eyes stayed on hers, turning away only to hide his pain from her.

  “I am glad you came,” he said, his voice cracking with the effort. She soaked a rag with the small beer and put it in his mouth so that he could suck the moisture from it.

  “You should be resting, not talking.”

  “It matters not. I shall soon be dead and I would rather talk with you than lie in silence.”

  Alais wiped the sweat from his face with a damp cloth. “I am sorry that I sent you to your death,” she said despairingly.

  “Not you, sweet Alais. That was my brother.” He drew in a slow, deep breath that she thought must break him in half from the pain on his face. He lifted his hand from the blanket and she took it in her own. He smiled. “You see? It is worth dying if you can touch me like this.”

  “My lord, it is the fever that makes you ramble so.” She tried to keep her face from showing her own distress at seeing him like this. It must soon be over and she hoped it would be quick, to spare him the pain, but she also hoped it would be slow so that they could share in this new intimacy.

  “I do not ramble yet and you called me by name before.”

  “Since you desire it so, I shall continue.”

  He was silent for a moment as another wave of pain swept through him.

  “I will not be able to fight it for much longer.” She was sure he was paler than he had been when she had entered the room.

  “It is a miracle you still live.” This much was true and she was glad for it. She would not have liked him to die far from her in Ewell with just Edmund for company, although she was sure that Edmund would have preferred it that way.

  “I did not want to die without seeing you. Edmund would have left me at Ewell to bring you, but I knew you would not get there in time.” This was not what she had expected. Edmund would have risked Hugh dying alone to fetch her! Nothing that he had said or done had indicated that he could be that selfless.

  This time Hugh gasped with the pain and she smoothed his forehead with her other hand, continuing to hold his hand tightly.

  “You will have much trouble because of this.”

  “I will have much trouble anyway,” she replied resignedly.

  “I should have told you to run away that day in Southampton.” His breathing was becoming more ragged and she had to lean closer to hear what he was saying.

  “I could not. I am promised. I cannot break my word.”`

  His eyelids fluttered as he slipped into unconsciousness. “I love you Alais.”

  Alais held onto his hand for a long time, hoping that he might wake, but now the fever gripped him and shook him.

  These were the darkest hours for Alais. She felt no need to keep up the pretence of calm in front of Edmund and gave way to her tears. She was dimly aware of Edmund pacing the room and was grateful that he did not try to offer her comfort; there could be none, for either of them. Alais kept the room dark, blowing out the candles, so that the room was lit only by the light of the small fire. There was no need for her to see very much; she could feel how hot Hugh was and hear the weakening voice that called out in his fever. Sometimes he called out her name, at others he begged Edmund to fetch her. Always she was would respond with a cool hand to his forehead and a soft whisper, “I am here.” Sometimes he struggled with her as if he wanted to rise from the bed and she was afraid that he would break the stitches that held his flesh together. She refrained from examining them too often; even removing the poultice to examine the wound would pull on it and make it worse.

  Alais listened to his breathing grow more and more ragged, then shallower. At every moment she thought he must die, but still he lived. He had strength beyond her imagining, but that could only make the last few hours more terrible. Fortunately, Hugh would be unconscious now until he died. All he had left her with were a few memories and the knowledge that he had loved her. She felt richer than the king himself. Nothing could ever be worth more to her than his love.

  Edwina came back and invited them to eat with the family, but Edmund went down and returned with hot food for them both. Alais refused it. “You must eat,” he said, “we will be busy tomorrow.” He smiled and then she remembered.

  “I do not have to fight the French,” she replied, “but you are right. A full stomach is better than an empty one.”

  The food was good and Alais felt its warmth spread through her, strengthening her for the trial to come.

  She had no idea how late it was when Edmund reminded her that they should return to the palace. “We can stay until morning,” she protested. She could not leave Hugh to die alone now. It would not be much longer. However strong he was, and he was very strong, he would be dead in a few hours. She could give him that much, even if she could not tell him that she loved him.

  “They will have missed you,” said Edmund patiently and she wondered what he was feeling. He had said little since they had arrived here, which was usual for him, but she knew that he loved Hugh and she did not understand how he could be so calm at the prospect of losing him.

  “I will tell them that I got lost in the palace, returned to my bed late and rose early to prepare for the journey,” Alais pleaded.

  Edmund needed little persuading. “Then you must rest,” he said, indicating the other bed. She knew then how much he, too, wanted to stay with Hugh. His own trouble with Sir William would be great when they finally returned to Liss. She considered his suggestion for a moment. It would make no difference to Hugh, he could not be aware of who was holding his hand, or even that someone was holding it at all and she knew that when he thought he was not being observed Edmund would take Hugh’s hand in his own. It was that image that decided he
r. Edmund also loved Hugh and she would not deprive him of this last vigil.

  “And you?” she asked, standing up to show that she was going to take his advice.

  “I will sit with him. Do not worry. I will wake you if there is any change.” She showed him how to bathe Hugh’s face and body so that he was kept cool and how to make a poultice so that he could change it in the night. Then she removed her tunic and lay down in the empty bed. She did not expect to sleep, how could she with Hugh dying six feet away from her? But the worry of the last few days had exhausted her and she slept quickly and dreamed uneasy dreams of finding Hugh dead and burying him, for she knew he must be dead by morning.

  Edmund woke her, shaking her shoulder gently. It was still dark, but she knew that many hours had passed. “My lady, we must leave.”

  “Hugh!” she turned and looked at the bed where he lay. The blanket over his body was rising and falling as he drew shallow, irregular breaths. “He still lives,” she whispered, wonderingly.

  “Yes,” whispered Edmund, smiling. “You are a better healer than you knew.”

  “Then I will not leave him.”

  Edmund was startled, “But, my lady…”

  “While he still lives, I will not leave,” she said, firmly, getting out of the bed. “You can leave,” she said pointedly, “but I will not.” Edmund simply grunted, as she had known he would. He did not leave.

  “There is food and drink on the table,” he said, taking her place in the bed.

  “And your own wound?” she asked softly.

  “I am not in pain. Thank you.”

  Alais turned her head so that he could not see her smile. She had learned much about Edmund this past day and night and what she had learned she liked. Before she ate, she examined Hugh. He was still very hot, but was now still and quiet. The fever was in its final stages. Lifting the poultice from the wound, she looked at it carefully. It looked better than she could have hoped. She broke her fast and then began the task of washing Hugh and keeping him cool and warm at the same time. She quickly realised that she should have asked Edmund to do this before he slept, but once she had started, she had to finish. If Hugh lived, he would not like to know that she had done this for him.