The Traitor's Daughter by April Munday Read Free Book Online Page A

you mean to tend her here and have her carried to
the steward’s house to sleep?”
    “Yes, my lady. This is near enough for them to bring
water for a bath. I thought to bathe her first, for cleansing and then a salve
for her bruises and cuts. Then a potion for forgetfulness.”
    Neither of them spoke of what Marion must forget, though
Alais thought that there was little chance of her remembering what had happened
to her, her husband or her son. Nonetheless, she set herself to helping the
woman, who seemed more prepared to accept her assistance than she had the day
before. Although she was desperate to see her mother and counted every second
spent here rather than with her a loss, Alais worked to the best of her
considerable ability. Marion had also suffered because of the French and she
prayed that as she was helping Marion, so someone was helping Lady Eleanor, for
Sir Hugh must have left her with people he trusted. By the time the stable boy
came to tell her that everything was ready in the yard, Marion had been bathed and
her many wounds attended to and helped into a clean shift. Alais left the
servant to administer the potion for forgetfulness, saying another prayer for
its efficacy as she left the room.
     
    Hugh watched Alais walk into the manor house and
marvelled that a woman who had been through what she had been through could still
think to offer help to a servant’s daughter. He allowed himself a moment’s rest
by leaning against the wall of the barn, allowing his eyes to close for a few
moments. He was tired, but could not permit himself the rest he needed. There
was too much to be done and now that his steward was incapable, he would have
to do much of it himself. As he rested, his thoughts turned to Lady Alais. How
calm and composed she seemed this morning, far removed from the screaming
harridan he had met less than twenty-four hours previously. Now she carried
herself with assurance. She, too, looked tired and he guessed that she had had
a restless night. Nonetheless she was clean and tidy and looked like the
nobleman’s daughter that she was. Doubtless she had busied herself with the
affairs of the manor in his absence. The thought crossed his mind that she and
Matthew would make a good team to run his manor and it made him smile. Despite
his first, immediate impression of her as a scared and helpless woman he now
saw that there was much more to her than that. Then, she had been desperate for
help and, now that he had seen what had been done in the town, he could only be
surprised that she had kept her sanity. As the day had gone on he had been more
impressed with her as his thoughts turned more often to her than they should.
    It had been her face that had kept him going through the
dreadful day and night since he had last seen her. Her hope in him had inspired
him. He knew it was wrong and he knew it imperilled his mortal soul, but there
was something about this woman that met a need in him. It was as if she was the
beacon of light in the dark world into which he had had been immersed for so
long. He shook his head; his own private darkness seemed nothing in comparison
to the darkness he had witnessed the day before. He had seen things in this
raid that he had never seen as a soldier and hoped never to see again.
    Hugh was proud to be a soldier, even a paid soldier. It
was all he had ever wanted and he had worked hard, both on testing his courage
and on building his physical strength. In his time as a page at court he had
listened to discussions and had himself discussed strategies of past battles
and he had learned and grown until he was confident in his abilities, until the
time had come for him to be tested.
    While others sought riches and worldly goods, he wanted
only to serve his king in the field of battle. This war with the French seemed
to be what he had been waiting for. He had been a knight with few resources
save physical strength and courage, a second son, whose older brother had grown
into a