The Traitor's Daughter

by Munday, April

  “My lady…”

  “It does not matter, Edmund. I will ride with Hugh. He may kill my husband when we get to Liss, but at the moment I am minded to keep him alive rather than let him die in the gutter.”

  “Very well.” Edmund swung himself onto his horse in one easy, disdainful movement.

  Alais paused in her own movement towards Full Moon. How was she going to get herself and an angry, injured knight onto her horse? “You mount and I will follow you,” whispered Hugh in her ear. She followed his instruction and soon they were both astride Full Moon under her cloak, although Hugh had taken so long and was so clumsy about it that she began to wonder whether he was well enough for this journey. Hugh’s wet cloak was spread on the flanks of the horse, although Alais doubted it would dry before they came to Liss. They followed Edmund along the road. It was a bright day and the light of the sun reflected by the frozen snow pained Alais’ eyes before they had gone very far.

  “It was for your sake…” she began.

  “It matters not. You are not his to touch.”

  “Nor yours,” she retorted, despite herself.

  Hugh held her against his body with his right hand and guided Full Moon with his left. Alais dared not be reminded of their first journey to Liss. Then Hugh had been well and in control, now he was weak and his pain gave voice to things that Alais would rather not hear.

  “You will tell me, my lord,” she asked, “when you feel that you cannot control the horse?”

  “That day will not come,” said Hugh, pulling her tight against him. She compared the feel of his body against her with how it had felt on their previous journey. Then it had been firm and hard. He had held himself straight on his horse and had held her for the pleasure of holding her. Now, she suspected, he was holding her to prevent himself from falling off.

  “You are not fully recovered.” Alais was still angry that they had left before she was convinced that Hugh was ready for the journey. He had persuaded her that he was capable of staying astride a horse for a full day’s journey, but she doubted they would make it to midday.

  “I am recovered enough.” The fingers of the hand that held her against him opened, inviting their former familiarity. Alais hesitated, then threaded her fingers through his. She squeezed his fingers tightly.

  Alais considered whether she should ask her next question, but decided that she had no choice. “Are you sure that you can protect me?”

  Hugh had pulled her tight against him, the ferocity of the action almost winding her. “No, I am not sure, but Edmund will die for you, I am sure of that.” He sounded bitter and hurt.

  “I do not want him to die for me, or you. I do not want anyone to die for me.” She tried to gather her thoughts. “I want you to be completely well before we arrive at Liss.”

  “You are the best judge of that and I will bow to whatever decision you come to.” She sighed, wishing that he had been this sensible yesterday, rather than insisting that they leave today.

  “You were prepared to kill Edmund?” she had not intended to ask the question, but it came out anyway.

  “He was going to touch you,” Hugh said, simply.

  “There was nothing behind it. You know that. He thought it would be better for you if I rode with him.”

  “He was wrong.”

  “He thought you were not strong enough to bear someone else,” she persisted.

  “I can bear anything, as long as you are with me.”

  “Hugh, you know that I cannot. When we get to Liss I will be married to your father.”

  “Come with me. There are places where we can go. He will not find us.” Why was he doing this again? She was weary of arguing with him. Was this the real reason Edmund had wanted her to ride with him, so that Hugh would not have the chance to wear her down while they were riding?

  “I will know that I am his wife. I cannot go with you. Please. I am promised to him. I cannot be a liar. I am betrothed to him. I cannot be released unless he releases me.” She doubted her husband would release her. A man who had left his dying son leaving orders for his bride to be brought to him was not a man who was likely to let that bride go.

  “He has already betrayed you. Your marriage vows are meaningless.”

  “They mean a great deal to me. My brother promised me to your father. I spoke my betrothal vows as a grown woman in my right mind. It matters not what manner of man he is. I have promised myself to him.”

  And that was the crux of the matter. It did not matter what her brother had promised. He was dead and could not be gainsaid. She had spoken her betrothal vows of her own free will, convinced that they would help her family remove themselves from the cloud of treachery.

  She felt Hugh slump against her. “My lord?”

  “I am well.” He straightened behind her.

  “Edmund?” She raised her voice to get his attention.

  Edmund brought his horse up beside them. “My lady?”

  “When can we stop?”

  “We can go on until darkness falls,” said Hugh, loudly.

  “Let us stop at the next inn,” Alais contradicted him.

  “Very well, my lady.”

  “I am stronger than that,” hissed Hugh in her ear.

  “I know, my lord,” she responded, coldly, “but I need you to be able to fight for me when we arrive at Liss. That means that you must rest before you think you need it and sleep longer than you want.”

  “I can fight…”

  “No,” she interrupted him, “you cannot. If Edmund had decided to fight you this morning, you would have lost. You must be strong for me, or we will all die.” She was certain now that this was true. It was not just for his own sake that Hugh pressed her to go away with him; he feared for her life if he took her to his father.

  As the morning wore on, Hugh leaned against her more and more, until eventually he fell asleep. Alais realised what was happening in time to take the reigns and guide the horse. Hugh’s weight was heavy against her back and his head rested on her shoulder. They had badly misjudged his recovery. They would have to stay at the inn for a few days, until she was sure that he could continue the journey.

  Hugh awoke shortly before they arrived at the inn. Alais was relived. It would be better if Hugh could convince the innkeeper that he was capable of anything. Hugh and Edmund went inside to arrange for a room while Alais took the horses to the stables. When she joined them, Hugh was sitting on the bed removing his tunic. “We thought you would want to see his wound before he got into bed,” Edmund explained.

  Hugh said nothing. Once again his pale skin was glistening with sweat. He must have been in even more pain than she had realised. She examined his wound, but there seemed to be no problem with it. She looked quickly at the bruising on his chest where Edmund had hit him in case it had made him ill again. No, it was just the physical effort of the morning that had brought him so low.

  “There is nothing wrong that rest will not cure,” she smiled as she knelt down to help Hugh off with his boots. Hugh pulled his feet away, “You do not wait on me, my lady.”

  “Very well.” She stood and walked over to the door, where she stood with Edmund watching Hugh struggle to undress. He did not ask for help and Edmund did not offer. Alais looked around the room. “Where is my bed?” she hissed at Edmund.

  “There is no other bed,” explained Edmund, in a whisper. “I am sorry, my lady. This is the only room they have. I thought it better…”

  “Yes,” interrupted Alais, “you were right. He could not have gone further today.”

  With an exclamation of disgust, Hugh finally removed a boot.

  “Need my help now?” asked Edmund, lazily.

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  Alais looked at the bed. It was certainly larger than the bed she had shared with Agnes, but how could she share a bed with Hugh? In his current state of mind, she did not think he would let her sleep next to Edmund. Perhaps they could get a palliasse from the innkeeper an
d she could sleep on the floor. Perhaps she could sleep on the floor, anyway. Perhaps she could sleep in the bed tomorrow and sit up tonight.

  Alais and Edmund stood by the door until Hugh was asleep again.

  “Where am I to sleep, Edmund?”

  “I do not know my lady. I already asked the innkeeper for a palliasse. He has none.”

  Alais sighed. “Then it will be a blanket on the floor.”

  “My lady…”

  “Would you rather I shared a bed with Hugh? What will you say then, when we get to Liss?”

  “I do not think it will make any difference what I say, my lady.”

  “Neither do I, but I will not do it. And I do not want you to leave me alone with him.”

  Edmund nodded and Alais went to enquire whether or not the innkeeper had spare blankets.

  After three days, Hugh was strong enough for them to set off again. He swung himself easily into the saddle behind Alais and she knew that the wait had done him good, although he had driven her and Edmund to distraction. He had at first tried to give up the bed to her, until she had grown tired of pointing out that the reason for their stay was so that he could recover, which he would not do sleeping on the floor. He then continued to try to persuade her to go away with him. She left the room several times so that he would not see her tears. On the second day she cried in front of him and, losing her temper at last, berated him for making her so miserable. That was the last time he spoke of taking her from his father. Then he started to grumble at Edmund until Edmund swore that his last day of serving Hugh would be the day that they arrived at Liss. He would take his family and find another lord to serve since he was a free man and able to find his own master. Alais knew that he was serious long before Hugh did and wondered how he would fare without Edmund to look after him.

  She was weary when they set off again. She had slept badly on the floor and she was angry with Hugh that he had spoiled the short time that they had had together. Now he pulled her tight against him and she felt the return of some of his physical power. There was something different about the way that he held her, but she was asleep against his chest before she had given it much thought.

  They had decided to make their travelling days shorter, so that Edmund and Hugh could run through their training exercises. Now Alais watched, not so much to ensure that Hugh did not tire himself, but for the joy of watching him move. Each day his movements became easier and he was now lifting his own sword as easily as he had lifted his nephews’ wooden ones. He had become very thin while they were at Southwark, but now he was filling out again. When the two men wrestled, she could see his muscles moving smoothly under his pale skin.

  “Well, my lady, do you think I can protect you now?” he asked when he finally managed to wrestle Edmund to the ground.

  “Yes, my lord, I think you can protect me now,” but she felt no comfort at the prospect.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hugh agreed with Alais that there was no point in her changing out of his clothes, before she went into the house. Hugh had already told his father that she had travelled to court to warn them. He had not mentioned that she had come disguised as a man, but her shorn hair would soon tell him. As Liss came into view Hugh pulled Alais even closer against him. He ignored her gasp of surprise, or perhaps it was pain. Even now, he hoped that she might change her mind and ask him to turn round, but he knew that she would not. Edmund had been following behind them most of the day, giving them some semblance of privacy for their last few hours together. Now he urged his horse on until he rode beside them.

  “My lady?” Hugh was worried that Alais had started to shiver.

  “I am cold.” Her voice was muffled in the cloak that wrapped them both. Hugh smiled grimly. He knew that Alais thought that he was a poor liar, but she did not seem to know that she was far worse. He hated his father for the fear that he had inspired in the young woman he held in front of him. Hugh had done many things in his life that had been difficult or had caused him pain, but nothing equalled what it cost him not to abduct Alais and get her on a boat to take her away to the Low Countries and safety. It was only her own determination to honour her vows that had stopped him; she would never forgive him if he made her a liar. His father did not deserve such steadfastness from a wife. Now he could feel that she was weakening. Perhaps if he asked her now, she would go with him, but now was too late, they were entering the courtyard of the manor house.

  Servants came rushing out to take the horses. Hugh helped Alais down and suddenly she was out of his arms. She looked at him, her eyes full of unshed tears, her face full of longing. She loved him after all. How stupid he had been. Of course! She had told him that her body belonged to Sir William; she had not said who had her heart, would not say, but now he knew. It had been stupid to bring her here. He should have taken her away, despite her protests. Now he had delivered her up to a man who would abuse her, or worse.

  Before he had time to think they were in the hall. Sir William was standing at the hearth talking to his steward. Without realising what he was doing, Hugh looked round the room to see how many men he would have to fight. The hall was full of armed men milling about. He recognised few of them. His father had finally taken to heart the threat to his life and hired mercenaries to protect him. Hugh paused when he saw Stephen talking to one of their father’s wards. His father had not taken that part of the threat seriously, then.

  “Hugh? I thought you were dead.” His father advanced towards him. He did not look happy to see his heir in much better health.

  “I managed to find a healer prepared to nurse me back to health.”

  Sir William followed his glance towards Alais, but stopped when he saw Edmund. “Where have you been? You were ordered to bring my wife here.”

  Edmund bowed. “I have brought her.” He indicated Alais and Sir William’s face darkened.

  “This is my wife? Come here girl.”

  Alais pulled down the hood of her tunic and stepped forward without a backward glance. Hugh started an involuntary step forward, but Edmund trod on his foot and he had to stop.

  “So, this is my wife who dresses like a man and rides to London with lies about my son. Where have you been? You should have been here a month ago.”

  “I was repaying a debt.”

  “A debt? How?”

  Hugh felt himself grow hot with anger. His father was capable of much, but he could not watch him make such insinuations about Alais in front of all these men.

  “By saving your son’s life.” Alais spoke quickly and clearly.

  “Whore!” shouted Sir William and struck Alais so hard in the face that she fell to the ground stunned.

  “No!” Now Hugh started forward in earnest, but found a blade cutting into his throat.

  Sir William ignored Alais and took two paces towards his son. “Do you think I would not realise that you and the traitor’s daughter were in league together? Do you think I am a fool? She wants revenge and you want her.”

  “We are not in league together,” Hugh ground out through clenched teeth, trying to gauge the strength of the man holding the blade to his throat. “It is Stephen who threatens you, not me. I have only to wait for you to die. Why would I seek to hasten that day?”

  “So that you can take my wife, although I am sure that you have already availed yourself of her.”

  “He has not!” shouted Alais as she pulled herself up from the floor to stand unsteadily in front of Sir William. Her cheek was already bruising from the blow. He grabbed her arm and pulled her in front of him, where she swayed uncertainly. Hugh struggled ineffectually against the blade and felt it bite deeper into his skin. Sir William brought his mouth down on Alais’ mouth in a hard, brutal kiss. When his father lifted his head, Hugh could see blood on her lips.

  “We shall see,” said Sir William, quietly. “Take her to my bedchamber and lock her in,” he ordered the steward. “I will take you to wife this night and if I find that you are not a virgin you will not
see the sun rise.”

  Hugh began to struggle against the man holding him.

  “You cannot serve her if you are dead,” hissed Edmund from behind him. In his anger and despair Hugh almost ignored the wisdom of his words.

  The steward took the stumbling Alais up the stairs accompanied by two armed men. Still she did not turn back to look at Hugh.

  “Now for my heir.” Having watched Alais mount the steps, Sir William turned his attention back to his son. “You will leave this house. If you attempt to return, my men will kill you.”

  “There was nothing between us,” shouted Hugh. “Edmund was with us all the time.”

  “You fool. Do you think I would take the word of a peasant who would lie for you without question? Get out of here.”

  Hugh and Edmund were manhandled out of the hall and into the yard. “This is Lady Alais’ horse,” said Hugh as Full Moon was brought to him.

  “She has no need of a horse,” said the man who still held his sword to Hugh’s throat. They were accompanied by five heavily armed men until they reached Petersfield, then Hugh and Edmund were alone.

  Hugh immediately turned Full Moon around and made to return to Liss.

  “Are you mad?” Edmund caught hold of the reigns and pulled the horse to a halt.

  “You know what he will do to Alais?”

  Edmund sighed. “I do not mean, do not go back. I mean at least let them get back before we leave, so that we do not run into them. That way we might make it there alive. They will be expecting us to go back.”

  “We will be too late.”

  “We will be far too late if we are dead.”

  “You are coming with me?”

  Edmund snorted as if the question did not merit an answer. “You have a plan?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are we going back?”

  Hugh paused. Should he tell Edmund? “I am going to kill my father.”

  “You will be hanged...and you will still need a plan.” Normally, Hugh was grateful for Edmund’s dogged insistence on making him plan before he acted, but all he could see was Alais’ abused body dead and decaying before he arrived to help her.