“They probably all had the pox,” Hugh said.
“They probably did,” Philip agreed. “But it wouldn’t have hurt you to buy them a drink and let them sit on your lap.”
“I hope you had sense enough not to do anything more than that.”
“I’m not a randy enough fool to fall into the sack with a tavern girl,” Philip said impatiently.
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you still awake?”
Hugh made a face. “Listen to that cacophony. Who can sleep in the midst of so much noise?”
The rest of the knights were deeply asleep and snoring lustily from all the ale they had drunk.
“You’re spoiled,” Philip said. He put his boots to the side and prepared to stretch out in his shirt and hose. “Not everyone grew up with the luxury of a bedroom of his own, like you. You get used to the snoring.”
“You do?” Hugh sounded unconvinced.
“I thought perhaps you might be thinking about Gloucester’s offer,” Philip said.
Hugh’s response was unexpectedly candid. “I have been.”
“And have you decided what you are going to do?”
“Not yet. I need to talk it over first.”
“Nigel Haslin is Stephen’s man,” Philip warned. “He’ll try to talk you into going to Stephen.”
“It’s not Nigel I want to talk to,” Hugh said. Then, when Philip tried to ask another question, Hugh shut his eyes, rolled over on his side, and told Philip to go to sleep.
The sun was shining when they arose the following morning, but none of Simon’s knights appeared to appreciate the brightness of the day.
“Too much ale,” Hugh diagnosed solemnly when he saw Philip wince as he stepped out of the shadow of the inn into the merciless light of the yard.
Hugh himself had had scarcely any sleep at all, but he looked alert and rested compared to the rest of Simon’s party.
Simon himself had gone to bed early in his own private room, and he was full of energy and ready to start for Evesham. His pain-wracked knights trailed along behind him to the stableyard, mounted up, and rode stoically through the streets of Gloucester, heading for the road that would take them home.
Simon kept his horse next to Hugh’s and spent the entire ride trying to talk him into accepting Gloucester’s offer. Hugh spent the entire ride returning noncommittal replies to Simon’s arguments.
He was very glad to reach Evesham, where he hoped he would be able to escape, if only briefly, from Simon’s insistent presence.
The Lady Alyce was waiting in the Great Hall to greet them when they walked in.
“You are welcome home, my lord,” she said to Simon and held her face up to him for the kiss of peace.
Then she turned to Hugh.
“I have a wonderful surprise for you,” she said. Her eyes were sparkling like a young girl’s. “Guess who has come to visit?”
Hugh looked back at her blankly. He hated guessing games and had no reply.
“Your mother!” Alyce said triumphantly.
Hugh froze.
“I sent to Worcester to tell her you were here and she arrived yesterday. In all that rain!” Alyce was bubbling on, completely oblivious to Hugh’s reaction. “She was so anxious to see you that she couldn’t wait.”
Simon spoke into the silence. “Isabel is here?”
Alyce gave her lord a radiant smile. “She is upstairs, my lord.” She turned back to Hugh. “I promised her I would send you to see her the moment you returned.”
The silence in the hall was catastrophic. Finally even Alyce noticed that something was wrong.
“I will take you to her myself,” she said, but with less confidence than she had spoken before.
Hugh’s face was as white as parchment. Then, still without speaking a word, he turned on his heel and walked out of the hall.
The people he left behind stood for a moment as if they had been glued into place. Then Simon cursed and started after him.
The horses they had ridden from Bristol had not yet left the bailey, and Simon was in time to see Hugh leap onto Rufus’s back and ride out through the inner gates of the castle.
“God’s bones,” he said through his teeth.
“That bastard.” It was Philip Demain, standing at his side. “Do you want me to go after him?”
“No,” Simon said in a flat voice. “Let him go.”
Philip shoved his hand through his hair. “What the hell is wrong with him?” he demanded.
“I don’t know,” Simon said. Unlike Philip, he did not appear to be angry. He merely looked bleak. “Judas. I am going to have to tell Isabel what happened.”
The lady Alyce accompanied her husband to Isabel’s bedchamber and listened in fulminating silence while he told his sister that Hugh had left the castle.
Alyce waited for Isabel to cry out with dismay. Instead she sat silent, staring at her brother. The only sign she gave of distress was that all of the color drained from her face.
“I’m sorry, Isabel,” Simon said in a gruff voice. “Alyce should not have invited you so precipitately.”
“And why not, I should like to know?” Alyce demanded, defending herself. She glared at her husband. “Who could have suspected that Hugh would behave in such a fashion? What in the name of God is wrong with that boy?”
“I’m sure he had his reasons,” Isabel replied in a steady voice.
Alyce stepped forward with some notion of taking her sister-in-law into her arms to comfort her.
There were no tears in Isabel’s dark blue eyes, however. Her face was white, but she had herself under strict control. Only the trembling of her hands in her lap betrayed her feelings.
“I should have waited for him to come to me,” was all she said. Her face told Alyce not to embrace her. “It was my fault for behaving too rashly.”
“I don’t think it’s rash for a mother to want to see the son she thought was dead,” Alyce said angrily.
“He was not ready,” Isabel replied. Her skin looked parchment-thin over her perfect bones.
Alyce used her husband’s favorite oath. “God’s bones, what did he have to be ready for? You’re his mother!”
“Quiet, my lady,” Simon said. “Isabel is upset enough already.”
Abashed, Alyce reined in her temper. Simon was right. “I did not mean to shout at you, Isabel,” she said.
Isabel gave Alyce a shadowy smile. The sun pouring in the window illuminated her face, revealing the fine lines around her eyes and her mouth.
“Is there aught we can do for you?” Alyce asked.
“I would like to see Father Anselm, if he is here,” Isabel said.
“I’ll send him to you,” Simon said. “And now that you have finally returned to Evesham, I hope that you will remain with us.”
She shook her head. “No, Simon, I shall return to Worcester in the morning.”
“You don’t have to pray for him any longer, Isabel,” Simon said grimly. “I can assure you that he is very much alive.”
Her face, if possible, looked even more ghostlike than it had before. “For all these years I have been praying for myself,” she said. “I was the one who needed Hugh to be alive. Now the time has come for me to pray for him.”
Stupid woman, Hugh thought as he cantered Rufus away from the walls of Evesham. To bring her there, without telling me. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
His heart was hammering, his breathing was coming fast, and it was not due to the pace at which he was he was riding.
He continued to vilify the Lady Alyce for the next fifteen minutes while he cantered Rufus along the wide, well-kept road that would take him south, to Somerford. The vale of Evesham stretched around him on all sides, with its abundant fields that belonged to Simon’s honor, but Hugh was completely unaware of the richness through which he was passing.
At last, his bodily functions began to regulate themselves and his brain began to function once again. He slowed the white stallion, who had already made one journey today and would tire quickly if Hugh continued to push him.