Alys Clare - Out of the Dawn Light

‘Sibert,’ I said softly.

‘Sibert. Yes.’ Briefly he bowed his head. Then he went on, ‘We were in exile but we kept our pride. We who had quit our hall and our homelands carried our heads high; not so those despised ones of our blood who remained and sold their souls to the new Norman lord. One such, I confess, was my cousin, the son of my mother’s sister. He was weak, greedy and, reluctant to give up the good things of life, he abased himself before Fulk de la Flèche, offered him his loyalty and his service and so betrayed his forefathers and his living kin.’ I could hear the fury and the scorn in Hrype’s voice. ‘His name is Roger — it is not his given name but that he has left behind him in his bid to become as the Normans — and he it was who dropped tantalizing hints about the crown and its power. He knew far less than he claimed, for the crown was ever deeply secret among my people and none of us would willingly have shared the smallest, least significant detail with one such as my cousin.’ The anger had built again and I sensed it like a flame on the bare skin of my face. ‘In time, rumour of our treasure must have reached the ears of Romain,’ he said, clearly mastering his fury, ‘so that when Baudouin joined the rebels and, with Drakelow lost to the de la Flèches, the means to buy back the king’s favour were so urgently required, immediately Romain thought of what lay hidden somewhere within the manor. He learned — from Roger, I would guess — the identity of the former masters of Drakelow; somehow he succeeded in discovering our whereabouts. He did not approach me, for he must have known what my reaction would be. He sought out Sibert, dreamy, hopeless Sibert, so full of anger and resentment that when a stranger offered him the chance of recovering a treasured family object, he barely paused for thought before leaping at it.’

‘I’m quite sure he thought he was helping,’ I said gently.

Hrype grunted an acknowledgement. ‘I’m quite sure you are right,’ he said wryly. ‘But he did not know what he was meddling with. The crown is no bartering tool and will not permit itself to be used as such. Now as a result Sibert lies imprisoned and will hang’ — his voice broke with emotion but quickly he regained control — ‘and that will break his mother’s heart.’

And perhaps yours too, I thought, compassion bringing tears to my eyes as I watched Hrype hunch in pain.

‘Sibert is no murderer,’ I said shakily. ‘Whatever Baudouin’s witness may say, he is wrong when he says he saw Sibert kill Romain. Sibert was with me, and I will swear it before the highest authority in the land.’ I spoke grandly but I spoke true. Or so I believed.

Slowly Hrype straightened up and turned to look at me. His eyes held mine and I found I could not look away. It was as if he were searching my mind, testing me, assessing my courage.

I don’t know what he concluded but I fear that I disappointed him, for he turned away and I thought he slumped a little.

‘I will!’ I repeated recklessly. ‘If there’s a way I can prove I’m telling the truth’ — yet again I cursed my fluent lying, which had convinced those who counted that I’d been with Edild all along — ‘then explain it to me and I’ll do it!’

He stared at me for what seemed a very long time. Then eventually he said, ‘We are told of this witness who claims to have seen Sibert’s attack on Romain. You were on the road at the time. Did you see anybody? I am thinking,’ he explained, ‘that if you have the courage, you might retrace your footsteps, find this man and ask him to reconsider. If you were to say that you know Sibert is innocent because you were with him all the time, possibly this witness will realize he is mistaken.’

Once I was over the initial shock, I tried to calm my mind and think carefully. Had I seen anyone? Had there been someone on the track? Sibert and I had encountered fellow travellers in plenty once we were on the road leading inland from the coast, but on that journey across wild, empty country, there had been nobody and, indeed, few signs of human habitation at all.

Then I remembered.

‘There was a woman by a well!’ I shouted. Hrype instantly hushed me. ‘Sorry,’ I whispered. ‘Sibert and I were so hot and thirsty. We’d kept up such a pace all the way from Drakelow — we were both scared that Romain would catch up with us and Sibert wanted to get out on to the road, where he thought we’d be safer because there would be other people about. But I couldn’t go on any further without water and when we saw her with that bucket, dipping in her drinking cup and pouring the lovely cool water down her throat, I wouldn’t go on until we’d begged her to give us some too.’

Hrype stared at me. ‘This was close to where Baudouin claims Sibert killed Romain?’

‘Yes. Very close.’

‘Could she have witnessed the murder?’

‘I suppose so, yes. Since we passed right by her, Romain probably did too, and she might have followed him for some reason.’ I hesitated, but only for a moment. It was better if Hrype knew the whole story. ‘We did see Romain that day,’ I said. ‘But it was he who attacked Sibert, not the other way round. He was after the crown, of course. He jumped on Sibert’s back, taking him completely by surprise, and they fought and Sibert managed to get his knee into Romain’s — er, up between his legs. But Romain had a knife and he would have killed Sibert if he hadn’t fought dirty!’ I was trying not to cry. The memory was still far too fresh, caustic in my mind. ‘And besides, Romain was so much bigger and stronger, and although I really liked him and I had no idea it’d lead to him being killed and I’m so sorry that he’s dead, it wasn’t fair on Sibert — ’ I was crying in earnest now, tears soaking my face and my nose bunged up — ‘and anyway it was what the crown wanted. Sibert had it and it wanted to stay with him.’

I sensed Hrype nod and he murmured, ‘Yes. It would.’ Then very gently he asked, ‘What did you do, Lassair?’

‘I warned him,’ I said between sobs. ‘I saw that Romain was about to attack with the knife and I said, Now, Sibert, get your leg up! and he did and it hurt Romain so much and that’s when he stopped fighting and fell, but he was alive when we left him, I swear on all the gods that he was!’

Hrype had his arms round me and it was very comforting because he smelled like Sibert. I relaxed against him and cried out all the pain, anxiety and grief of the past few days. For quite a long time he simply held me and waited — really, I hadn’t realized he could be so kind — and finally, when I sniffed, wiped my sleeve across my face and sat up away from him, he just said, ‘Better now?’

I nodded. It was very restrained of him, I thought, when he must be dying to ask if I’d agree to his suggestion. It was the one tiny chance we had of saving Sibert; of course I would agree.

When I told him so, for the first time I saw him really smile.

Baudouin discovered very quickly that living in the pampered style of Gilbert de Caudebec and his household was not to his taste at all. The focus of everyone’s eyes, from Gilbert down to the lowliest scullion, was the baby, and Baudouin had little or no time for babies. It was, he decided, trying to force a smile as he endured yet again Gilbert’s exhortation to watch and admire what seemed to him an unexceptional infant, far too feminine a household for a man such as himself to find comfortable. The young wife, secure in her role as mother of the son and heir, seemed to have spread her frills and fancies around the whole place. She was a comely woman, plump still with milk fat and with generous breasts whose white skin pressed up above her tightly laced gown, but any attraction she might have held for Baudouin was eradicated by her conversation, which always reverted to the same topic. Baudouin thought to himself that he was not used to women, although-