The Pillars of the Earth - Ken Follett [93]
“This is all about family honor for you, isn’t it?”
There was a dangerous note in her voice, but William ignored it. He had just realized what the earl must be doing with all these knights and men-at-arms: he was sending messages. “Family honor?” he said distractedly. “Yes.”
“I know I ought to think about honor, and alliances between families, and all that,” Aliena said. “But that’s not all there is to marriage.” She seemed to ponder for a moment, then reach a decision. “Perhaps I should tell you about my mother. She hated my father. My father isn’t a bad man, in fact he’s a great man, and I love him, but he’s dreadfully solemn and strict, and he never understood Mother. She was a happy, lighthearted person who loved to laugh and tell stories and have music, and Father made her miserable.” There were tears in Aliena’s eyes, William noted vaguely, but he was thinking about messages. “That’s why she died—because he wouldn’t let her be happy. I know it. And he knows it too, you see. That’s why he promised he would never make me marry someone I don’t like. Do you understand, now?”
Those messages are orders, William was thinking; orders to Earl Bartholomew’s friends and allies, warning them to get ready to fight. And the messengers are evidence.
He realized Aliena was staring at him. “Marry someone you don’t like?” he said, echoing her final words. “Don’t you like me?”
Her eyes flashed anger. “You haven’t been listening,” she said. “You’re so self-centered that you can’t think about anyone else’s feelings for a moment. Last time you came here, what did you do? You talked and talked about yourself and never asked me one question!”
Her voice had risen to a shout, and when she stopped, William noticed that the men on the other side of the room had fallen silent, listening. He felt embarrassed. “Not so loud,” he said to her.
She took no notice. “You want to know why I don’t like you? All right, I’ll tell you. I don’t like you because you have no refinement. I don’t like you because you can hardly read. I don’t like you because you’re only interested in your dogs and your horses and your self.”
Gilbert Catface and Jack fitz Guillaume were laughing aloud now. William felt his face reddening. Those men were nobodies, they were knights, and they were laughing at him, the son of Lord Percy Hamleigh. He stood up. “All right,” he said urgently, trying to stop Aliena.
It was no good. “I don’t like you because you’re selfish, dull and stupid,” she yelled. All the knights were laughing now. “I dislike you, I despise you, I hate you and I loathe you. And that’s why I won’t marry you!”
The knights cheered and applauded. William cringed inside. Their laughter made him feel small, weak and helpless, like a little boy, and when he was a little boy he had been frightened all the time. He turned away from Aliena, fighting to control his facial expression and hide his feelings. He crossed the room as fast as he could without running, while the laughter grew louder. At last he reached the door, flung it open, and stumbled out. He slammed it behind him and ran down the stairs, choking with shame; and the fading sound of their derisive laughter rang in his ears all the way across the muddy courtyard to the gate.
The path from Earlscastle to Shiring crossed a main road after about a mile. At the crossroads a traveler could turn north, for Gloucester and the Welsh border, or south, for Winchester and the coast. William and Walter turned south.
William’s anguish had turned to rage. He was too furious to speak. He wanted to hurt Aliena and kill all those knights. He would have liked to thrust his sword into each laughing mouth and drive it down each throat. And he had thought of a way to avenge himself on at least one of them. If it worked, he would get the proof he needed at the same time. The prospect gave him savage consolation.
First he had to catch one of them. As soon as the road ran into woodland, William dismounted and began to walk, leading his horse. Walter