“But Alais will be safe.” This was all that was important, even Edmund must see that.
“Lady Alais might think it a high price to pay for her safety,” Edmund said carefully.
“You would rather I let him rape her and kill her?”
“No, but your death will distress her greatly.”
“Then she will be distressed, but she will be alive.”
Alais thought she had been afraid when she had fled from St Michael’s, but, she discovered, that had not been real fear. Now she knew fear for her life and she knew pain. Still dizzy from Sir William’s blow, she could feel her lip swelling and taste the blood in her mouth. Her one consolation was that Hugh was safe. What she feared more than her own death was that he would return. Despite what everyone had told her, she had not quite believed all the tales about Sir William. She had assumed that she could survive being married to him by giving way to him. This had been a mistake. Sir William was capable of being what she had been told he was. Now she had the proof, she felt that she had been stupid not to go with Hugh. He had known what his father would do and had tried to persuade her to follow another path. She had let him go and he did not know that she loved him. And now her only hope could be that he would not come back.
Alais wasted some time trying to find a way out of the bedchamber, but quickly discovered that she was too large to squeeze through the tiny window and that the door was the only way of leaving the room. The door was locked and she was certain that a guard stood on the other side. She was condemned to wait in the room until Sir William came and killed her. She did not see how she could survive the night. The marriage would be consummated; Sir William would have whatever it was that he wanted and then he would kill her. It would not matter that she was a virgin. Surplus to requirements, there would no reason for her to remain alive.
She was equally convinced that Hugh would try to rescue her, but against a hall of armed men, she considered his chances of helping her slim. There seemed to be little that she could do until someone unlocked the door. At least she could do something about the pain in her face. She reached into her pouch for the ointment that would seal the wound on her lip. As she took the small pot from her pouch her hand brushed against her dagger. Sir William had not taken her seriously as an opponent and that would be his undoing. She had hoped it would not come to this, but Uncle Giles had taught her to protect her life and her virtue and she would do so, even if it meant her husband’s death. Words had sufficed to restrain Hugh, but his father would require a more violent course of action. Sir William had not even bothered to relieve her of the dagger that was in plain sight, let alone search her for the one that was hidden. She still had the hidden dagger that she always kept under her clothes. There would, of course, be no hope for her once she had killed Sir William, but she had always known that it must be the last resort. There was a chance that she could escape and find Hugh once she had killed his father, but she doubted it. It was far more likely that she would be discovered and hanged. If it were not for Hugh, she did not think she would mind, apart from the injustice. In the eyes of everyone else she would be a murderer; in her own eyes killing Sir William would only be self-defence.
Alais wondered if she was capable of killing a man. She had practised with the dagger and knew that she was capable physically. Sir William was a trained soldier and he was much bigger than her, but he would not be expecting her to defend herself. She knew exactly where to strike him to kill him immediately. No, that part would be easy, well, fairly easy. What worried her was whether she could take a life, even the life of someone as wicked as Sir William.
Some considerable time had passed before she heard the key turn in the lock. She stood up from the chair where she had been sitting, half dozing, half alert. Making sure that her hands were in plain sight and away from her dagger she moved to the bed, which she thought would be her best position in the room. A man stepped into the room and she gasped. She had been expecting Sir William, but the man who now presented himself to her was Stephen. He smiled at her and she realised that somehow she had suddenly become part of his plot against his father.
“Well, stepmother,” he said, “how timely has been your arrival. I assumed that Hugh still lived and that you were with him, so I could still give him the blame for my father’s death. But now he has shown his desire for you in front of the whole hall. Now my father will be dead and the world will assume it was my brother, consumed by jealousy. My father swore to kill you in front of witnesses. In the morning, everyone will know that he found you not to be a virgin and that Hugh killed him out of revenge.”
“Do not be stupid.” She kept her eye on the bloody dagger in his hand. He must have killed her guard. “The hall is full of armed men. No one will believe that Hugh got past them to kill his father.”
“That would be true, if Hugh were alone,” smiled Stephen, innocently, “but he will be accompanied by the mercenaries he hired to kill my father.”
Now Alais knew despair. If Hugh came for her he would be killed, if he did not come for her he would be hanged for his father’s murder. Either way they would both die.
“Do you intend to kill me now?” she asked and hated herself for the weakness in her voice.
Stephen’s expression grew grim. “I am afraid, my lady, that you can serve my immediate purpose better alive. My plan has had to change”
Suddenly he was behind her and the knife was at her throat. His action brought her back to her senses. While she lived there was still hope, both for her and for Hugh. Hugh had taken on a French invasion force and won. Like his father, Stephen did not seem to expect resistance from a woman. Her arms were free and she could reach her dagger when the time was right. Stephen dragged her along the passage and to the top of the stairs.
Alais heard the fighting before she saw it, the clash of blade on blade, the cries of wounded men and voices encouraging the survivors on. How many men were fighting, she wondered. Sir William was rallying his men at one end of the room. What she finally saw was chaos. There seemed no order to the way the men moved across the room. It was almost impossible to tell friend from enemy. The blood was the next thing that struck her. The hall seemed to be full of blood slowly soaking into the dirty rushes on the floor. Finally the smell hit her and she gagged, almost catching her neck on Stephen’s knife.
“Careful, my lady. I need you alive for a moment longer.” He pulled her straighter and took a tighter grip on his dagger.
She looked for Hugh; surely he was here, Stephen would have killed her already if he was not. His height should make him the easiest man in the room to find. Because she could not see him, she thought he must be injured or dead. Either way, there could be no hope for her.
Chapter Eighteen
Hugh and Edmund had discovered all the hidden ways in and out of the manor house as small boys. Hugh’s only fear was that the one he intended to use would be locked. They left the horses on the outskirts of the village and walked up to the house, hidden by the moonless night. Not only was the door unlocked, it was open. “Stephen!” breathed Hugh into Edmund’s ear. “He must be trying again tonight.” He drew his sword and slipped into the passage, Edmund following him closely. They walked quietly and soon heard the sounds of fighting from the hall. Unseen, they surveyed the situation for a moment before joining the fray. Sir William’s men were getting the worst of the fight. Although armed, they had not been prepared for a force that had come in through an open back door, instead of trying to enter the guarded front door. The mercenaries were fierce and reckless. Hugh remembered from his previous encounter with them that they were dangerous and unpredictable. Then he had only been fighting for his father and himself, now he was thinking of Alais. He could not let them harm her.
Hugh and Edmund were soon separated. Sir William was doing little to encourage his men, so Hugh began to shout orders at them in the hope that they could offer some sort of co-ordinated defence. Once Sir William noticed he was there and realised what
he was doing, he countermanded Hugh’s orders and Hugh found himself attacked by both mercenaries and his father’s men alike. He tried to fight his way to his father, but found himself manoeuvred to the bottom of the staircase away from the main fighting.
“Hugh!” shouted Stephen, loudly enough to be heard above the din of fighting. All eyes turned to him, except Hugh’s. Hugh heard him, but continued to fight. “I have Lady Alais,” screamed Stephen. Now Hugh did look, briefly, before returning to the man who had tried to slip his blade under Hugh’s guard while he was distracted. Hugh considered rushing up the stairs, releasing Alais and escaping, but quickly saw that that would not work. Instead, he had to continue to fight until Stephen was beaten or he himself was dead.
“Stop now, or I will kill her.”
Having despatched his opponent Hugh gave his brother his full attention.
“Harm her and you will die a painful death.” He spoke quietly, but he knew that Stephen had heard him.
Alais was looking around the hall. Suddenly she seemed to see what she was looking for, just below her and she made a small sign with her hand, then turned her head towards Hugh. Hugh did not dare take his attention from Stephen, who had now moved forward so that only Alais’ heels remained on the step. She had only to lose her balance and she would fall to her death. Hugh was about to run up the stairs, even knowing he would fail in his attempt to reach her, when Alais smiled at him. He could not even cry out, as she suddenly twisted her body away from Stephen. He knew she would die when she hit the hall’s floor. Stephen lost his balance and falling, pushed Alais from the step. Hugh watched her fall and cried out. Where was all that blood coming from? Had Stephen cut her throat as well as thrown her into the void? He wanted to turn away, but could not. He was frozen and everything else seemed frozen, except for Alais who fell for an eternity...and into Edmund’s waiting arms. They both fell under the weight of Stephen’s body, as Edmund had not managed to move out of the way in time. Hugh was beside them in a moment. “My lady?”
“I am unhurt.” Her voice was muffled, but she did not sound in pain.
“I too, am unhurt, since you ask,” complained Edmund, struggling to move from beneath Stephen’s body.
Hugh knelt down and pushed Stephen away. “He is dead,” he said as he closed his brother’s eyes. Then he saw what had killed Stephen. The dagger had gone in below his ribs. He pulled it out and looked up at Alais who was being held by Edmund. She was shaking. At his implied question she nodded. “The dagger is mine.”
Hugh got to his feet and handed Alais her dagger. He surveyed the hall. “Stephen is dead,” he shouted, but the fighting started up around them again. He and Edmund took up position either side of Alais.
“Give me a sword,” she said to Hugh.
“You cannot fight.”
“I cannot just stand here.”
Edmund had already retrieved a sword from a fallen man and given it to her. He pretended not to notice Hugh’s glare. Alais hefted it in her right hand. “Do not move away from us,” shouted Hugh, as a man attacked him. He knew he did not have to tell Edmund to protect her.
Hugh knew it would be more dangerous for him to watch what she was doing, but she could barely lift the sword and would be an easy prey for any of the men in the room. He watched her parry a blow that almost took the sword from her hand. She held onto it grimly and managed to prevent the man from killing her, until Edmund drove his own sword into the man’s side. Another man drove at her and she managed to strike at his chest, drawing blood. Surprised he stepped back onto Hugh’s waiting sword. She seemed to be wielding the sword easily enough. Perhaps they would all get out of this alive.
Hugh risked a quick look round the hall. Most of the men still standing seemed to be Sir William’s men and the mercenaries seemed to be few in number. It appeared that only he and Edmund were making any headway against the mercenaries. He returned his attention to Alais. She seemed to be tiring from the effort of holding the heavy blade. She lost her footing once in the blood that now covered the floor, but Hugh caught her and steadied her before she could come to any harm. Then it was all over. There was no one left to attack them. Besides Hugh and Edmund there were very few men on their feet. Alais’ sword fell with a loud clatter. Fearing that she would follow it, Hugh put a hand beneath her elbow to support her. “Are you injured?”
“No, are you?”
“No. Edmund?”
“A small cut. Nothing serious.”
Alais turned towards him. “Where?”
He held out his left arm where a deep cut was oozing blood. Alais took out her dagger and ripped off his sleeve and tied it around the wound. “That will stop you from bleeding to death before I can look at it properly.”
“What have you done here this night?” Alais jumped at the sound of Sir William’s voice and moved to stand behind Hugh even as he placed himself in front of her.
“I think I have saved your life,” said Hugh quietly.
“I think you and your whore have killed your brother.” Sir William picked his way across the hall towards them.
“No, father, it was Stephen who plotted your death, not me. I was fighting for you. Did you not notice?” Hugh managed to keep the exasperation from his voice only with great effort. He had twice saved his ungrateful father’s life.
“A ruse. You saw that your men would lose and hoped to convince me that you were fighting for me.”
“Father, you are wrong. I have twice saved you from Stephen’s plots at no small cost to myself.”
“Stephen tried to save me from you. That is why he went to fetch the whore to use her against you.”
“Call her a whore again and I will kill you.”
Hugh took a step forward and Alais and Edmund each took one of his arms to hold him back. Sir William took another step forward and stumbled. At first Hugh thought he had fallen over one of the bodies, then he realised that blood was seeping through his father’s tunic.
“He is injured,” Alais whispered.
“It seems I did not save you after all,” said Hugh, as his father fell to his knees.
“Stay with Edmund,” he muttered to Alais.
“I can help him.” Alais stepped forward and Sir William slumped forwards with a groan.
“Edmund, hold her.” Hugh ignored Alais, knowing that for once Edmund would obey him, and made his way carefully to where his father lay.
“You are dying,” he said to the older man, who was now gasping for breath.
“Leave me,” wheezed Sir William, who struggled to turn so that he lay on his back. “I do not need you.”
“I can do nothing for you. Even Lady Alais can do nothing for you and she wanted to try. You were responsible for the death of her father. You were going to kill her and still she wanted to save your life. She would have made you a good wife. Now someone else will have her and you will be dead.”
“No. She is the traitor’s daughter and deserves nothing except death.” Hugh could not tell what it cost his father to say those words, but they were the last words he ever spoke. Hugh knelt down and closed his father’s eyes, then turned his back on him. He was not surprised to find he felt no sorrow for his loss. Hugh had spent as much of his life as possible away from his father and the time they had spent together had not been happy. Sir William had not inspired in his children any of the admiration or respect that would be usual in such a relationship. Hugh felt closer to the king he barely knew than he did to his father.
“John,” he called for the steward, “am I still my father’s heir?” He did not care, but if he was he would stay and take on the estate. If he was not he would take Alais and go to Hill. On the whole, he thought he preferred the second.
The steward bowed. “Yes, my lord.”
Hugh looked at Alais and Edmund. “It looks as if we will be staying here and not going to the Low Countries after all.”
Chapter Nineteen
Alais did not have to look too far for something to do after the f
ighting was over; there seemed to be wounded and dying men everywhere in the hall. The injuries were worse than those she had seen at Hill and now she seemed to be on her own to deal with them. Leaving her in Edmund’s care, Hugh went to see what needed to be done elsewhere in the manor house. She felt strangely let down, as if she had expected something else, but Hugh had simply turned away from her. She understood that there was much for him to do. He had to arrange to identify and bury the dead; to notify the sheriff; to notify the king and his council. Then she remembered that Sir William had been the sheriff. Still, she had hoped for something more. Hugh had barely acknowledged her presence since his father had died. Had he changed his mind about her even as she had become free to go with him? And she was certain that this was what she wanted. She knew that if he offered to take her away now, she would go with him, whether as wife or mistress she cared not.
Her body refused to believe that she no longer had anything to fear and she shook as she and Edmund began to separate the living from the dying. For the moment, they treated friend and foe equally. Later Hugh or the new sheriff could decide what would happen to them. It crossed Alais’ mind that it might be kinder to let them die rather than face the horrors of execution and perhaps torture beforehand, but she was not the judge. It was her place to keep them alive if she could. She wanted Hugh to be here, with her. She wanted to be able to lean against him and draw on some of his strength. Perhaps he could not forgive her for killing his brother, she was not sure that she could forgive herself. It had not felt as if she had any choice. Stephen had made it clear that she was to die at his hand, but perhaps he had lied. Stephen was an accomplished liar. She had not thought that he could be a killer, but how well had she known him? What if he had not been going to kill her? That would make her a murderer. Not only a traitor’s daughter, she was now also a murderer. Since she had met Hugh she had piled one sin on top of another. She had worn a man’s clothes; she had cut her hair off; she had disobeyed her husband; she had coveted her husband’s son and now she had killed a man. There could be no hope for her. She must leave before she could cause more trouble for Hugh, but first she could help him by looking after as many of his men as she could. Yes, that might atone for some of her sin. Then she could leave. She had no idea where she could go, but she would leave Hugh to his estates and Lady Katherine. Yes, that would be for the best. It would be painful, but Hugh would be free of her wickedness, but she wanted to go with Hugh if he would have her. No, that could not be right. It would not be good for Hugh if he was with her. The room began to move around her and she leaned against a table to steady herself.
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