Hellion (55 page)

“ ’Tis my fault, I believe,” Rolf said. “I took the more experienced men with me when the king called. We were sent to Normandy to reconnoiter for the king’s eventual invasion, and to make contact with those lords loyal to King Henry. You cannot travel in Normandy these days without a heavily armed escort. I believed at this point the Sieur de Manneville had lost interest in Langston. I left only inexperienced men to guard the keep. De Manneville probably walked right in, for those green lads would not think two knights and four men-at-arms a threat to the keep.”

The ferryman nodded. “Aye, lord, ’tis just what happened.”

“Go back, and if you are asked, say it was just a party of
travelers seeking shelter. Then, when it is dark, return to ferry us all over that we may retake Langston. See that word is brought up to the keep to see to Richard de Manneville’s special pleasure tonight, that we may capture him unawares. There is another knight, you said?”

“Aye, my lord. One Luc de Sai, and a mighty unpleasant fellow he is, too,” the ferryman replied. Then he pushed off, poling back across the Blyth to the other side.

Isabelle sneezed. “The rain is getting heavier,” she said. “How long must we wait? Is there any shelter nearby?”

“We must move back into the trees so we cannot be seen from the keep’s walls,” Hugh said. “Our party is large enough to alarm your brother should he see us, and I don’t want the gates barred to us.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rolf said. “When New Tower was constructed, we built a tunnel that exits just outside the keep’s walls for emergency purposes. When it is dark, we will ferry across, and using the night for cover, we will be able to enter the keep. There is no interior passage connecting New Tower and the original tower yet. We had intended to build it later on. When we built the tower, we opened a section of wall to fit it in, but it is accessible only by means of a door on the main level, or this secret tunnel.”

“Excellent!” Hugh smiled wolfishly. “Richard de Manneville is very superstitious, for Vivienne d’ Bretagne told me so. I have the perfect plan to remove him from Langston, and it will not cost us a single life.”

“You would be better to kill him, and his henchman,” Belle said grimly. “He will not give up the idea that he should have Langston easily. Unless he is dead, we will spend the rest of our lives wondering when he will next turn up. He will pass his erroneous idea onto his sons, and we will never be rid of the de Mannevilles. Kill him now while we have the opportunity, my lord.” She sneezed again.

“There is a cowshed nearby where the lady may shelter,” one of the Langston men said, interrupting them.

They quickly found it. Wood, not yet soaked, was gathered, and a small fire was made with it and some scraps of dried hay from within the shed. The birds were set down in a wooden enclosure that was used to contain straw for bedding the cows. The shed was crowded and soon warm with the press of bodies. They were all hungry and tired, and eager for dry clothing.

“What do you intend to do with de Manneville?” Rolf asked when they were finally settled down to wait.

Hugh smiled slowly. “The people who imprisoned Belle and me were believed by the local populace to be sorcerers. They traded on their family’s reputation to keep their serfs in check and their neighbors at bay. Richard swore fealty to them, and they promised that he should have Langston. The first time he came, after Isabelle sent him packing, he returned to these alleged sorcerers most angry. They reassured him if he would be patient, he would get his way in the matter. How they laughed at him behind his back, for they were, of course, frauds,” Hugh told Rolf, making light of the whole matter. “I, however, shall convince Richard de Manneville and his toady that I have been given some magic powers, and will punish him with my magic if he does not return home to Normandy and remain there.”

“He will never believe it!” Rolf said skeptically.

“Oh, yes he will.” Belle giggled. “When I was a little girl I always remember that Richard was fearful of certain things. If a black cat crossed his path—and we had an old tabby who kept producing black kittens—he would cross himself, turn about three times, and spit. If it thundered in winter, which it sometimes does, he would claim that it was the devil making noise. He is afraid of anything to which he cannot give a logical explanation. I am sure that with a suitable ruse, Hugh will be able to convince him that he now possesses magic powers. Nonetheless, I still think we should kill him,” Isabelle concluded. “My brother cannot be trusted.”

“Let us try to conclude this matter peacefully,” Hugh said.

They waited until it was almost dark, then rode down to the river, where the ferryman was awaiting them. The rain had finally stopped, but a fine mist was rising from the water. The Langston men were ferried across first so that in the event of a surprise attack their lord and lady would not be undefended. Rolf went in the first boatload. The last crossing was made by Hugh and Isabelle and their two falconers. The boat slid up onto the beach, and Isabelle prodded Gris off, followed by her companions. Slowly, they rode through Langston village. In the dimly lighted doorways the villagers stood in silence, but they were smiling, every last one of them.

The wind rose, and once again it began to rain as they made their way up the hill to the keep. As they had suspected, the gates were barred. Rolf led them around the walls to where the second tower now rose. Pulling away carefully arranged undergrowth, he revealed a door. Taking a key from his tunic, he fit it in the door’s lock. The door swung quietly open on well-oiled hinges. Dismounting, the others tied their horses within the shelter of the trees where they could not be seen and followed Rolf de Briard into the tunnel. He waited until they were all inside, motioning them with his hand to move forward in the passageway, and then locked the door behind him.

Taking torches from a stone container, he lit them one by one from the single stone lamp burning in the dim corridor, passing them along so that they would be able to light their way. Then, coming to the head of the line, he said, “Follow me!”

They hurried down the stone tunnel. The air was still, cold, and slightly fetid. They walked for a few short minutes, and then before them they could make out the outline of another door. Without warning it swung open and light poured into the passage. A faceless figure loomed in the opening for a short space, and both Hugh and Rolf reached for their swords.

“I thought you would come this way, my lord,” Father Bernard’s voice called out. “Welcome home! Is that my lady Isabelle I see with you?” The priest ushered them from the
tunnel into a square hallway which quickly filled up with the Langston men.

“Where are we?” Hugh asked the cleric.

“This is the entrance to New Tower from the bailey, my lord,” he answered. Then he let a tapestry that had covered the tunnel entry fall back against the door and pushed an oaken table in front of it. “Your mother is awaiting you upstairs, lady,” he told Isabelle. “I have prayed long and hard for the safe return of you both.”

“Your prayers did not go unanswered, good father,” Isabelle responded graciously. There was no need to say that she wished God had worked faster. The priest, for all his upbringing in the Norman court, was an innocent. He could not possibly ever imagine what she and Hugh had been through. Instead she ran up the stairs to find her mother awaiting her at the top.

Alette took one look at her daughter and burst into tears. “Praise be to God and His Blessed Mother Mary!” she sobbed.

Isabelle embraced her, scolding her as she did so. “Madame, must you always weep and wail? I have returned safe and sound to you, and you will soon have a second grandchild to spoil. Where is my son? I would see him this very instant!”

“The children are sleeping, Isabelle. You cannot wake Hughie. He is still just a babe, and you will frighten him. Then I shall not be able to get him back to sleep. You must wait until morning.”

“But I have not seen my son in over a year!” Belle protested.

“That is not my fault,” Alette said, “nor is it Hughie’s fault that his mother ran off and deserted him when he was barely past his first year. You will wait until the morning. I will not have the nursery roused at this hour. Besides, I want to know how soon your husband will rid us of Richard de Manneville.”

“Hugh will have to tell you that, Mama,” Belle said. She was disappointed at being denied access to her child, but knew in this particular instance her mother was absolutely correct. She looked at Alette, and a smile lit Isabelle’s face. “You are
with child, too!” She laughed. “How many will this make, madame?”

“Three,” Alette said smugly. “I hope it is a daughter this time, for I should like to have a daughter to comfort me in my old age.”

“Meaning,” Belle said, just a trifle offended, “that you do not believe you can rely upon me, eh, madame?”

“You are too independent a female, Isabelle,” her mother replied. “I would need you, and you would be off on some adventure or other. I want a meek, gentle daughter who will grow into a woman like me,” Alette said, “not some hellion who would be careening all over the countryside.” She folded her hands over her burgeoning belly. “Now, where have you been all these months?”

Isabelle carefully offered her mother the gentle version of the truth that she and Hugh had decided upon. When she had finished, Alette nodded, and, to her surprise, agreed that her daughter had been absolutely correct in following her instincts and going after her husband.

“I would not have thought you would believe me right in this matter,” Belle said, “for, as you have pointed out, I will go my own way.”

“Hugh could not have found himself again had it not been for you, Isabelle,” Alette said. “It is quite clear you did the right thing.”

Hugh and Rolf now entered the little Family Hall in New Tower. Alette ran to her husband, holding her face up for a kiss which he gladly gave, wrapping his arms about her protectively.

“You have been most brave, as well as clever, my love,” Rolf said to her proudly.

“I am not brave,” Alette said. “I have never been afraid of Richard, my lord. He is a coward in his heart. How will you kill him?” she demanded. “And when?”

“It may not be necessary to kill him,” Hugh interjected.

“If you do not kill him, he will never leave you in peace,”
Alette warned her son-in-law. “That is the way the de Manneville men are. Welcome home, Hugh,” Alette said as an afterthought. “Isabelle has told me of your adventures.”

“Where are the Langston men?” Isabelle asked her husband, suddenly noting their absence.

“They have slipped out of New Tower to the barracks,” Hugh explained. “They must seize your brother’s four men and secure them so that there is no alarm given. Then one of our men will slip into the Great Hall to ascertain the state your brother and his henchman are in at the moment. If they are not drunk yet, they will be helped along by our people. When they have finally been rendered unconscious, we will move them across the river to that cow byre to sleep off their excess of wine.”

“Where is Agneatha?” Isabelle wondered aloud, looking to her mother. “Is she safe?”

Alette nodded. “She is hidden in the village, for she is far too pretty to be around your brother, or Luc de Sai. We will send for her, my daughter, and glad she will be to see you.”

A Langston man arrived shortly thereafter to tell Hugh Fauconier that the Norman men-at-arms had been taken and were even now locked away. The servants had been told that their true lord and lady were safe within the keep. Richard de Manneville and Luc de Sai were being fed the best of the keep’s wines, laced with an herb that would make them sleep a deep sleep for the next ten hours.

“It will be a while before they can be moved,” Hugh said. “I think you should get some rest, ma Belle. If I could, I would help you out of those wet clothes.” His eyes twinkled at her.

“I want a hot bath,” she replied.

“Not until we clear your brother and his companion from the hall,
chérie
. As I recall, the last time you desired a hot bath you got into difficulties.” His voice was very low, so that only she could hear his words. “This time you must possess your soul of patience.”

“Only this one time,” she said with a small smile.

“Will you rest?” Alette asked her daughter.

“Nay, not yet,” Isabelle replied. “Though my cape is wet, I am fairly dry beneath. I would like some wine, though, and something to eat, madame. Come, Rolf de Briard, and tell me of Langston’s prosperity during our absence.” She removed her cloak and settled herself before a large fireplace that burned hot with large logs. Alette pressed a goblet of warm, mulled wine into Isabelle’s hand, and then busied herself slicing bread and cheese.

“The summer you left, as you will recall,” Rolf began, “was very bad. The crops did poorly, both grain and fruit. We had much animal disease, and consequently death among the cattle, although the sheep survived. On St. Lawrence Day morning there came a horrific wind such as none you have ever before seen. It did tremendous damage, and there wasn’t a roof left in any of the villages. This year has been better, although the king’s taxes to pay for his war with Normandy do not help us recover. No one is spared. He will wring the coin from all of us, and we in turn must wring it from our serfs. I exempt them where I can, and I have made certain that they understand that we all must sacrifice for England. Most understand, and even last winter I saw that no one starved. We do not have rebellion at Langston as on some estates.”

“You have done very well, my lord,” Isabelle said, “and I thank you for it. Without you, Langston would have fallen prey to who knows what. Hugh and I will not leave it again.”

“Hugh owes the king service, Isabelle,” Rolf said. “If he calls us, we will go. It would be treason to do otherwise.”

Isabelle sipped her wine thoughtfully, but said nothing. There was nothing to say. She could only pray Henry Beauclerc would forget about Hugh Fauconier and Rolf de Briard when the time came to take Normandy back from his brother, Robert. More tired than she realized, she fell asleep by the fire, her goblet tilting from her hand, to spill the remainder of its contents upon the floor.