Alys Clare - Music of the Distant Stars

‘The child, however,’ Hrype continued, ‘was innocent. No sin of its mother could be its fault. It was blameless. The same, though, cannot necessarily be said of the man who fathered it. There are many reasons why a man will not, or cannot, admit to paternity.’

There was a short silence. We were all thinking the same thing, I was quite sure, for Hrype himself had not told his own son of their true relationship until last year, and his reasons for keeping the secret from Sibert had been sound, even if Sibert found that hard to accept.

None of us referred to Hrype’s own history. None of us needed to.

‘It is this perplexing question, of who fathered Ida’s child,’ Hrype went on after a moment, ‘to which we must now address ourselves. You are convinced that neither Derman nor this man, Alberic, was the girl’s lover?’ He looked at Edild, then at me. Both of us nodded our heads. ‘Very well. Ida came to Lakehall about a month ago, in the employ of Lady Claude de Sees, and the reason for her visit was to allow her to spend some time getting to know her future husband, Sir Alain de Villequier, who, as our justiciar, was already resident in this area. As Lady Claude’s treasured seamstress, it was natural for her to accompany her mistress, who was to be working on her trousseau whilst under Lord Gilbert’s roof.’ He paused. ‘You judge, Edild, that the child was conceived at the end of February?’

Edild nodded. ‘Thereabouts, yes.’

‘Then her lover was someone she knew at home, either in the village where she lived or at Lady Claude’s family estate of Heathlands,’ Hrype said.

‘The man whom Sibert and I talked to in Brandon said she didn’t have any followers among the village lads,’ I put in. ‘He said she had a nice way of putting them off and that she treated them like brothers.’

‘I wonder why that was?’ Edild mused. ‘Was she, do you think, aware of Alberic’s devotion and quietly, unobtrusively, returning it?’

‘It would explain why no handsome village boy ever took her fancy,’ Hrype agreed.

But I shook my head. ‘Alberic would not agree,’ I said firmly. ‘According to him, he never let her know he loved her.’

‘Perhaps he did not need to,’ Edild said shrewdly. ‘Perhaps she loved him in total ignorance of his feelings for her and never dared let him know because of this gorgon of a wife you speak of, Lassair.’

‘Mm, I suppose it’s possible,’ I agreed, although reluctantly. ‘If Ida knew Thecla had tried to cut off Alberic’s hand because he’d sung with her, she’d make even more certain no one ever found out what she felt for him. If she felt it,’ I added firmly.

‘You do not believe she did?’ Hrype asked. His eyes on mine were as disconcerting as ever.

But I made myself stare right back. ‘I do not,’ I said.

‘Why?’ he persisted.

‘Because she was young, pretty, lively, she laughed readily, she was kind to people and much beloved,’ I said in a rush. ‘He was married to a dragon, he was much older than her, and she could have done so much better.’

The last observation had flowed out without my intending it. Alberic couldn’t help being almost old enough to be Ida’s father, and it was unkind to diminish his undoubted love for her and say she could have done better. I’d said it now, however. I waited for my aunt or Hrype to comment.

For a while neither of them did. Then Hrype said, more generously that I felt I deserved, ‘For myself, I am prepared to accept what Lassair feels so strongly. Of the three of us, it is she who is closest to Ida in age. Let us propose, then, that Ida met her lover after she had gone to work up at Heathlands. Let us say that he was perhaps a stable boy, a young groom, a household servant-’

‘That’s more reasonable,’ Edild observed. ‘After all, Ida was a seamstress so she would have been more likely to fall for someone else working inside the house.’

I was thinking. ‘You said that Lady Claude’s family needs a grand title and Sir Alain de Villequier needs money, and that’s why they’re marrying,’ I said.

Hrype smiled faintly. ‘In essence, that is so.’

‘Then the manor — Heathlands — is luxurious?’

‘They say so.’

‘A huge staff of indoor servants?’

‘Probably.’

I grinned. ‘Then we shall just have to narrow down the likely boys and young men till we find the one that was Ida’s lover.’

Edild smiled too, but hers was slightly pitying. ‘You intend to march up to Heathlands, demand admittance and start asking highly personal and embarrassing questions of all the male servants?’

‘Oh.’ She was right. Whatever had I been thinking?

Hrype reached out and took Edild’s hand. He muttered something — it might have been, Don’t crush her enthusiasm — and turned to me.

‘You reason well,’ he said. ‘Yet, as Edild implies, you have not thought your idea to its conclusion.’

‘I-’ I began.

He held up his hand. ‘I have a suggestion.’

I looked at him, feeling both excited and apprehensive. ‘Yes?’ I prompted.

‘You recall, no doubt, that it was I who told you both about Lady Claude and Sir Alain’s background?’ Edild and I nodded. ‘And you will also recall the source of my information.’ It wasn’t a question; he knew we’d remember.

‘Your wizard friend Gurdyman,’ I said.

‘Quite right,’ Hrype agreed. ‘He is, as I told you, an authority on the history of the great Norman families. It is, as he is wont to say, a wise man who strives to comprehend his enemy. His knowledge of the de Caudebecs, the de Sees and the de Villequiers is, as I told you, extensive, although whether it extends to the number and nature of the male indoor servants at Heathlands, I cannot say.’

I smiled. I thought he was making a joke.

‘We will,’ he said, rising to his feet, ‘just have to go and ask him.’

He was looking straight at me, an enquiring look on his face.

‘You’re asking me ?’ Me came out as a squeak.

His smile broadened. ‘Yes, Lassair. Will you come to Cambridge with me and speak to my wizard?’

There was only one answer. ‘Yes.’

There was plenty of time during the night for me to regret my impetuosity. Cambridge was half a day’s walk away; perhaps a little less now, when the weather was good and the roads and tracks correspondingly dry and firm. Hrype and I might well have to stay overnight with this wizard friend of his, which was quite alarming enough a prospect, but in addition we’d be travelling away from our village without Lord Gilbert’s knowledge or permission. For the same reason that Sibert and I couldn’t reveal that we were going to Brandon or why, Hrype would have to keep our mission to Cambridge a secret. Still, I comforted myself as I tried to make myself relax into sleep, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d left the village without permission, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

No. What really alarmed me about the morning’s mission was the prospect of a day or more with Hrype. I’d done that before too — travelled on my own with him, I mean — but I’d been quite a lot younger. I’d been scared of him then. Now, when I knew quite a lot more about him, that fear had not receded. If anything, it had increased. I couldn’t say tomorrow, Sorry, Hrype, I’ve changed my mind, and I’m not coming. You just didn’t say things like that to Hrype. Besides, it hadn’t escaped my notice that he could perfectly well have gone to consult this Gurdyman by himself. He didn’t need me there with him to ask the right questions.

There had to be something else. Was there some element in this mission that presented a chance for Hrype to further my studies into his own particular type of magic? It was perfectly possible, considering we were going to visit a wizard. What would the new lesson be? I could barely dare to think. .