The Traitor's Daughter (17 page)

With Christmas past, there was little for anyone to do,
save sit in the hall and talk. The days were short and cold and there was
little work that could be done in the daylight, although Alais tried to be as
busy as she could. She missed Hugh more than ever and the evenings gathered
round the small fire in the hall seemed endless to her. No one at Liss, other
than Agnes, had any particular skill at telling stories and those that had some
skill had run through their complete repertoire long before Alais had arrived.
The family and retainers at Leigh had been content to hear the same story many
times and they had many stories between them and many good story-tellers, but
Liss grew bored easily and had little talent. Once Alais or Agnes had read from
one of the small number of books that Sir William possessed or one of the
minstrels had sung a song there was no more entertainment to be had and the
small household broke up into smaller groups to idle away the evening. Some of
the younger men took to gaming and managed to do so without openly attracting
Stephen’s attention. Alais tended to sit with Agnes, Joan and Elizabeth and
they were content to tell one another stories and sing songs, but one night
when the children were ill and Joan was absent and Elizabeth was stupid because
of a cold the three of them sat together quietly and Alais found her ear caught
by a conversation between Richard and Stephen, in Latin. She found herself
listening, despite herself.

It had been a long time since she had had the
opportunity to take part in a conversation in Latin. It had been part of her
education with Father Guillaume and they had frequently talked together in
Latin. Since she had left Leigh, however, she had not had the opportunity.
Alais listened to the two men expecting to hear an academic discussion. Stephen
had studied at Oxford and Richard, too, must have been educated to a high
standard to be able to join in the discussion, although Alais soon realised
that his Latin was not as good as Stephen’s. It soon became obvious to her,
however, that they were not speaking in Latin for the pleasure of discussing
academic topics, but so that no one else in the hall would know what they
discussed. What they were discussing was a plot to pay mercenaries to ambush
Sir William and lay his death at the feet of his eldest son. Alais understood that
it was a very simple plot. Hugh would be hanged for the murder of his father
and Stephen would inherit. Richard expected a share of that inheritance, which
Alais did not doubt he would receive. Unlike Hugh, Alais was beginning to
understand Stephen’s affections. He was fiercely attached to Marguerite, whose
twin he was and desperately in love with his wife, though he took great pains
that no one should discover either affection. Alais was both quick and
observant and she also understood that whilst he wanted his brother’s
inheritance, he did not want it for himself, but for his wife and children and
for his sister, whose husband had not proven able to keep hold of the land and
money that he had inherited. Alais understood that Stephen would have preferred
the cloister, but falling in love with Catherine had changed his plans.

Alais knew that she had to warn Hugh, but could not
think how. Any messenger she could send would report to Stephen. Any letter
that she could write would be intercepted before it could cross the moat. There
was no other way to warn him. He would die. Panic-stricken, she looked around
the hall as if searching for guidance. Agnes laid a hand on her knee. “You look
unwell,” she said, gently. “Do you, too, have a cold?”

Alais shook her head, then changed her mind as a
shocking idea entered her head. “I do not know. I do feel a bit strange.” And
that was no more than the truth. The idea that was suddenly filling her mind
scared her so much that she thought she must be ill. She would go herself to
London and warn her husband. She did not bother pretending to herself that she
was worried about him. It was for Hugh’s safety alone that she feared and for
Hugh alone that she could consider risking her life to take the warning in
person. She did not yet know how she would do it. The attack was not planned
for some days. She had no idea how far it was to London. If only she had spent
more time with Hugh’s messenger. However far it was, she knew that Full Moon
was strong enough to take her there and she was strong enough for the journey.

Pretending to doze, she continued to listen to Stephen
and Richard. She must find out as many details as she could discover. And she
had already decided that she would not leave tonight. Since Stephen could not
possibly know that she understood Latin, her disappearance could hardly be
considered a coincidence, but she had preparations to make. It was winter and
she could not simply get on her horse and leave. Thinking like this calmed her
and she was able to smile at Agnes when she asked after her health again later
that evening.

As she lay in bed that night, she went over her plan.
The chest in Hugh’s room was full of his clothes, so she could easily disguise
herself again. Although this time she could not rely on a hood to cover her
hair and would have to cut it off. Since she knew that this was an even greater
sin than dressing as a man, she considered again every other means by which she
might prevent Stephen and Richard from carrying out their plan, but could think
of none. There was only one way and she decided to take it, no matter what the
cost to herself.

There was some coin in Hugh’s chest and it would not
really be stealing for her to use it to travel to London to save his life.
Besides, she understood now, as she had not before, that Hugh would value her
hair above the coin and feel its loss the greater of the two. At least Full
Moon was her own and she had exercised him regularly and was confident of her
ability to ride him, even on such a journey as this. Despite its size, she
would take one of the French swords that Hugh had left behind. It would serve
to scare off attackers and to keep up the illusion of her being a man. She knew
only that London lay north, but did not doubt her ability to find her way there.

The next night there was no further discussion between
Richard and Stephen that she could ascertain. She had complained of a sore
throat in the morning and began to cough as the evening wore on. Agnes was most
solicitous, pleased that her diagnosis of the previous day had been proved
correct. She was perfectly happy to retire early with Alais and Elizabeth,
whose own cold was worsening. The three women slept restlessly and Alais woke
as she had planned in the very early morning and got out of bed. As she had
expected, Agnes awoke. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.

“I am going to get something for my throat,” Alais
replied, even more quietly. It would not do to wake Elizabeth in her condition.
She coughed for effect

“Hurry back then, or you’ll get cold,” said Agnes and
fell asleep again before Alais was out of the room.

Alais did not need a candle to find her way around the
house in the dark. Weeks of early rising without a candle meant that she could
move around easily by touch alone. She did light one in Hugh’s room to be sure
that she took everything she had hidden there during the day. Taking out the
dagger that she always wore suspended from her belt, she cut her hair, crying
as she did so and wrapped the plait in the dress she had packed to appear in at
court. Then she dressed quickly in the clothes she had worn on the journey from
Hill, blew out the candle and went downstairs. She was worried as she
approached the stables. Occasionally male and female servants would go there to
spend the night together in the hay loft, but it was a cold night and the only
living beings in the stables were the horses. She lit her candle again and made
her way to Full Moon. He nuzzled her for food and she gave him an apple that
she had stolen from the kitchen. Then she saddled him as quietly as she could
and led him out into the courtyard. This was the most dangerous part of her
plan. Whilst she knew the importance of quiet, Full Moon did not and could not
be induced to walk softly.

Since the servants were also becoming unwell with colds,
it had been straightforward enough for Alais to offer to take the evening meal
to the guards on the gatehouse. With her knowledge of herbs, it was an easy
matter to put something in their food to make them sleep. They were, indeed,
snoring gently as she approached the gatehouse. She opened the small gate and
shut it carefully behind her, hoping that no one would realise before morning
that the gate had been opened. They crossed the moat and she led the horse out
through the village, listening to the soft crunch of frost underfoot. She was
grateful that it had not yet snowed; it would have made this journey impossible
for her. Although the moon was not yet full, there was moonlight and she knew
that she could cover some distance before she was missed at daybreak. If she
was fortunate they would think she was exercising Full Moon and not miss her
until late in the day. She doubted anyone would come after her. Only the three
women would miss her. Stephen might even be glad at her departure. Since he
would not be expecting his father to return to Liss again, he would not have to
answer to him for her disappearance. Alais pointed Full Moon’s head north and
urged him on. Her only consolation was that she would be seeing Hugh in two or
three days, if all went well.

Alais covered a lot of ground on that first day. The
time she had spent exercising with Full Moon had not been wasted and she found
that she could ride as fast as a man quite easily. She was light and the horse
stepped out eagerly. No one, certainly no one at Liss, could have expected a
woman to ride as she did that day. There were only the inns at night to worry
about. If she had to share a bed, her companions would certainly find her out,
but her luck held there, too and that night she had a bed to herself and the
next. There were few travellers at this time of year.

As she rode north, Alais thought about Stephen and his
desire to inherit and she began to wonder again about Geoffrey. No one knew who
was responsible for Geoffrey’s death. It seemed possible to her that he had
been the first victim of Stephen’s scheming. Geoffrey had died shortly after
Stephen’s arrival from Oxford. Stephen must have been disappointed when Hugh’s
return from France at around the same time meant that the latter was no longer
in any immediate danger of being killed or captured by a French knight.

Alais pictured Stephen walking around the estate with Geoffrey
and suddenly drawing his sword… And there the picture faltered. Why would
Stephen be wearing a sword? He never wore a sword. Geoffrey would have noticed and
would have questioned him and would not have gone with him unarmed himself.
Even if Stephen had managed to convince his brother that there was some danger
that necessitated his bearing arms, Geoffrey would have insisted on wearing his
own sword. Probably he had hired a mercenary as he was planning now. That would
explain why Geoffrey had not been armed. It did not, however, explain why he
only had one wound and why his clothes had disappeared.

Alais found it hard to feel sorry for Geoffrey. There
were many stories of his cruelty, not just to Elizabeth, but to villagers and
servants as well. He was not missed by anyone at Liss.

On the afternoon of the third day, it started to snow
and Alais knew that she must press on to arrive at court that day. She would be
cold and wet tomorrow if she did not and the road would be hard to distinguish
from fields and ditches. Full Moon began to have difficulty picking his way
through the snow, but still Alais urged him on. It grew darker all afternoon
and night would come early. Alais was sure there would be no finding her way
that night if it continued to snow and the moon was obscured. Then she was
there before she saw it, the small village on the bank of a big river. The directions
she had obtained from the last innkeeper had held true. She found a ferryman
and begged him to take her over the river before night came. He was less
impressed by her pleading than he was by the money she gave him. Once across
the river she wasted no time in finding the palace and asking for her husband.
Beating on the palace doors, she demanded that Sir William de Liss be told that
one Alfred FitzJean of Leigh had an urgent message for him. The man sent a boy
who returned a few minutes later with Edmund. His eyes opened wide at the sight
of her. “Well, Alfred,” he said at last, “you are come late. Your master will
be displeased.”

“It was the snow, sir,” replied Alais quietly.

“Come in then, boy, before you freeze,” said Edmund.

The guard opened the gate and Edmund instructed the boy
to take the horse to the stables.

“And treat him well,” said Alais. “He has served me well
these last three days.”

She patted Full Moon in what she hoped was a manly
fashion, took her bag from the saddle and followed Edmund, taking care to cover
her face with her hood and to keep her eyes down. Edmund made to take her bag
and she pulled it closer to her body. He immediately dropped his hand and set
off at a fast pace without bothering to check that she followed.

Edmund left Hugh in his bedchamber when the boy had
arrived with the news that Alfred wanted to see him. Unlike Edmund, Hugh had
not needed to see ‘Alfred’ to know who would be coming in out of the snow. What
he did not know was why. Alais had surely not run away from Liss to him. She
had given him no indication that she felt the need to leave Liss. Her letters
had been unhappy, but she seemed to have the strength to manage there. Equally,
there had been no sign that she had any feelings towards him that she could not
properly have for her stepson. Yes, there had been moments of shared intimacy
that were perhaps deeper than would normally be appropriate, but she had
suffered the terror of the threat to her life in Southampton and the loss of her
mother. He had simply provided comfort and temporary security. It was natural
that she should confide in the person that she knew best in her new life. For
his part, he did not think he had led her astray. He had not understood his own
feelings himself. It was only Edmund who had been clear-sighted enough to see
what might be going on. Since he had left her behind, he had convinced himself
that it was only her resemblance to the much-loved and much-missed Isabella
that had led him to think of her other than as his father’s wife. He looked
upon her as a man might look upon a younger sister.

Alais had been much on his mind since he had left Liss.
He found himself suddenly excited by the thought that she might have run away
to him and began to pace the room. He was certainly happy at the prospect of
seeing her again. He had enjoyed her company and her strength. Since she
thought that his father was at court, it seemed unlikely that she had come to
him, however. That she was travelling alone was certain, why else would she
come as Alfred and not as Lady Alais? He found himself suddenly consumed with
anger at the thought of her making a journey like that alone. It was bad enough
that she had had to travel from Southampton in a way that endangered her life.
Why had she put herself in such danger again? Speculation was useless; Alais
would either tell him what he wanted to know, or she would not.

He looked up as Alais and Edmund entered the room.
Alais’ cloak was covered in snow and she was shivering uncontrollably. He
stepped forward immediately. He wondered at the grin that he could not remove
from his face. The situation was hardly amusing.

“You must be cold, Lady Alais. Come, give me your hands
and I will warm them as I used to do for my sister.” He smiled fondly at the
memory of little Isabella. She had always offered up her hands for him to warm
when she came in from outside in the colder months. He caught up Alais’ hands
in his own and placed them against his chest, between his unbuttoned tunic and
his undershirt. As soon as he registered the touch of her cold hands against
his chest, Hugh knew the extent of his lies to himself. The emotions that her
touch evoked were nothing that a man should feel for his sister. Alais usually
looked him directly in the eye, but her gaze was averted and she was biting her
lip.

She stretched out her fingers as they warmed and the
movement drew a hissing breath from him. Alais tore her hands away in confusion
and Edmund cleared his throat loudly and took a blanket from the bed. Alais
removed the wet cloak and received the blanket gratefully. As she removed her
hood both men saw that she had cut her hair off. They exchanged a glance and
Hugh indicated with his head that Edmund should take up position to guard the
closed door. Hugh turned back to Alais. What crisis could have made her do
this?

“How long since you ate?” he asked. It was not what he
wanted to know, but she had travelled far and could talk once her physical
needs were seen to.

“It matters not.” Alais was still shivering. “Oh, but I
am cold.” She began rubbing her arms beneath the blanket. Hugh was tempted to
take her in his arms and hold her until she was warm, but a glance from Edmund
stopped him. He held the glance, daring the other man to say something.

“Edmund, perhaps Hilda could get something hot from the
kitchen for Lady Alais.”

Edmund frowned at him. “I shall guard the door,” and
Hugh crossed the room to stand by the door, putting the length of the room
between him and Alais. He feared it might not be enough.

Edmund leaned close to him as he left. “Do nothing
stupid,” he whispered. Hugh could not blame him. He finally understood why
Edmund had been so concerned and wondered that he had not seen it coming
himself. He wanted to gather Alais into his arms and hold her until she was
warm again. He wanted to cover her face in kisses at the sheer joy of seeing
her again. He wanted to do much more, but he had already frightened her in his
stupidity.

“I will not. But be quick.” He did not know how long he
could resist the temptation without Edmund there.

Alais was rubbing her hands together. “My lord, I have
urgent news,” she started across the room towards him, but she stopped
suddenly, looking into his face and then backed away. Damn! He had frightened
her away again.

“I guessed that from your appearance.”

Alais raised a hand to her hair; her loss fleetingly
expressed on her face. “There was no other way, my lord. I am sorry for its
loss.”

Hugh was amazed; she seemed to be apologising to him.

“I also had to steal money from your chest.” Now he was
certain that she was apologising.

“I seem to recall giving you the use of everything in my
room.”

“I cannot repay it, my lord.”

At last he was able to smile. “I know you did not do it
lightly and I trust your judgement. Now, what is your news?”

Edmund knocked on the door and came back in. “She will
be here soon.”

Alais looked from one to the other. “Now that I am here,
I can scarce believe myself what I must tell you. Stephen and Richard are
plotting to kill your father and blame it on you. Where is he? I asked for him
at the gate.”

It was not lost to Hugh that Alais had not referred to
Sir William as ‘my husband’ as she had done before. Her weeks at Liss must have
changed how she thought about his father. Then he realised what she had said.

“They want to kill him? That does not sound like
Stephen. He prefers to wound with words rather than with the sword.” He was not
surprised that Stephen was making plots. It had not escaped Hugh’s notice that
Stephen’s wife had already spent more money than Stephen could possibly have.
Their mother had left him something, but otherwise he had very little and Hugh
suspected that Catherine spent as much on clothes in a year as he spent on Hill,
which was no small amount.

“They have hired mercenaries to attack him. They will
send a letter to him in your name asking him to meet you at his house at Ewell.
The letter will be left with his body so that the guilt will be yours. There
will be no witnesses left to say otherwise.” It was a simple and straightforward
plan. Hugh could almost admire it.

“How do you know this?” Alais was not offended by
Edmund’s directness; she seemed rather to appreciate it.

“I overheard them discussing it one night.”

“In the hall? They were discussing it in the hall where
anyone could overhear?” Edmund’s tone did not indicate that he disbelieved
Alais, simply that he did not think Stephen would be that stupid.

“They were talking in Latin.”

“And you understand Latin,” said Hugh, remembering the
way that Alais had followed the funeral rites for her mother. It seemed
incredible, but he had heard of women who spoke and read Latin.

Alais nodded. “Please, my lord, you must do something.
You are in great danger. Even now the messenger could be on his way to your
father.”

“My father is in Portsmouth. The council sent him to
inspect the fortifications there and report back. A messenger came for him
yesterday. He could have come from Liss, although I did not recognise him. When
is the attack to take place?”

“On Candlemas Eve.”

“Then we have time.”

“You forget the snow!” Alais was almost shouting in her
impatience at his stupidity and Hugh wondered what she feared.

“You do,” agreed Edmund, with a grin at Alais. Then he
opened the door as someone knocked. “Come in, mother. Here is Lady Alais.”

Hilda’s jaw dropped as she saw Alais with her short hair
and man’s clothes. Then she remembered to curtsey, which she did awkwardly as
she tried not to tip the bowl she was holding.

“Oh, is that for me?” asked Alais as she crossed the
room to take the warm bowl of pottage from the older woman. Sitting on the bed,
she began to eat hungrily.

Hugh wanted nothing more than to stand and watch her,
but there was much to be done. “Do you have some proper clothes?” asked Hugh.
Alais nodded, her mouth too full to speak. “Then Hilda will take you to the
chamber where the ladies sleep. I know not how we will hide your lack of hair.”

“Do not worry, my lord,” said Hilda, “I can do something
about that. No one will know.”

“No one will notice an extra lady, since the queen is
not here and there are many strangers still here from the Christmas feast. Very
well, my lady. Edmund and I must ride to Ewell to meet my father and you must
stay here until I, or Edmund, come to collect you.”

He saw Alais pale and immediately regretted what he had
said. Alais would now think that she was sending them both to their deaths,
which she might be. Hugh had briefly considered not going to his father’s aid.
His father certainly did not deserve his help and it would mean that Alais
would not have to consummate her marriage to him. She at least would be safe.
Another thought tried to edge its way into his mind, but he refused to consider
it. His father was his lord and he owed him his fealty, regardless of what he
had done or would do. Hugh would not leave him to die and steal his wife,
however much he might want to.

“Do not fear, my lady, I do not intend to die,” he said,
carelessly. Alais looked at him closely.

“Are you sure, my lord?” she asked.

Hugh blinked in surprise, then realised that he had no
answer for her. He had spoken only to reassure her, but she had seen the lie.
He had thought that months of practice lying to his father had made him a
better liar, but it seemed not to be so.

“No,” she continued, “I see that you are not sure.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I thought to save your life by coming here, not to
destroy it.”

Hugh could not move, could not even speak. There was so
much that he suddenly wanted to say, so much that he suddenly understood. She
had come for him to save his life, but she feared that he would die.

“I shall look after him,” said Edmund, trying to lighten
the mood. Alais did not even glance at him; her eyes were fixed on Hugh’s.

“My lord?”

“I do not know,” he said at last, “but if news of my
death would grieve you, I would try very hard to spare you.”

“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.”