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Authors: April Munday

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“He will try. I can fight back. Come, we are wasting
time here.”

With that, she swung herself up into the saddle and
started towards the gate without bothering to look and see whether Edmund
followed her or not.

 

Alais had not expected Edmund to be very communicative
as they rode to Hugh and she was not disappointed. He said nothing as they rode
into the biting wind. After a few days’ respite, it had started to snow again.
Alais thought it made everyone look like ghosts as they hurried through the
thick flakes, keen to be indoors in the dry and warm. It deadened the sound of
their horses’ hooves as they walked through the narrow streets towards the
river.

For the first time since she had arrived in London,
Alais found herself worrying about her people in Leigh. It was a surprisingly
harsh winter. It came to her that the next time she was in Leigh, she would not
see Wat or Mary. They were very old and the cold winter would be the end of
them. Her thoughts turned to young Edwin. He was five years old and so frail.
Everyone loved him for his gentle nature and almost constant smile. Who would
look after him and make him potions when she was so far away?

They came to the ferryman who once again demanded
additional payment for taking them over in the snow.

Once they had crossed the river, Edmund picked up the
pace and they came quickly to the house in Southwark where he had left his
friend. It was a small merchant’s house. Alais could not see what he sold, the
sign above the street was obscured by snow and the front of the house was shuttered
up to keep the shop inside protected from the cold, wet flakes. A boy came out
at Edmund’s call and took their horses. A man followed them and greeted Edmund.

“I did not expect you back so soon. Is this the
physician? He looks very young.” He tried to look directly into Alais’ face,
but she affected to stumble and avoided his examination.

“He is not a physician, but he is a skilled healer.”
Edmund took the man’s arm and steered him away from Alais and towards the open
door. “He will look after Hugh better than any physician could.”

The man nodded and led them inside. “He was still awake
when I went up a short while ago. I think he is waiting for you.” Alais bit her
lip to stop herself laughing aloud at the news that Hugh was still alive.

Edmund shook his head. “No, he is waiting for the
healer. I promised to try and bring this one.”

“He must be good,” said the man. Alais stepped back and
lowered her face as he tried to look at her more carefully.

“I will need plenty of clean, hot water,” she said as gruffly
as she could, “and clean cloths.”

“Are you sure he is experienced?” asked the man
doubtfully. “He sounds as if his voice has scarce broken.” Alais looked up in
time to see the panic cross Edmund’s face.

“Hugh would have no other. We should go up to him,
Thomas.”

Thomas turned and led them upstairs. Alais looked around
to see what the house was like. She wanted to gauge the kind of care Hugh might
have received here and what she would have available to care for him. It was
warm and well-lit, so there was wealth. The floors and walls were clean, so the
merchant’s wife was a capable housekeeper.

“Although he did not want it,” Thomas was saying, “we
sent for a physician.”

“You did well,” Edmund encouraged him.

Thomas snorted. “He was a waste of money. He said only
that Hugh would die. In my house! I sent him away again and had Edwina clean
him up. Hugh said his own physician would heal him.” He lowered his voice, but
Alais could still hear him.

“Are you sure this boy is any good?”

“If Alfred cannot cure him, no one can,” said Edmund
confidently. Alais wondered what she had done to make Edmund believe in her so
absolutely. Just a few hours ago he had been certain that Hugh would die, as
she had been. She had not done very much at Hill for the townspeople and Edmund
had not seen it, anyway. Perhaps it was Hugh’s own confidence that inspired
him.

“We had a priest to him, as well,” said Thomas as he
stepped forward to open the door, leaving Alais standing alone with Edmund.

“Love,” muttered Edmund, apparently to himself, “is more
powerful than any medicine.”

“Let us pray it is so,” she said, equally quietly. “I
fear it is too late for anything else to do him any good.”

 

Chapter Fourteen

Thomas opened the door onto a small room. Alais was
shaking as she wondered what she might find on the other side of the door to
the bedchamber. None of the images she considered gave her any comfort. They
followed Thomas into the room. There were two small beds and on one of them lay
Hugh. His breath was coming in wheezing gasps and the face that he turned
towards the open door was covered in sweat and wracked with pain. Alais caught
her breath, but managed to keep her emotions from her face. A healer could not
show love for a patient.

The young woman who was sitting by the bed stood as they
entered.

“Oh, Edmund, thank goodness you are here. Is that the
physician?” She looked from Edmund to Alais and her face became confused. Alais
did not want to lower her face; she needed to see Hugh, to reassure herself
that he was still alive.

“Alfred?” whispered Hugh, just loud enough for Alais to
hear.

“Yes, my lord.” Alais managed to stop herself rushing to
his side and stood by the door as the woman came to her. “You are very young,”
she said with a frown

“Everyone says that,” said Edmund, hastily. “Thank you,
Edwina.” He held the door open so that she could leave. Edwina seemed affronted
at being removed from the room with so little ceremony, but she smiled as
Edmund leaned down and gently kissed her forehead. “Thank you, I know you have
taken good care of our brother. Alfred can take over now.”

Even before Edmund had closed the door Alais had crossed
the room to Hugh and placed her hand on his forehead. He was very hot; the
fever was already very advanced. This was what she had feared.

“You should not have come,” croaked Hugh.

She looked down into his red-rimmed eyes and saw that
his pain did not come just from the wound.

“The servants will not be ready for us to leave until
tomorrow. I can dress your wound and make you comfortable before then.” She
spoke calmly and clearly so that he would not know how frightened she was.

“Edmund thinks I will be dead before then.”

“Edmund expected to find you dead when he got back,”
grunted Edmund from the door. Alais turned to smile at him and was surprised
when he smiled back.

Alais smoothed Hugh’s forehead. “There is much to do
before we leave. Do you know if you have other wounds?”

Hugh tried to shake his head, but stopped with a grimace
of pain.

“I will have to look. I am afraid it will hurt.”

“Not as much as knowing that you are my father’s bride
and not mine.” His voice was bitter and she saw that he spoke the truth.

Alais felt tears prick her eyes. She wondered if she
could tell him now that she loved him. He was on his deathbed. Surely it could
not hurt. She did not worry that Edmund would betray her or that she would
betray herself. Surely if it gave Hugh some comfort before he died it would do
no harm. Yet she found she could not break her vow to his father, not even to
comfort the man she loved as he died. She watched the hope fade from Hugh’s
eyes as she failed to speak.

“Edwina will bring the water soon. Edmund and I will
undress you and wash you and then I will deal with any wounds that I find. Do
you understand?”

He licked his lips. “Yes.”

There was a knock on the door and Edwina brought in some
water and some cloths. “Do you need anything more?” Her earlier curiosity
forgotten, she seemed disposed only to be helpful.

“A mug of small beer, if you please.” Alais turned to
Edwina. “I must give him something to make him sleep so that he can get through
the pain and he will not taste it in the beer.” Edmund’s sister nodded and
left.

“Do not make me sleep,” Hugh begged. “If I am to die, I
want to be awake all the time I am with you.”

Alais stroked his face and he smiled. “You will be in
great pain.” She could not imagine how bad, but he was a soldier, he must have
seen men wounded in battle. He must know how much he would suffer and that he
would not survive.

“Let me be awake.” She closed her eyes, how could she
grant his request? How could she let the man she loved go through such pain
simply so that he could be aware of her? A memory nudged at her and she saw her
mother lying on a strange bed in a stranger’s house. Lady Eleanor had not given
in to the pain, either. She had wanted to be with her daughter in her last few
moments on earth. Alais could not deny Hugh the same comfort.

“Very well,” she sighed.

Edwina came back with the beer, then Alais set about
undressing Hugh. His tunic and undershirt were easy enough. She could support
him so that he did not have to move too much. There was already a lot of blood
seeping through his clothes, despite the covering that Edwina had put over the
wound. The hose were going to be difficult to remove without causing him a lot
of pain. Since he would not take a sleeping draught, she must think of some
other way.

“Edmund,” she called quietly. He came to stand by the
bed. “When I give you the sign I want you to pull his hose off. Be as quick as
possible or the pain will kill him.”

“What sign?”

“You will know.”

Edmund pulled the blankets down to the foot of the bed
and untied the ties at the top of Hugh’s hose. Alais waited until Edmund
indicated that he was ready, then she leaned over and kissed Hugh full on his
mouth. Alais knew the moment when Edmund had carried out her command. Hugh’s
body convulsed beneath her, but still she kissed him. His initial surprise had
given way to pleasure and he returned the kiss with all the strength he had
left. She continued the kiss until Hugh had to gasp for air, then she pulled
away. Hugh was even paler than he had been before and as his breath rasped
painfully she wondered whether she had killed him anyway.

“My lady?” Edmund did not look as scandalised as she had
expected.

Alais took a deep breath, horrified that she had enjoyed
kissing a dead man. Apart from her husband’s betrothal kiss, she had never
kissed a man before. Despite his weakness, Hugh had taken control and her lips
burned with his passion. She had dreamed so often of kissing him, but the
reality had astounded her. She wondered what it would be like to have kissed
him when he was well and felt her whole body shiver at the thought.

“My lady?” asked Edmund, again. She must control
herself. Hugh’s life depended on her mastering her passions. Reminding herself
that Edmund would not betray her, she turned to face him. She was sure he would
be able to see her passion.

“That was well done, my lady,” he smiled.

“I agree,” said Hugh faintly.

Alais squeezed his hand. “Now we wash him, gently, and
look for any more wounds. I am afraid I stole some candles from the palace.
Could you get them from the bag?” Could that calm and orderly woman be her? She
could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her lips burning from the touch
of Hugh’s lips. She wanted to give in to her passion and kiss him again, but if
she did so, Hugh would die. If she mastered herself, there was a chance he
might live. She checked herself. The wound was too old and too deep; he must
surely die.

Alais started to wash Hugh’s body while Edmund lit the
candles. By their light she could see a number of small scratches and bruises.
They would be easy to deal with. There was nothing she could do to save Hugh
from the pain when Edmund turned him so that she could look at his back. He
screamed and Alais stroked his hair as she washed and examined him as quickly
as she could. She put the salve on the small wounds on his back then Edmund
turned him again. This time Hugh passed out with the pain. Alais was glad for
it. She had cleaned out the deep wound in his side, sewn it up and placed a hot
poultice on it before he regained consciousness. She was surprised at his
strength. He should not have lived through the journey to Southwark from Ewell.
A day later he should have been dead. Instead, he clung to life.

 

Once Alais was satisfied that Hugh was comfortable, she
grudgingly turned her attention to Edmund, despite his own protestations that
she remain with Hugh. As he had indicated, his wound was not serious, but he
must have been in great pain. He assured her that he had no other wounds, but
she suspected that he lied. She hoped that they were minor, since he would not
suffer her to examine him in the way that she had Hugh. Again, she cleaned the
wound and administered a poultice, then she sent him to rest on the other bed
while she sat with Hugh who was now conscious again.

His eyes stayed on hers, turning away only to hide his
pain from her.

“I am glad you came,” he said, his voice cracking with
the effort. She soaked a rag with the small beer and put it in his mouth so
that he could suck the moisture from it.

“You should be resting, not talking.”

“It matters not. I shall soon be dead and I would rather
talk with you than lie in silence.”

Alais wiped the sweat from his face with a damp cloth.
“I am sorry that I sent you to your death,” she said despairingly.

“Not you, sweet Alais. That was my brother.” He drew in
a slow, deep breath that she thought must break him in half from the pain on
his face. He lifted his hand from the blanket and she took it in her own. He
smiled. “You see? It is worth dying if you can touch me like this.”

“My lord, it is the fever that makes you ramble so.” She
tried to keep her face from showing her own distress at seeing him like this.
It must soon be over and she hoped it would be quick, to spare him the pain,
but she also hoped it would be slow so that they could share in this new
intimacy.

“I do not ramble yet and you called me by name before.”

“Since you desire it so, I shall continue.”

He was silent for a moment as another wave of pain swept
through him.

“I will not be able to fight it for much longer.” She
was sure he was paler than he had been when she had entered the room.

“It is a miracle you still live.” This much was true and
she was glad for it. She would not have liked him to die far from her in Ewell
with just Edmund for company, although she was sure that Edmund would have
preferred it that way.

“I did not want to die without seeing you. Edmund would
have left me at Ewell to bring you, but I knew you would not get there in
time.” This was not what she had expected. Edmund would have risked Hugh dying
alone to fetch her! Nothing that he had said or done had indicated that he
could be that selfless.

This time Hugh gasped with the pain and she smoothed his
forehead with her other hand, continuing to hold his hand tightly.

“You will have much trouble because of this.”

“I will have much trouble anyway,” she replied
resignedly.

“I should have told you to run away that day in
Southampton.” His breathing was becoming more ragged and she had to lean closer
to hear what he was saying.

“I could not. I am promised. I cannot break my word.”`

His eyelids fluttered as he slipped into
unconsciousness. “I love you Alais.”

Alais held onto his hand for a long time, hoping that he
might wake, but now the fever gripped him and shook him.

These were the darkest hours for Alais. She felt no need
to keep up the pretence of calm in front of Edmund and gave way to her tears.
She was dimly aware of Edmund pacing the room and was grateful that he did not
try to offer her comfort; there could be none, for either of them. Alais kept
the room dark, blowing out the candles, so that the room was lit only by the
light of the small fire. There was no need for her to see very much; she could
feel how hot Hugh was and hear the weakening voice that called out in his
fever. Sometimes he called out her name, at others he begged Edmund to fetch
her. Always she was would respond with a cool hand to his forehead and a soft
whisper, “I am here.” Sometimes he struggled with her as if he wanted to rise
from the bed and she was afraid that he would break the stitches that held his
flesh together. She refrained from examining them too often; even removing the
poultice to examine the wound would pull on it and make it worse.

Alais listened to his breathing grow more and more
ragged, then shallower. At every moment she thought he must die, but still he
lived. He had strength beyond her imagining, but that could only make the last
few hours more terrible. Fortunately, Hugh would be unconscious now until he
died. All he had left her with were a few memories and the knowledge that he
had loved her. She felt richer than the king himself. Nothing could ever be
worth more to her than his love.

Edwina came back and invited them to eat with the
family, but Edmund went down and returned with hot food for them both. Alais
refused it. “You must eat,” he said, “we will be busy tomorrow.” He smiled and
then she remembered.

“I do not have to fight the French,” she replied, “but
you are right. A full stomach is better than an empty one.”

The food was good and Alais felt its warmth spread
through her, strengthening her for the trial to come.

She had no idea how late it was when Edmund reminded her
that they should return to the palace. “We can stay until morning,” she
protested. She could not leave Hugh to die alone now. It would not be much
longer. However strong he was, and he was very strong, he would be dead in a
few hours. She could give him that much, even if she could not tell him that
she loved him.

“They will have missed you,” said Edmund patiently and
she wondered what he was feeling. He had said little since they had arrived
here, which was usual for him, but she knew that he loved Hugh and she did not
understand how he could be so calm at the prospect of losing him.

“I will tell them that I got lost in the palace,
returned to my bed late and rose early to prepare for the journey,” Alais
pleaded.

BOOK: The Traitor's Daughter
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