think,” she answered. “My father has always thought that Guy was behind his brother’s death. It has angered him to see a man whom he regarded as a murderer sitting in Lord Roger’s place.”
“Your father thought highly of Lord Roger?”
She smiled. “All the world thought highly of Lord Roger. He was a great crusader, you know.”
“No,” Hugh replied slowly. “I didn’t know.”
“Father has always thought it particularly shameful that such a man should be murdered in his own chapel.”
Hugh’s eyes narrowed. “Your father also wants an earl who will pledge Wiltshire to Stephen, and I told him that I was not sure that I could do that.”
“Why not?” Cristen asked curiously. “Are you an adherent of the empress?”
Hugh shrugged. “I know little about the empress, but I think that her brother, Robert of Gloucester, would be a better king than Stephen.”
“My father thinks Robert of Gloucester is a good man also,” Cristen said agreeably. “But Gloucester is a bastard and so cannot be king. He is supporting the right of his half-sister and her son.”
Hugh stretched his legs in front of him and didn’t reply.
“What don’t you like about Stephen?” Cristen asked.
Her voice was merely interested.
Hugh stared at his boots and replied, “He is indecisive, and at this point in time what England desperately needs is a king who is strong. Stephen needs to stop this rebellion before it starts, and he is not doing the right things to accomplish that end.”
“He has taken all the castles that rebelled against him,” Cristen pointed out.
“He has not taken Bristol and he needs to take Bristol. As soon as Gloucester returns from Normandy, he will make Bristol his headquarters, and Stephen cannot afford to give him that kind of advantage. Once Gloucester is established in Bristol, all of those castles that Stephen has taken will fall once more to the empress.”
Cristen moved her foot back and forth on the dirt floor. It was a very small foot, Hugh noticed, and the boot she wore was scuffed.
Behind them one of the dogs began to snore.
“My father says that Stephen is very gallant,” Cristen said.
Hugh returned grimly, “What we need at the moment is a king who is ruthless, not gallant.”
“Ruthless is an ugly word.”
“Civil war is even uglier. It is the little people who will be hurt the worst by such a war, the very people whom the king has sworn to defend.”
Cristen sighed. “It always seems to be the little people who get hurt.”
“Unfortunately,” Hugh said.
The snoring behind them stopped as the dog shifted position.
Cristen said, “My father said that Gloucester and the empress will be coming to England any day now and that Stephen has posted troops at all the main ports to repulse them.”
“They won’t try to land at any of the main ports,” Hugh said. “Gloucester is too clever for that.”
Cristen got up to go and check on her potion. Evidently she judged it not yet ready, for she left it on the brazier and returned to the bench. She folded her hands in her lap and Hugh noticed that the tips of her fingers were stained with green from the leaves she had crushed.
“Where do you think they will land?” she asked curiously.
“It could be any of several places. Arundel, perhaps. Matilda’s stepmother, Adeliza, holds the castle there.”
“I don’t like to think about it,” Cristen confessed. “The whole idea of war is frightening.”
“Aye,” Hugh said somberly. “It is.”
A comfortable silence fell between them. On the brazier the liquid in the flagon began to bubble.
Hugh inhaled the warm, herb-scented air.
“I don’t know why I agreed to come here,” he said slowly. “I have been thinking ever since I left home that I must be mad.”
“Not mad,” Cristen said. “Just confused, I imagine. It’s a little overwhelming to be suddenly told you might be somebody else. And I think it’s only natural to want to find out if it might
“Your father thought highly of Lord Roger?”
She smiled. “All the world thought highly of Lord Roger. He was a great crusader, you know.”
“No,” Hugh replied slowly. “I didn’t know.”
“Father has always thought it particularly shameful that such a man should be murdered in his own chapel.”
Hugh’s eyes narrowed. “Your father also wants an earl who will pledge Wiltshire to Stephen, and I told him that I was not sure that I could do that.”
“Why not?” Cristen asked curiously. “Are you an adherent of the empress?”
Hugh shrugged. “I know little about the empress, but I think that her brother, Robert of Gloucester, would be a better king than Stephen.”
“My father thinks Robert of Gloucester is a good man also,” Cristen said agreeably. “But Gloucester is a bastard and so cannot be king. He is supporting the right of his half-sister and her son.”
Hugh stretched his legs in front of him and didn’t reply.
“What don’t you like about Stephen?” Cristen asked.
Her voice was merely interested.
Hugh stared at his boots and replied, “He is indecisive, and at this point in time what England desperately needs is a king who is strong. Stephen needs to stop this rebellion before it starts, and he is not doing the right things to accomplish that end.”
“He has taken all the castles that rebelled against him,” Cristen pointed out.
“He has not taken Bristol and he needs to take Bristol. As soon as Gloucester returns from Normandy, he will make Bristol his headquarters, and Stephen cannot afford to give him that kind of advantage. Once Gloucester is established in Bristol, all of those castles that Stephen has taken will fall once more to the empress.”
Cristen moved her foot back and forth on the dirt floor. It was a very small foot, Hugh noticed, and the boot she wore was scuffed.
Behind them one of the dogs began to snore.
“My father says that Stephen is very gallant,” Cristen said.
Hugh returned grimly, “What we need at the moment is a king who is ruthless, not gallant.”
“Ruthless is an ugly word.”
“Civil war is even uglier. It is the little people who will be hurt the worst by such a war, the very people whom the king has sworn to defend.”
Cristen sighed. “It always seems to be the little people who get hurt.”
“Unfortunately,” Hugh said.
The snoring behind them stopped as the dog shifted position.
Cristen said, “My father said that Gloucester and the empress will be coming to England any day now and that Stephen has posted troops at all the main ports to repulse them.”
“They won’t try to land at any of the main ports,” Hugh said. “Gloucester is too clever for that.”
Cristen got up to go and check on her potion. Evidently she judged it not yet ready, for she left it on the brazier and returned to the bench. She folded her hands in her lap and Hugh noticed that the tips of her fingers were stained with green from the leaves she had crushed.
“Where do you think they will land?” she asked curiously.
“It could be any of several places. Arundel, perhaps. Matilda’s stepmother, Adeliza, holds the castle there.”
“I don’t like to think about it,” Cristen confessed. “The whole idea of war is frightening.”
“Aye,” Hugh said somberly. “It is.”
A comfortable silence fell between them. On the brazier the liquid in the flagon began to bubble.
Hugh inhaled the warm, herb-scented air.
“I don’t know why I agreed to come here,” he said slowly. “I have been thinking ever since I left home that I must be mad.”
“Not mad,” Cristen said. “Just confused, I imagine. It’s a little overwhelming to be suddenly told you might be somebody else. And I think it’s only natural to want to find out if it might
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