The house, one storey of living area with
cellars underneath, was dark and silent to his left. To his right
were three rougher buildings. One must, he thought, be the stable
and the others some kind of storage buildings. He glanced at the
house, suddenly doubtful. Surely if the earl were inside there
would be a light. Surely Hugh couldn’t risk sleeping if he were to
return to his chambers before dawn. What if the guards—the
rumor—had been wrong? What if he himself were wrong? He would look
like an old, jealous fool. If, however, Hugh’s horse were in the
stable, then Haworth’s dark suppositions would be vindicated.
He dismounted, tied the reins to a crabapple
tree by the wall and crossed the yard to the first building. As he
put his hand to the short bar of wood fitted into two notched
protuberances on either side of the door, he heard strange noises
from within; snuffling and shifting sounds quite unlike the usual
sounds made by horses. A little puzzled, he swung the bar up and
opened the door. At that moment, chaos was unleashed.
This wasn’t the stable but the kennels where
the huntsman kept the earl’s hounds. There were crates and pens
inside, generously proportioned and provisioned with straw, and
filled with barking, frantic dogs, disturbed in their sleep and
faced with an unfamiliar intruder.
The clamor was loud and unnerving. Haworth
hastily stepped backwards and slammed the door shut. The barking
did not abate, nor did it seem to decrease in volume. He knew what
would happen next and he turned towards the house to meet it. Sure
enough, a moment later he saw a light moving across the darkened
windows and then the door to the house flew in with sudden force. A
figure appeared on the threshold and despite the rain and the
night, Haworth recognized it immediately. “Who is it?” the huntsman
demanded, loudly and sternly. “Answer me! Who is it?”
Haworth moved into his line of vision. “It’s
I, le Loop,” he answered. “Roger of Haworth.”
Was there a slight hesitation before le Loop
repeated his name? And then, pulling the door closed after him, the
huntsman hurried down the steps and across the muddy yard. He
stopped a few yards from Haworth. “What brings you here, Sir
Roger?” His voice sounded cautious to the other man.
“I was told I would find the earl here.”
They were both speaking loudly because the
barking continued, even more frantic now as the dogs recognized
their master’s voice. The noise grated on Haworth’s already thin
nerves but le Loop didn’t seem bothered. “The earl?” he echoed.
Haworth studied him. In the vast darkness,
clad only in a thin, unbleached tunic now wet from rain and
clinging to his lithe frame, Gilbert’s demeanor was not as
self-assured as it had been during the hunt—this despite the fact
that he stood in his own home. He seemed vulnerable, uncertain what
to say or what to make of this strange interruption of his night.
His face looked young and bewildered, not calculating or
triumphant. He was not like Bolsover or de Vere…Haworth didn’t feel
the same hatred for le Loop as he had for the other two. The boy
had never crossed him; indeed, had treated him with respect.
“Yes,” Haworth said when it was clear Gilbert
would say no more. “You remember? The man who owns the castle above
the plain? This house of yours?” Suddenly he frowned. “Can’t you
quiet those hounds?”
“Yes, of course, Sir Roger!” The young man
seemed relieved to be told what to do. “If you will just move
aside…”
Wordlessly, Haworth stepped to his left.
Gilbert pushed the bar up and stepped over the threshold. Without
warning, Haworth gave his back a might shove and le Loop went
flying. Haworth pulled the door shut and set the bar down. He
didn’t think there was another exit from the building but didn’t
bother to waste time investigating. He was quite certain Gilbert
wouldn’t chase after him.
He turned towards the house.
There was now a yellow light showing behind
one of the two shuttered windows in the long side of the house
facing him. He was aware of nothing now except his own
apprehension. There was no rain, no shrill dogs, no night, no horse
tethered to the crabapple tree…There was only a hand around his
heart, squeezing painfully, a grip so tight it was hard to draw
breath. He stared at the window, trying to breathe, feeling
lightheaded. For the first time in his life, he was frightened. He
could, he thought, just turn around and leave.
But he couldn’t leave. He started walking
across the yard.
He didn’t understand why this time was
different than the others. This time he blamed Hugh, not the young
man with whom he’d taken up. But why? Because he thought more
kindly of Gilbert le Loop, whom he considered cocky but not
calculating? Or because it was one time too many? Or because he’d
thought Hugh had finally come to realize it was Haworth he needed,
not those dazzling youngsters with their fair hair and taut,
slender bodies?
He climbed the wooden steps to the door and
opened it.
The room into which he stepped comprised most
of the house’s living space. There were two simple plank doors at
the far end to his right where two rooms had apparently been
partitioned off and almost immediately to his left was a large
hearth, but apart from these features the house was mostly this
rectangular room. There were shelves and hooks fixed onto and into
the wall opposite the door upon which were arrayed various
household implements and nonperishable stores and there was a
collection of outer garb hanging on pegs in the wall by the door.
He took it all in without really seeing it and then, because there
was nothing else to look at, his eyes went to the focal point of
the room: an enormous wooden table with a long bench on either
side.
Hugh sat facing him, a lamp set on the table
beside him. Like the huntsman, he was only casually dressed, as
though he’d been naked and had hastily thrown on some clothing when
the dogs had barked their warning.
Haworth stared at him, confused by his
reaction. He’d been angered by the realization of Hugh’s betrayal;
he’d spent the time waiting for the saddled horse to be brought to
him and riding to le Loop’s house gnawing on every possible
encounter Hugh and the huntsman may have had, embellishing every
word, every casual greeting, until the affair seemed to dwarf his
own relationship with Hugh in its passion and intensity, until all
his years with the earl had been reduced to a trivial fling. But
some of his anger had dissipated when confronted by the young man’s
cautious civility and now it was further deflated by Hugh’s calm,
self-possessed posture at the table and his steady, returning
stare.
“Well…” Hugh said mildly when Haworth did not
speak. “I won’t say this is a surprise.”
The hand around Haworth’s heart squeezed
violently and his face twisted with anguish. “Why?” he whispered
hoarsely.
“Why what, Roger? Why aren’t I suprised to
see you? Why after three years? Why Gilbert le Loop?” He paused.
“Why aren’t you enough?”
Again the hand squeezed and now there was
also a sharp pain in his stomach, as if someone had just stabbed
him with a dagger. “Yes, my lord…” he croaked. “Why aren’t I
enough?”
Hugh looked at him for a moment before
replying, his eyes dark in the scanty light, expressionless. Then
he said, “I don’t know,” in a flat voice.
Haworth felt lightheaded. He moved clumsily
to the nearest bench and sat down. He leaned his elbows on the
table, put his head in his hands and closed his eyes.
“Roger…I have a deep affection for you. I
respect you as a soldier, a knight and my captain. You've been
nothing but loyal—”
His head snapped up at that. “Everything I’ve
ever done has been for you, my lord!” he interrupted plaintively.
“I thought, especially since Llanlleyn, that you finally understood
that.”
“I’ve always known it, Roger. And have always
been grateful. I’m sorry you’re upset.”
“But you don't really care, do you, my lord?”
he said bitterly. “And you can’t tell me it won’t happen again with
someone else.”
Hugh frowned. “Someone else? Roger, what have
you done with Gilbert?”
“I locked him in the kennels with his
precious hounds. Safe enough.” Hugh’s expression of relief was so
obvious that he perversely added, “For now.”
“Roger, he’s the innocent party in this—”
“Innocent? No, my lord, he
is
not
innocent in
this!” Haworth scrambled to his feet. “He is no more innocent than
Bolsover or de Vire! Perhaps I will have to take care of le Loop as
I took care of those two!”
Hugh was suddenly very still. “What do you
mean?” he asked quietly.
“What I said.”
“Are you out of your mind, Roger?” But it was
spoken calmly, as if Hugh didn’t believe him. “Robert Bolsover was
killed in a hunting accident and you told me the Bastard himself
murdered de Vire.”
“There was no accident, my lord! My aim was
deliberate. As for that turd de Vire…well, you sent me after him
and I found him. It was the Welsh who captured me after I’d killed
him and then Richard Delamere. I didn’t see the Bastard until I was
taken to his camp.”
The shock on Hugh’s face was plain even in
the poor light. Haworth had been speaking with an anger prompted by
Hugh’s concern for the huntsman and disregard for the man who’d
been his most loyal servant for almost twenty years but now he
relented. He didn’t want to hurt Hugh; that would make him the same
kind of man as the others. He leaned over the table and reached a
hand towards Hugh’s shoulder but the earl pulled back.
“Roger, please tell me you’re lying. Please
tell me this isn’t true! The story you told me about Ralph…”
“I made it up, my lord.
I
had
to! You were
at death’s door, don’t you remember?” Haworth spoke in a quiet,
urgent voice. He sat down again and looked earnestly at Hugh. “You
hadn’t left your chamber for months! You were going to die! I told
you that story because I knew the idea of vengeance against the
Bastard would spur you into action! Would make you
live!”
“But you killed him, Roger! Why? And Robert
Bolsover as well? Why, Roger? Because they were rivals for my
attention?”
“No! Because they would have destroyed you,
my lord!” He tried to keep his voice even but he was strangely
elated. He’d long wanted to explain everything he’d done to Hugh;
he wanted no secrets between them. He hadn’t envisioned this time,
this place, these circumstances but it was all right. He’d get the
burden of secrecy off his shoulders and then he and Hugh could
start again. “You cared for them more deeply than they cared for
you—they wanted only what your money and power could give them—they
cared nothing for you as a man!”
“But that was my decision, Roger, not
yours—”
“My lord, you were too
entangled to think clearly. You couldn’t make a rational decision.
I
had
to intervene!
To save you!” Haworth’s heart was beating so rapidly he had to
pause to take a breath. “I admit, I was jealous of Bolsover. But
that’s not why I killed him. His influence over you was too great
for a man of your position. You’d given him land and income and
horses—you’d even married his sister! Who knows where it would have
ended if I hadn’t put a stop to him! And afterwards—you thanked me!
Don’t you remember, my lord? You said you’d been wrong to get
involved with a man like Robert Bolsover. You said it must never
happen again. You said I must not let you make a fool of yourself
again!”
Hugh was shaking his head. “I don’t remember
that…”
“And then I saw it starting again with Ralph
de Vire!”
“You hated Ralph…”
“No, my lord. I hated the influence he had
over you.”
Hugh did not reply. He sat at the table, no
longer looking at Haworth but at some point on the long plank.
Haworth said nothing although his stomach was churning. He thought
the earl was carefully considering everything he’d said; he thought
once Hugh went over it all, he would understand his captain’s
actions—and admit they had been necessary.
Then Hugh stood up. He looked down at
Haworth, whose face was tilted toward him expectantly. “This is the
most fantastic story I’ve ever heard, Roger,” he said quietly. “I
will not bring charges of murder against you—”
“Charges!”
“—if you agree to leave my service at first
light. I will give you coin, three horses, a new hauberk and sword.
As long as you swear never to come near me again, I will not
divulge the circumstances of your dismissal.”
Haworth was stunned further. “You’re
dismissing me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Hugh leaned over the table. “Roger, you are a
man obsessed. It's best for the both of us, but particularly for
you, if we are no longer with each other.”
“My lord, didn’t you hear
what I said? I did what I did for
you!
To help
you!
”
Hugh’s voice was sharp. “You did it for
yourself, Roger!”
Haworth got to his feet. “How can you say
that? It isn’t true!” he protested.
But Hugh wasn’t listening. He’d turned away
and now Haworth watched as he picked up the lamp from the table,
walked to the far end of the room, opened one of the doors and
disappeared behind it. Haworth stood in the sudden darkness,
staring helplessly at the door, bewildered by the turn of the
conversation. He’d laid it all down for Hugh very plainly. Why
didn’t Hugh see the truth of it? And now, he thought miserably, it
was going to happen again with Gilbert le Loop.
After some time, the far door opened and Hugh
re-appeared, holding the lamp before him. He’d gotten properly
dressed, including boots and sword. He took a few steps forward and
then stopped and frowned at Haworth. “Are you still here? Take your
horse, go back to the castle and spend the remainder of the night
in the barracks. In the morning, see my steward. Everything will
have been arranged.”