He had known it would be there.
Slowly he walked to the gate of the garden and let himself in.
There were no flowers this time of year. The beds were full of bare stalks and the rosebushes were all wood. Hugh shut his eyes and the sweet scent of summer blossoms drifted to his nostrils.
He opened his eyes and stared at the wooden bench that was placed in the middle of the garden. A picture formed in his mind of a woman sitting there in the sun. A little boy came running down one of the paths, and she stood up, bending down to him, her arms outstretched. The child ran right into her arms.
Hugh smelled the scent of roses.
His lips formed the word Mother.
He stood there for a long time, staring sightlessly at the empty bench. Then he turned and walked out of the garden, back to the castle to look for Nigel.
He went first to the Great Hall, where he was accosted by Sir Richard Evril, who informed him in a very clipped tone that Lord Guy desired to speak to him. He followed Richard up the stairs, through a small, sparsely furnished anteroom, and into what was obviously the family solar, where Guy awaited him.
The earl was standing at the unshuttered window, looking out, when Hugh came into the room. For a long moment he didn’t move, making Hugh stand and regard his back. Finally he turned around. Slowly, he looked Hugh up and down.
“I thought we should have a little talk,” he said at last.
Hugh looked back at the man who had twice tried to kill him, the man who was responsible for the death of Geoffrey, and didn’t reply.
“What were you doing in the pleasure garden?” Guy said abruptly.
Hugh remained where he was by the door. “Trying to see if I remembered it,” he said.
“And did you?”
“Aye,” Hugh said. “I believe that I do.”
There were dark pouches of dissipation below Guy’s gray eyes, but the eyes themselves were clear and alert. “Hear me, Hugh Corbaille,” he said in a hard voice. “I have thrown in my lot with Stephen. I didn’t want to choose sides, but you forced me to it. Stephen may be weak in some things, but he will support me-with arms, if he has to. Wiltshire is too important for him to give it up.”
“That is so,” said Hugh. His expression was contained, giving nothing away.
Guy took a step away from the window into the room. He put his hands on the back of a carved chair and stared at Hugh over it. “I am telling you this because I know that your mother’s family is of the empress’s party.” Guy leaned a little forward. “I have summoned you here to give you this warning. Do not go to Mathilda to uphold your claim.”
The day outside the window was gloomy and overcast. The light in the solar was dim. The two men stood for a moment in silence, looking at each other across the bare wooden floor.
“And if I do?” Hugh asked.
“You will regret it,” Guy replied in a hard voice. “My own feudal army equals anything Robert of Gloucester can put in the field. And Stephen will aid me as well.” The gray eyes narrowed dangerously. “If it comes to a fight between us, you may well end up dead, Hugh. Think on that before you do something rash.”
“Is that a threat?” Hugh asked softly.
Guy’s full lips were set in a hard, implacable line. “You may take it that way if you wish.”
Hugh moved forward one step, bringing him fractionally closer to Guy. He stared into the eyes that were so like his own and demanded, “Did you have anything to do with the death of your brother?”
Guy held his gaze unflinchingly. “I did not. If you came here seeking vengeance, I am not the man you want.”
The two pairs of gray eyes held for a long, strained moment. Then Hugh slowly nodded.
There was the slightest relaxation of tension in Guy’s face. “I have been the Earl of Wiltshire for fourteen years,” he said. “You will not supplant me, even if you are my brother’s son.”
“If I am no threat to you, then why have you twice tried to have me killed?” Hugh inquired. His voice was merely curious.
Guy’s eyes flickered with surprise. “What are you talking about?”
“The knight who was killed at the tournament was riding my horse, and there are those who will swear he was downed by a blow to his back, not his front.”
“Nonsense,” Guy said impatiently.
“Someone fighting on his own side killed Geoffrey,” Hugh said. “And you had a number of men fighting on his side.”
“I don’t know where you have gotten this ridiculous notion, but I had nothing to do with the death of Nigel Haslin’s knight!” Angry color flared in Guy’s face. “Look to one of his own companions if you suspect he was betrayed. Perhaps one of his fellow knights held a grudge against him. But don’t try to lay his death at my door!”
Hugh looked thoughtfully at the flushed, angry face of his uncle. Guy glared back at him.
Hugh said, “Someone tried to kill me last night.”
Guy’s whole face hardened. “How?”
“I went to the chapel in the morning hours. I wanted to see if I would be able to remember anything. When I came out, someone was waiting for me with a knife. I was lucky to get away.”
“You didn’t see who it was?”
“The landing was pitch dark. He had extinguished the flambeaux.”
Guy cursed.
Hugh said neutrally, “As far as I know, you are the only person who would benefit from my death.”
“I am not an assassin,” Guy said furiously. “And as far as I know, you are making these stories up in order to discredit me.”
“Your reputation is rather vulnerable,” Hugh agreed.
“I had nothing to do with Roger’s death,” Guy said grimly.
“Someone killed him,” Hugh said.
Guy made an impatient gesture with his hands. “It was the knight. Why can’t you just accept that and let well enough alone?”
“Because I am like a dog who has buried a bone and can’t find where he put it,” Hugh said wearily. “I must keep digging and digging until I find what I want.”
“Well, you will not find me,” Guy said.
“Then you have nothing to worry about, do you?” Hugh replied pleasantly. He rubbed the back of his neck as if it ached. “I will be leaving Chippenham this afternoon, Uncle, so let me take this opportunity to say farewell to you.”
“Don’t hurry back,” Guy said sarcastically.
Hugh gave him a long, level look, then turned and left the room.
19
The wind increased while the Chippenham household was at midday dinner, and by the time Hugh and Nigel started out on their return home, the temperature had dropped fifteen degrees. Both they and their escort were chilled to the bone by the time the walls of Somerford came into view.
Hugh had been silent for almost the entire ride, and Nigel did not attempt to force a confidence. From the expression on Hugh’s face, he had known he would meet with little success.
In fact, for the first time since he had met Hugh, Nigel was wondering if he had done the right thing in telling the boy who he was. Now that Guy had won the king’s backing, it did not look as if Hugh had any chance of winning the earldom that was rightfully his. It seemed to Nigel’s discouraged mind that the only thing that his disclosure had done for the boy was to bring him grief.
It was growing dark by the time Nigel’s party rode through the outer gate of Somerford. Grooms came running to take their horses, and Nigel and Hugh went wearily up the castle ramp and into the Great Hall.
Supper was finished and the tables had already been cleared away. The household knights sat around the fire, engaged in their usual pursuits of chess and dice. Thomas was plucking the strings of his lute.
Heads turned as Hugh and Nigel, followed by the knights of their escort, came into the room. One of the knights by the fire sent a page running up the stairs to relay the news to Cristen and her ladies that the lord of the castle had returned. Nigel and Hugh moved to stand by the fire and Nigel held out his cold hands to its warmth.