Epic Historial Collection (62 page)

“Is he a good man?” Aliena asked.

“I hope so. I really don't know. On the day the Hamleighs brought me to Winchester, before they locked me up in here, I found myself alone with him, just for a few moments, and I knew it would be my only chance. I gave him the belt, and begged him to keep it for you. Fifty bezants is worth five pounds of silver.”

Five pounds. As this news sank in Aliena realized that the money would transform their existence. They would not be destitute; they would no longer have to live from hand to mouth. They could buy bread, and a pair of boots to replace those painful clogs, and even a couple of cheap ponies if they needed to travel. It did not solve all their problems, but it took away that frightening feeling of living constantly on the edge of a life-or-death crisis. She would not have to be thinking all the time of how they were going to survive. Instead she could turn her attention to something constructive—like getting Father out of this awful place. She said: “When we've got the money, what shall we do? We must get you freed.”

“I'm not coming out,” he said harshly. “Forget about that. If I weren't dying already they'd have hanged me.”

Aliena gasped. How could he talk that way?

“Why are you shocked?” he said. “The king has to get rid of me, but this way I won't be on his conscience.”

Richard said: “Father, this place is not well guarded while the king is away. With a few men I believe I could break you out.”

Aliena knew that was not going to happen. Richard did not have the ability or the experience to organize a rescue, and he was too young to persuade men to follow him. She was afraid Father would wound Richard by pouring scorn on the proposal, but all he said was: “Don't even think about it. If you break in here I'll refuse to go out with you.”

Aliena knew there was no point in arguing with him once he had made up his mind. But it broke her heart to think of him ending his days in this stinking jail. However, it occurred to her that there was a lot she could do to make him more comfortable here. She said: “Well, if you're going to stay here, we can clean the place up and get fresh rushes. We'll bring hot food in for you every day. We'll get some candles, and perhaps we could borrow a Bible for you to read. You can have a fire—”

“Stop!” he said. “You're not going to do any of that. I will not have my children wasting their lives hanging around a jailhouse waiting for an old man to die.”

Tears came to Aliena's eyes again. “But we can't leave you like this!”

He ignored her, which was his normal response to people who foolishly contradicted him. “Your dear mother had a sister, your Aunt Edith. She lives in the village of Huntleigh, on the road to Gloucester, with her husband, who is a knight. You are to go there.”

It occurred to Aliena that they could still see Father at intervals. And perhaps he would permit his in-laws to make him more comfortable. She tried to remember Aunt Edith and Uncle Simon. She had not seen them since Mama died. She had a vague recollection of a thin, nervous woman like her mother and a big, hearty man who ate and drank a lot. “Will they look after us?” she said uncertainly.

“Of course. They're your kin.”

Aliena wondered whether that was sufficient reason for a modest knightly family to welcome two large and hungry youngsters into their home; but Father said it would be all right, and she trusted him. “What will we do?” she said.

“Richard will be a squire to his uncle and learn the arts of knighthood. You will be lady-in-waiting to Aunt Edith until you marry.”

As they talked, Aliena felt as if she had been carrying a heavy weight for miles, and had not noticed the pain in her back until she put the burden down. Now that Father was taking charge, it seemed to her that the responsibility of the last few days had been far too much for her to bear. And his authority and ability to control the situation, even when he was sick in jail, gave her comfort and took the edge off her sorrow, for it seemed unnecessary to worry about the person who was in charge.

Now he became even more magisterial. “Before you leave me, I want you both to swear an oath.”

Aliena was shocked. He had always counseled against oath-taking.
To swear an oath is to put your soul at risk
, he would say.
Never take an oath unless you're sure you would rather die than break it
. And he was here because of an oath: the other barons had broken their word and accepted Stephen as king, but Papa had refused. He would rather die than break his oath, and here he was dying.

“Give me your sword,” he said to Richard.

Richard drew his sword and handed it over.

Father took it and reversed it, holding out the hilt. “Kneel down.”

Richard knelt in front of Father.

“Put your hand on the hilt.” Father paused, as if gathering his strength; then his voice rang out like a peal of bells. “Swear by Almighty God, and Jesus Christ, and all the saints, that you will not rest until you are earl of Shiring and lord of all the lands I ruled.”

Aliena was surprised and somewhat awestruck. She had expected Father to demand some general promise, such as to tell the truth always and fear God; but no, he was giving Richard a very specific task, one that might take a lifetime.

Richard took a deep breath and spoke with a shake in his voice. “I swear by Almighty God, and Jesus Christ, and all the saints, that I will not rest until I am earl of Shiring, and lord of all the lands you ruled.”

Papa sighed, as if he had completed an onerous task. Then he surprised Aliena again. He turned and proffered the hilt of the sword to her. “Swear by Almighty God, and Jesus Christ, and all the saints, that you will take care of your brother Richard until he has fulfilled his vow.”

A sense of doom swamped Aliena. This was to be their fate, then: Richard would avenge Father, and she would take care of Richard. For her it would be a mission of revenge, for if Richard became earl, William Hamleigh would lose his inheritance. It flashed across her mind that no one had asked
her
how she wanted to spend her life; but the foolish thought was gone as fast as it came. This was her destiny, and it was a fit and proper one. She was not unwilling, but she knew this was a fateful moment, and she had a sense of doors closing behind her and the path of her life being fixed irrevocably. She put her hand on the hilt of the sword and took the oath. Her voice surprised her by its strength and resolution. “I swear by Almighty God, and Jesus Christ, and all the saints, that I will take care of my brother Richard until he has fulfilled his vow.” She crossed herself. It was done. I've sworn an oath, she thought, and I must die rather than break my word. The thought gave her a kind of angry satisfaction.

“There,” Father said, and his voice sounded weak again. “Now you need never come to this place again.”

Aliena could not believe he meant it. “Uncle Simon can bring us to see you now and again, and we can make sure you're warm and fed—”

“No,” he said sternly. “You have a task to fulfill. You're not going to waste your energies visiting a jail.”

She heard that don't-argue note in his voice again, but she could not help protesting against the harshness of his decision. “Then let us come again just once, to bring you a few comforts!”

“I want no comforts.”

“Please…”

“Never.”

She gave up. He was always at least as hard on himself as he was on everyone else. “Very well,” she said, and it came out in a sob.

“Now you'd better go,” he said.

“Already?”

“Yes. This is a place of despair and corruption and death. Now that I've seen you, and I know you're well, and you've promised to rebuild what we have lost, I'm content. The only thing that could destroy my happiness would be to see you wasting your time visiting a jailhouse. Now go.”

“Papa, no!” she protested, although she knew it was no use.

“Listen,” he said, and his voice softened at last. “I've lived an honorable life, and now I'm going to die. I've confessed my sins. I'm ready for eternity. Pray for my soul. Go.”

Aliena leaned forward and kissed his brow. Her tears fell freely on his face. “Goodbye, Father dear,” she whispered. She got to her feet.

Richard bent down and kissed him. “Goodbye, Father,” he said unsteadily.

“May God bless you both, and help you keep your vows,” Father said.

Richard left him the candle. They went to the door. At the threshold Aliena turned and looked back at him in the unsteady light. His fleshless face was set in an expression of calm determination that was very familiar. She looked at him until tears obscured her vision. Then she turned away, went through the lobby of the jailhouse, and stumbled out into the open air.

III

Richard led the way. Aliena was stunned with grief. It was as if Father had already died; but it was worse, for he was still suffering. She heard Richard asking for directions but she paid no attention. She gave no thought to where they were going until he stopped outside a small wooden church with a lean-to hovel beside it. Looking around, Aliena saw that they were in a poor district of small tumbledown houses and filthy streets in which fierce dogs chased rats through the refuse and barefoot children played in the mud. “This must be St. Michael's,” Richard said.

The lean-to at the side of the church had to be the priest's house. It had one shuttered window. The door stood open. They went in.

There was a fire in the middle of the single room. The place was furnished with a roughhewn table, a few stools, and a beer barrel in the corner. The floor was strewn with rushes. Near the fire a man sat on a chair drinking from a large cup. He was a small, thin man of about fifty years, with a red nose and wispy gray hair. He wore ordinary everyday clothes, a dirty undershirt with a brown tunic, and clogs.

“Father Ralph?” said Richard dubiously.

“What if I am?” he replied.

Aliena sighed. Why did people manufacture trouble when there was already so much of it in the world? But she had no energy left for dealing with bad temper, so she left it to Richard, who said: “Does that mean yes?”

The question was answered for them. A voice from outside called: “Ralph? Are you in?” A moment later a middle-aged woman came in and gave the priest a hunk of bread and a large bowl of something that smelled like meat stew. For once the smell of meat did not make Aliena's mouth water: she was too numb even to be hungry. The woman was probably one of Ralph's parishioners, for her clothes were of the same poor quality as his own. He took the food from her without a word and began to eat. She glanced incuriously at Aliena and Richard and went out again.

Richard said: “Well,
Father
Ralph, I am the son of Bartholomew, the former earl of Shiring.”

The man paused in his eating and looked up at them. There was hostility in his face, and something else Aliena could not read—fear? Guilt? He returned his attention to his dinner, but mumbled: “What do you want with me?”

Aliena felt a tug of fear.

“You know what I want,” Richard said. “My money. Fifty bezants.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Ralph said.

Aliena stared at him incredulously. This could not be happening. Father had left money for them with this priest—he had said so! Father did not make mistakes about such things.

Richard had gone white. He said: “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don't know what you're talking about. Now piss off.” He took another spoonful of stew.

The man was lying, of course; but what could they do about it? Richard pressed on stubbornly. “My father left money with you—fifty bezants. He told you to give it to me. Where is it?”

“Your father gave me nothing.”

“He said he did—”

“He lied, then.”

That was one thing you could be sure Father had not done. Aliena spoke for the first time. “You're the liar, and we know it.”

Ralph shrugged. “Complain to the sheriff.”

“You'll be in trouble if we do. They cut off the hands of thieves in this city.”

The shadow of fear briefly crossed the priest's face, but it was gone in a moment, and his reply was defiant. “It will be my word against the word of a jailed traitor—if your father lives long enough to give evidence.”

Aliena realized he was right. There would be no independent witnesses to say that Father had given him the money, for the whole idea was that it was a secret, money that could not be taken away by the king or Percy Hamleigh or any of the other carrion crows who flocked around the possessions of a ruined man. Things were just as they had been in the forest, Aliena realized bitterly. People could rob her and Richard with impunity, because they were the children of a fallen noble. Why am I frightened of these men? she asked herself angrily. Why aren't they frightened of me?

Richard looked at her and said in a low voice: “He's right, isn't he?”