She looked up at him worriedly. “What is it?”
He nodded fractionally toward the front of the pavilion. “Who is that? Do you know?”
Cristen glanced in the direction Hugh had indicated and saw a solitary knight standing by the water pails that were lined up in front of the pavilion. The man’s face was rigid with barely controlled emotion, and he was staring at Hugh with hard and glittering eyes.
She looked back to Hugh. “I don’t know.”
“I think he is the man who won the wrestling today,” Hugh said. “One of Guy’s knights, I believe.”
Cristen turned and openly gazed at the knight. Realizing that he had been seen, the man bent, picked up a pail of water, and disappeared quickly into the pavilion.
“He probably recognized your resemblance to Guy,” Cristen said.
Hugh was frowning. “Aye.”
Fear caught Cristen by the throat. “He didn’t look very friendly, did he?”
“Perhaps he saw the same thing that Guy did when he looked at me this afternoon,” Hugh said.
“What is that, Hugh?”
In a grim voice, Hugh replied, “Retribution.”
9
Supper for all the visiting knights and ladies was held in the Great Hall of Chippenham’s keep that evening. Philip went to the castle with the knights of Somerford while Father Anselm, who would not be able to keep his tonsure covered indoors, stayed behind in the pavilion. Young Brian was to bring him food from the supper that was being served in the bailey for the squires and pages.
As they approached the castle, Philip scanned it with the appraising eye of a potential attacker.
From what he could see, Chippenham’s defenses were formidable indeed. The outer wall of the castle, the curtain wall, had to be at least fifteen feet thick and was reinforced by towers at all the corners. Such a wall would be well able to withstand most available siege artillery, he thought.
The men of Somerford passed between the gate towers, under the raised portcullis, and into the outer bailey. This courtyard contained ample stabling as well as the usual storehouses and buildings for workmen and castle defenders. There was even enough room in the large bailey to house additional troops, should they be necessary for the castle’s defense.
Nigel’s men crossed the bailey in the direction of the castle’s inner walls. These walls were also built of thick stone, with a second gate barred by another iron portcullis. A square tower stood at each of the four corners of these inner walls.
Inside the second set of walls was the keep, a square, stone edifice, four stories high, with four towers that rose another two stories above the main building.
If ever a castle looked impregnable, Philip thought grimly, Chippenham did. Whoever commanded such a fortress was well nigh untouchable. The only tactic that could force such a bastion to surrender would be the starvation of its defending troops.
Led by Nigel, who had Cristen on his arm, Philip and the men of Somerford walked up the stone ramp that led to the main door of the keep. This door led into the second floor of the forebuilding, a three-story square block that jutted out from the west end of the main part of the castle.
Philip was not unfamiliar with this style of keep. Robert of Gloucester’s castle, which he had visited upon a number of occasions, was built very like Chippenham. The first floor of such a castle was usually given over to storerooms, the second floor to guardrooms, and the third floor to the Great Hall. The fourth floor and the towers usually held the family solar and bedrooms.
Sure enough, after ascending one flight of stairs, Philip found himself stepping out of the enclosed staircase (which could be defended by a few men against an army) and into Chippenham’s Great Hall.
Trestle tables crowded the floor of the immense room, whose high ceiling had louvered holes set into it to allow the smoke generated from the enormous hearth to escape. The noise level in the hall was already high, as men sat around the tables, drinking ale and reliving the exploits of the day while waiting for the meal to be served.
The seats at the high table were still empty, waiting for the earl and his retinue to arrive.
Nigel and Cristen moved away from the group of Somerford knights to take their places at one of the higher tables with Guy’s other vassals and their ladies. Philip and the rest of Nigel’s men went to find a table at the lower end of the hall, among the knights of the other retinues.
Hugh went with them.
Philip managed to arrange matters so that he was seated next to Hugh when the Somerford men found empty places at one of the trestle tables.
As they took their seats on the bench, Philip turned to Hugh and asked quietly, “Does any of this look familiar to you?”
Hugh’s face was completely shuttered. His profile might have been carved in stone.
“No,” he said.
Philip eyed him curiously. “You really don’t remember anything about your childhood?”
“No,” Hugh said again. This time a telltale muscle clenched along his jaw.
Philip continued to regard the closed face of Isabel’s son.
Hugh might have inherited his mother’s perfectly sculpted bones, but by some strange alchemy of nature, his beauty was completely male.
Hugh’s light gray eyes, which were not Isabel’s, turned and looked at him straightly. “Do I really look so much like her?” he said.
“Aye,” Philip returned. “You do.”
Hugh’s lashes dropped.
“What did Guy say to you this afternoon when he was awarding your prize?” Philip asked.
Hugh shrugged. “He wanted to know who I was.”
He accepted a cup of ale from one of the pages who were circulating among the tables and took a long drink.
“I can imagine that he did,” Philip said with a cynical smile. “He must know what his brother’s wife looks like. Hers is not a face you would easily forget.”
Hugh didn’t reply.
The scent of roasted meat filled the hall even though the food had not yet been brought in. Evidently it had already been carried up to the pantry from the kitchen building. It would not be served, however, until the earl had taken his place.
Philip took a sip of his ale.
“Did Nigel send word to the Lady Isabel about me?” Hugh asked in a carefully detached voice.
“Aye. She is in the Benedictine convent at Worcester, and has been for the last fourteen years. Since her husband was killed and you were lost, in fact. After she received Nigel’s message, she sent for her brother, Simon of Evesham, and Simon and I went to visit her. I got the task of bringing the priest to Somerford to identify you.” Philip shrugged his big shoulders. “In fact, we didn’t need the priest. I could have done it myself. Anyone who has seen the Lady Isabel would recognize you.”
Hugh was slowly revolving his cup on the table in front of him. Philip could not see his eyes.
“Why did Simon send the priest? Why didn’t he come himself?” he asked at last.
“My lord is anxiously awaiting word from Robert of Gloucester,” Philip said. “We expect to hear news any day now that the earl has landed with his sister.”
The gray eyes flicked around to his face.
“Simon is going to support the empress, then?”
“He is Robert’s man. He will support whomever Robert supports.”
“I see,” said Hugh.
“Whom do you support, Hugh?” Philip asked, trying to sound casual. “Are you Stephen’s man, like Nigel Haslin?”
A large group of knights came into the room, laughing and talking raucously. They began to search among the tables for places to sit.
Hugh watched them absently.
“My allegiance is of no matter,” he said. “My foster father was the Sheriff of Lincoln, and a man to be reckoned with, but I am only the holder of a few small manors. My allegiance can make little difference to either side.”
“It will make a great deal of difference if you are the Earl of Wiltshire,” Philip said bluntly.