No Dark Place (20 page)

The rain was still drumming against the shutters.
Her bed, unoccupied for most of the night, was cold. She was sore between her legs.

But she was happy. Something irrevocable had happened between her and Hugh this night. Now they truly belonged to each other.

I can bear anything as long as I have you.

He had said that to her and she knew it was true. It had been like that between them almost from the moment they had met. He had never been a stranger. It was almost as if she had recognized him, as if they had known each other before and were only waiting for the time when they could come together again.

Beneath her joy, however, ran an irresistible current of fear.

What was the truth about Roger’s murder?

She had not said this to Hugh, but she could not help but wonder why, if Walter Crespin had killed the earl to avenge his brother, he had waited a full year to do it.

Perhaps it was done in a moment of uncontrollable anger
, she thought.
It must have been. There could be no other explanation for murdering a man in front of his son
.

But Cristen could not rid herself of the conviction that there was more to the story than they already knew. Hugh had told her that he was going to seek out Father Anselm, who had been the one to find Roger’s dead body in the chapel.

“I need someone to corroborate Alan’s tale about Ivo,” he had said as they lay together after a second, heartstoppingly tender lovemaking. “There is always
the possibility that he told me that terrible story in order to get me to exonerate Guy.”

Cristen’s brain agreed that Hugh needed to seek out the priest. It was her heart that feared for what else he might learn.

H
ugh met Cristen at the breaking of fast in the hall. The two of them exchanged a single, veiled look before attending assiduously to their bread and ale.

The rain had finally stopped, although the hall was gloomy due to the lack of sunshine. Nigel asked Hugh if he would like to join the rest of the knights on the practice field that morning.

Hugh finished chewing his bread, then said, “Actually, sir, I have been thinking that I might return to Evesham.”

These words made Nigel look grim. At the moment, the king was in the Thames Valley besieging Wallingford Castle—a difficult task, as Brian fitz Count was well enough supplied to hold out against him for years. The result of Stephen’s attempt to blockade Wallingford was that the west was left wide open to the Earl of Gloucester, who had been recently joined by his sister—courtesy of Stephen.

Considering all this, Nigel thought he knew the reason for Hugh’s sudden desire to revisit Evesham. He said in a hard voice, “You are going to accept
Gloucester’s offer to support your claim to the earldom, then?”

“No,” Hugh said. “I desire only to speak to Father Anselm, and he was at Evesham when last I saw him.”

He took another bite of his bread.

Nigel watched him. The terrible strained look the boy had worn all day yesterday was gone, and he was eating as if he were truly hungry.

Nigel asked cautiously, “Why do you wish to speak to the priest?”

Hugh drank some ale. “I want to see if he can corroborate a story I heard at Chippenham.”

Nigel stared at Hugh’s face. It might be more relaxed than it had been yesterday, but it was as unreadable as ever. “What story was that?” he dared to inquire.

“I would rather not say until I know that it is true,” Hugh replied pleasantly. He rinsed his fingers in the bowl of water that had been provided for that purpose.

For some reason, Nigel found himself shooting a look at his daughter. She was feeding a piece of bread to one of her dogs. Her face was as unrevealing as Hugh’s.

Nigel had a feeling that he was venturing into dangerously deep waters.

He cleared his throat. “I have been thinking, lad, that perhaps you and Guy might come to an understanding that you would recognize his right to the
title if he would formally recognize you as his heir. He has no sons. after all…”

His voice petered out under the ironic look in Hugh’s gray eyes. “I thought you wished to see Guy replaced because you held him responsible for the murder of Lord Roger—and of Geoffrey as well.”

Nigel revolved his ale cup in his fingers and replied wearily, “Roger and Geoffrey are dead and nothing can bring them back. The way things have fallen out thus far, I think that it might be wisest for you to settle for what you can get, Hugh. Certainly it would be safer.”

“I have to know the truth,” Hugh said with a burst of sudden, fierce intensity. “Can’t you understand that? If it turns out that Guy had nothing to do with Roger’s or Geoffrey’s death, then perhaps I would consider the course you have just named. But first I must know the truth!”

Nigel couldn’t answer him.

Pale sunlight slanted in through the east windows of the hall. The clouds were evidently lifting.

Cristen said, “Perhaps you could send a few of the knights to Evesham with Hugh as an escort, Father.”

“I don’t need an escort,” Hugh said.

“Yes, you do,” Nigel contradicted him.

Hugh’s mouth set in a stubborn line. Before he could object farther, however, Nigel said, “I would never forgive myself if something happened to you, Hugh. You must allow me to safeguard your journey.”

“Of course he will allow you to do that, Father,” Cristen said.

Silence from Hugh.

Finally he said, “Thank you, sir. You are very kind.”

Nigel sighed with relief and leaned back in his chair. “When do you wish to leave?”

“Immediately, if you don’t mind.”

“I will tell Thomas and two of the other knights to make ready,” Nigel said.

“Thank you,” Hugh said again.

Nigel pushed back his chair and stood up.

“I will go to my herb garden and get you some more of my headache potion,” Cristen said.

“I’ll come with you,” Hugh replied.

They stood inside the shelter of the herb garden shed, holding each other close.

“I wish we could get married right now,” he said fiercely.

“I know.”

He rubbed his cheek against the silky brown hair on the top of her head. “Your father’s idea may not be a bad one after all. If I could get Guy to name me as his heir, then we would be able to marry.”

“We’ll see,” she said. “First you must find out the truth you need to know. After that we’ll think about Guy.”

“All right.” His arms around her tightened. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you.”

She wanted to cry and fought very hard not to.

“I know,” she said again.

“I’ll talk to this priest. He will know if Alan’s story was true.”

“Hugh…what if your mother is still at Evesham?”

She felt him shiver. “Then I will see her. I can’t keep running away from her forever.”

“If Alan’s story was true, then I think she is very much to be pitied,” Cristen said.

Hugh’s shivering increased. “Aye. I suppose so.”

She tipped up her head and kissed him on his jaw. “Let me mix up that headache potion for you to take with you.”

Reluctantly, he loosened his arms. “All right.”

She went to the shelves and took down a stoppered bottle. He watched her small, competent hands as they mixed the medicine.

“What I could really use is something to keep me from getting sick to my stomach,” he said. “There’s nothing more humiliating than heaving up your guts in some stranger’s house.”

“I’ll give you a flagon of barley water as well.”

She had almost finished when they heard the sound of feet pounding down the path outside the shed. The door of the shed opened and Brian’s flushed face peered in.

“Hugh! A rider has just come from Malmesbury with news that the king is besieging the castle. His army is there right now!”

Hugh’s startled eyes flew to Cristen. The formerly prosperous little town of Malmesbury was but a few
miles to the northwest of Somerford. They had buried Geoffrey in the abbey churchyard there shortly before one of Gloucester’s men, Robert fitz Hubert, had captured the castle and burned the town. The castle was still held by fitz Hubert for the empress.

“Go with Brian,” Cristen told Hugh. “I’ll come as soon as I’ve finished here.”

He flashed her a smile and was out the door.

The visitor who had brought them the news was one of the monks from the abbey. He was talking to Nigel in front of the fire in the Great Hall when Hugh came in.

Nigel signaled for Hugh to join them.

“This is Brother Justin, Hugh,” Nigel said. “Abbot Theobold sent him to inform us of what is happening in Malmesbury.”

“I thought Stephen was besieging Wallingford,” Hugh said.

“Aye, so did we all,” Brother Justin replied. He was a man of about fifty, but tall and lean and strong-looking. “Apparently he decided that Wallingford was too much for him and turned west. First he stormed and took the castle at South Cerney, which Miles of Gloucester’s son-in-law had fortified to serve as a link between Gloucester and Wallingford.” Bitterness edged the monk’s voice. “Then he turned toward Malmesbury.”

“Both South Cerney and Malmesbury castles are within the borders of Wiltshire,” Nigel said to Hugh.
“Do you think that the king has attacked them in order to put Guy in his debt?”

“Aye,” Hugh returned cynically. “And I suspect that Stephen has every intention of collecting on that debt one of these days.”

Nigel turned back to Brother Justin. “Is there aught that we can do for the town, Brother?”

“Abbot Theobold was hoping that perhaps you could take in some of the townspeople until the siege is finished,” the monk replied. “Many of them have taken refuge in the abbey, but we have not the space nor the provisions to shelter everyone who is fleeing the bombardment.”

“Of course we will help,” Nigel said. “Those poor townsfolk! They had just started to rebuild Malmesbury after fitz Hubert burned it such a short time ago.”

“Thank you, Sir Nigel,” the monk said gratefully. “I will tell my abbot of your gracious offer.”

At this moment, Cristen came into the hall.

“Here is my daughter,” Nigel said, raising his hand to beckon her over. “You must allow her to offer you some refreshment, Brother, before your return journey.”

“Thank you, Sir Nigel,” the monk said again. “You are very kind.”

“Cristen, will you see to it that Brother Justin has something to eat and to drink?” Nigel said as she joined the men in front of the fire.

“Of course, Father.”

He answered the question in her eyes. “It seems that the townsfolk of Malmesbury need a refuge from
the siege. Many of them have fled to the abbey, but there is not room enough there to accommodate all who have begged for shelter. I have said that we would take in some of them until the siege is lifted.”

“Of course we will,” Cristen said with warm sympathy. “What horrors those poor people have been through this last month!”

“Aye,” Brother Justin said grimly.

“Come with me, Brother,” Cristen said, and led him off in the direction of the pantry. They were trailed by the dogs.

Hugh said flatly, “It is Bristol all over again. The strategic importance of Wallingford is incalculable to the empress. It is imperative that Stephen take it. He cannot hope to reduce either Bristol or Gloucester with Wallingford sitting astride his lines of communication.”

Nigel looked unhappy. “Wallingford is a redoubtable bastion, Hugh.”

“So it is. That is why it is so valuable to the empress and why it is so vital that Stephen take it.”

“He has left a strong enough garrison behind to keep it in check,” Nigel pointed out.

“It is not enough,” Hugh said shortly.

Nigel sighed. He very much feared that Hugh was right, although he did not like to say so.

He changed the subject.

“How would you like to ride to Malmesbury with me today?” he asked.

Hugh looked instantly wary. “Why?”

The question surprised Nigel. Hugh was not usually dense. “I must go to see the king and this seems a perfect opportunity for you to meet him,” he explained.

The wary expression on Hugh’s face did not lift. “What would be the point of that, sir?”

Nigel stared at him in exasperation. “The point is for him to meet you in person, to see you for himself.” He tried an encouraging smile. “Who knows? Perhaps you will impress him so much that he will name you Earl of Wiltshire over Guy.”

Hugh snorted with disbelief.

“You cannot lose by meeting him, Hugh,” Nigel said reasonably.

Behind them some of the servants were sweeping up the old rushes from the hall floor. Others were carrying out basins and chamberpots to be emptied in the river. Most of the knights had already gone out into the courtyard.

Hugh said, “May I ask by which name you plan to introduce me to the king?”

“By your real name, of course,” Nigel said. He was starting to get angry. “Hugh de Leon.”

Hugh shook his head. “It’s not a good idea. My identity is in limbo right now. I’ve ceased to be Hugh Corbaille, but I’ve not yet established myself as Hugh de Leon. I think I had better wait until I have a name before I meet the king.”

“You have a name,” Nigel said. “You are Hugh de Leon.” He was growing more angry by the minute. “You know you are.”

“Think for a moment about what you are proposing, sir,” the twenty-one-year-old told him kindly. “The king will not thank you for introducing me to his notice. He has made a commitment to Guy and in return he has received the support of Wiltshire—which he badly needs. As far as Stephen is concerned, I am a nuisance at best. At worst, I am a threat.”

Nigel’s lips pinched together. He hated to admit it, but what the boy said made sense. Unfortunately.

“I am afraid that you are going to side with Gloucester,” he admitted.

“I’m not ready to side with anyone just yet.” Hugh’s face was somber. “I have too many personal questions that need to be answered before I can begin to think of my future in political terms.”

There was a moment’s silence before Nigel said reluctantly, “Perhaps you are right.” His voice strengthened. “However, with the king’s forces only miles away, it is folly for you think of leaving for Evesham.”

Hugh looked unconvinced.

“You have just told me that you don’t wish to meet Stephen yet,” Nigel pointed out. “If you are stopped by one of his men, you will most certainly end up doing just that.”

It was Hugh’s turn to say reluctantly, “Perhaps you are right.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear I’m right about something for a change,” Nigel grumbled.

At that, Hugh grinned. Nigel stared in surprise at the boy’s face. He thought of the remote, closed look
Hugh had worn all day yesterday. He thought of his daylong silence.

What had happened to change him from that to this?

Nigel took an escort of knights and rode into Malmesbury to offer his homage to the king. Hugh and the rest of the knights went out hunting to bring in extra meat for the expected influx of refugees from the besieged town. Under Cristen’s direction, the castle servants put up tents in the outer bailey to shelter the new arrivals. The bread ovens went into full-time production. In the kitchen, the cook and his staff roasted pork, beef, mutton, and poultry on a spit, and prepared stews and soups in the great iron cauldrons that hung over the fire. The alewife and her staff began to work to replace the store of ale that would most certainly be drunk by the refugees.

When Hugh and the knights finally returned from the hunt, their pack horses laden down with the carcasses of deer and wild pigs and fowl, they found the bailey crammed with men, women, and what appeared to be hundreds of children.

“Judas,” Thomas said to Hugh. “That is a lot of mouths to feed.”

“It certainly is,” Hugh agreed. “I can see that we will be busy these next few days.”