Epic Historial Collection (141 page)

BOOK: Epic Historial Collection
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Richard said: “He used trickery. He got inside the castle surreptitiously, with a few men, before the alarm was raised. But Prior Philip is right: you couldn't get away with that nowadays. People are much more wary.”

“I could get in,” Aliena said confidently, although as she spoke the words her heart raced with fear.

“Of course you could—you're a woman,” Richard said. “But you couldn't do anything once you were inside. That's how come they'd let you in. You're harmless.”

“Don't be so damned arrogant,” she flared. “I've killed to protect you, and that's more than you've ever done for me, you ungrateful pig, so don't you dare call me harmless.”

“All right, you're not harmless,” he said angrily. “What would you do, once inside the castle?”

Aliena's anger evaporated. What would I do? she thought fearfully. To hell with it, I've got at least as much courage and resourcefulness as that pig William. “What did William do?”

“Kept the drawbridge down and the gate open long enough for the main attacking force to get inside.”

“Then that's what I'll do,” Aliena said with her heart in her mouth.

“But how?” Richard said skeptically.

Aliena remembered giving comfort to a fourteen-year-old girl who was frightened of a storm. “The countess owes me a favor,” she said. “And she hates her husband.”

 

They rode through the night, Aliena and Richard and fifty of his best men, and reached the vicinity of Earlscastle at dawn. They halted in the forest across the fields from the castle. Aliena dismounted, took off her cloak of Flanders wool and her soft leather boots, and put on a coarse peasant blanket and a pair of clogs. One of the men handed her a basket of fresh eggs packed in straw, which she slung over her arm.

Richard looked her up and down and said: “Perfect. A peasant girl bringing produce for the castle kitchen.”

Aliena swallowed hard. Yesterday she had been full of fire and boldness, but now that she was about to carry out her plan she was scared.

Richard kissed her cheek. He said: “When I hear the bell, I'll say the Paternoster slowly once, then the advance party will start out. All you have to do is lull the guards into a false sense of security, so that ten of my men can get across the fields and into the castle without causing alarm.”

Aliena nodded. “Just make sure the main group doesn't break cover until the advance party is across the drawbridge.”

He smiled. “I'll be leading the main group. Don't worry. Good luck.”

“You too.”

She walked away.

She emerged from the woodland and set out across the open fields toward the castle she had left on that awful day sixteen years ago. Seeing the place again, she had a vivid, terrifying memory of that other morning, the air damp after the storm, and the two horses charging out of the gate across the rain-sodden fields; Richard on the war-horse and she on the smaller mount, both mortally afraid. She had been denying what had happened, deliberately forgetting, chanting to herself in time with the horse's hoofbeats: “I can't
remember
I can't
remember
I
can't
I
can't
I
can't
.” It had worked: for a long time afterward she had been unable to recall the rape, remembering that something terrible had happened but never recollecting the details. Not until she fell in love with Jack had it come back to her; and then the memory had so terrified her that she had been unable to respond to his love. Thank God he had been so patient. That was how she knew his love was strong; because he had put up with so much and still loved her.

As she came closer to the castle she conjured up some good memories, to calm her nerves. She had lived here as a child, with her father and Richard. They had been wealthy and secure. She had played on the castle ramparts with Richard, hung around in the kitchen and scrounged bits of sweet pastry, and sat beside her father at dinner in the great hall. I didn't know I was happy, she thought. I had no idea how fortunate I was to have nothing to be afraid of.

Those good times will begin again today, she said to herself, if only I can do this right.

She had confidently said
The countess owes me a favor, and she hates her husband
, but as they rode through the night she had thought of all the things that could go wrong. First, she might not get into the castle at all: something might have happened to put the garrison on the alert, the guards might be suspicious, or she might just be unlucky enough to come across an obstructive sentry. Second, when she was inside she might not be able to persuade Elizabeth to betray her husband. It was a year and a half since Aliena had met Elizabeth in the storm: women could get used to the most vicious men, in time, and Elizabeth might be reconciled to her fate by now. Third, even if Elizabeth was willing, she might not have the authority or the nerve to do what Aliena wanted. She had been a frightened little girl last time they met, and it could be that the castle guard would refuse to obey her.

Aliena felt unnaturally alert as she crossed the drawbridge: she could see and hear everything with abnormal clarity. The garrison was just waking up. A few bleary-eyed guards were lounging on the ramparts, yawning and coughing, and an old dog sat in the gateway scratching itself. She pulled her hood forward to hide her face, in case anyone should recognize her, and passed under the arch.

There was a slovenly sentry on duty at the gatehouse, sitting on a bench eating a huge hunk of bread. His clothing was disarrayed and his sword belt was hanging from a hook at the back of the room. With her heart in her mouth, and a smile that belied her fear, Aliena showed him her basket of eggs.

He waved her in with an impatient gesture.

She had passed the first obstacle.

Discipline was slack. It was understandable: this was a token force, left behind while the best men went to war. All the excitement was elsewhere.

Until today.

So far, so good. Aliena crossed the lower courtyard with her nerves on edge. It was very odd to be a stranger walking into the place that had been her home, to be an infiltrator where once she had had the right to go anywhere she pleased. She looked around, careful not to be too blatantly curious. Most of the wooden buildings had changed: the stables were bigger, the kitchen had been moved and there was a new stone-built armory. The place seemed dirtier than it used to be. But the chapel was still there, the chapel where she and Richard had sat out that awful storm, shocked and numb and freezing cold. A handful of castle servants were beginning their morning chores. One or two men-at-arms moved about the compound. They looked menacing, but perhaps that was because she was aware that they would have killed her if they had known what she was going to do.

If her plan worked, by tonight she would once again be mistress of this castle. The thought was thrilling but unreal, like a marvelous, impossible dream.

She went into the kitchen. A boy was stoking the fire and a young girl was slicing carrots. Aliena smiled brightly at them and said: “Twenty-four fresh eggs.” She put her basket on the table.

The boy said: “Cook's not up yet. You'll have to wait for your money.”

“Can I get a bite of bread for my breakfast?”

“In the great hall.”

“Thank you.” She left her basket and went out again.

She crossed the second drawbridge to the upper compound. She smiled at the guard in the second gateway. He had uncombed hair and bloodshot eyes. He looked her up and down and said: “And where are you going?” His voice was playfully challenging.

“To get some breakfast,” she said without stopping.

He leered. “I've got something for you to eat,” he called after her.

“I might bite it off, though,” she said over her shoulder.

They did not suspect her for a moment. It did not occur to them that a woman could be dangerous. How foolish they were. Women could do most of the things men did. Who was left in charge when the men were fighting wars, or going on crusades? There were women carpenters, dyers, tanners, bakers and brewers. Aliena herself was one of the most important merchants in the county. The duties of an abbess, running a nunnery, were exactly the same as those of an abbot. Why, it had been a woman, the Empress Maud, who caused the civil war that had gone on for fifteen years! Yet these wooden-headed men-at-arms did not expect a woman to be an enemy agent because it was not the normal thing.

She ran up the steps of the keep and entered the hall. There was no steward at the door. That was presumably because the master was away. In future I will make sure there is always a steward at the door, Aliena thought, whether the master is at home or not.

Fifteen or twenty people were eating breakfast around a small table. One or two of them glanced up at her, but nobody took any notice. The hall was quite clean, she observed, and there were one or two feminine touches: freshly whitewashed walls, and sweet-smelling herbs mixed with the rushes on the floor. Elizabeth had made her mark in a small way. That was a hopeful sign.

Without speaking to the people around the table, Aliena walked across the hall to the staircase in the corner, trying to look as if she had every right to be there, but expecting at any moment to be stopped. She got to the foot of the stairs without attracting attention. Then, as she ran up toward the private apartments on the top floor, she heard someone say: “You can't go up there—hey, you!” She ignored the voice. She heard someone come after her.

She reached the top, panting. Would Elizabeth sleep in the main bedroom, the one Aliena's father had occupied? Or would she have a bed of her own in the room that had been Aliena's? She hesitated for an instant, her heart pounding. She guessed that by now William had tired of having Elizabeth sleep with him every night, and probably allowed her a room of her own. Aliena knocked at the smaller room and opened the door.

She had been right. Elizabeth was sitting by the fire, wearing a nightshirt, brushing her hair. She looked up, frowned, and then recognized Aliena. “It's you!” she said. “What a surprise!” She seemed pleased.

Aliena heard heavy footsteps on the stairs behind her. “May I come in?” she said.

“Of course—and welcome!”

Aliena stepped inside and closed the door quickly. She crossed the room to where Elizabeth sat. A man burst in, saying, “Hey, you, who do you think you are?” and came after Aliena as if to seize her.

“Stay where you are!” she said in her most commanding voice. He hesitated. She said: “I come to see the countess, with a message from Earl William, and you would have learned that earlier if you had been guarding the door instead of stuffing your face with horsebread.”

He looked guilty.

Elizabeth said: “It's all right, Edgar, I know this lady.”

“Very well, countess,” he said. He went out and closed the door.

I made it, Aliena thought. I got in.

She looked around while her heartbeat returned to normal. The room was not very different from when it had been hers. There were dried petals in a bowl, a pretty tapestry on the wall, some books, and a trunk for clothes. The bed was in the same place—in fact it was the same bed—and on the pillow was a rag doll just like the one Aliena had had. It made her feel old.

“This used to be my room,” she said.

“I know,” said Elizabeth.

Aliena was surprised. She had not told Elizabeth about her past.

“I've found out all about you since that terrible storm,” Elizabeth explained. She added: “I admire you so much.” She had the gleam of hero-worship in her eyes.

That was a good sign.

“And William?” Aliena said. “Are you any happier, living with him?”

Elizabeth looked away. “Well,” she said, “I have my own room now, and he's been away a lot. In fact everything's much better.” Then she began to cry.

Aliena sat on the bed and put her arms around the girl. Elizabeth cried with deep, wrenching sobs, and tears flooded down her cheeks. In between sobs she gasped: “I—hate—him! I—wish—I—could—die!”

Her anguish was so pitiful, and she was so young, that Aliena was close to tears herself. She was painfully aware that Elizabeth's fate could easily have been her own. She patted Elizabeth's back as she would have done with Sally.

Eventually Elizabeth became calmer. She wiped her wet face with the sleeve of her nightshirt. “I'm so afraid of having a baby,” she said miserably. “I'm terrified because I know how he would mistreat the child.”

“I understand,” Aliena said. She had once been terrified by the thought that she might be pregnant with William's child.

Elizabeth looked at her wide-eyed. “Is it true what they say, about…what he did to you?”

“Yes, it's true. I was your age when it happened.”

For a moment they looked into one another's eyes, brought close by a shared loathing. Suddenly Elizabeth did not look like a child anymore.

Aliena said: “You could get free of him, if you want. Today.”

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