Lothar folded his arms, looking down at the emaciated, corpse-like shadow of his friend. William was sleeping deeply, too deeply for his liking. He hadn’t even stirred when they’d carried him up two flights of winding stairs, probably due to whatever potion his daughter had given him. A sleeping draught she’d called it, though he had his own experience to know how powerful those could be.
He shook his head, still struggling to get over the shock he’d felt when he’d first walked into the taproom. If he’d found Stephen himself, he couldn’t have felt any more surprised. He’d sent Lady Juliana away because he’d been too overwhelmed to take anything else in, certainly too angry to think straight and listen, though worse than that had been the feelings of betrayal and disappointment, as if she hadn’t been the woman he’d thought she was.
Somehow he’d managed to restrain his temper. He would never have hurt her, but there had been men enough in the bailey that he could have vented his anger on. Still he hadn’t done it, remembering what she’d said about not wanting violence, and, ironically, he hadn’t wanted to let her down. No matter how much of a liar and deceiver she was, somehow her influence still had the power to calm him, even when she was the one making him angry.
Now that he’d had some time to think, however, the other things she’d said tugged at the edge of his consciousness. She’d said that her father was in pain, though not from an injury, which suggested an illness of some kind. That made sense. William was too thin, like everyone else in the castle, but he seemed to have aged twenty years since they’d last met as well. There was something unnatural about his appearance, too, his blue veins standing out against pale skin that looked almost translucent, as if he were wasting away to bone.
‘Sergeant?’
He turned to find one of his men standing in the doorway.
‘Have you brought him?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Good. Send him in and then leave us.’
He set his feet further apart, bracing himself for another confrontation as Ulf stumbled unceremoniously into the chamber.
‘Where’s Lady Juliana?’ The Constable’s truculent expression was back with a vengeance.
‘That’s none of your concern. Did you know about this?’
He gestured at William, expecting some kind of denial, though Ulf answered at once.
‘Yes.’
‘What about your men?’
‘Yes.’
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘All of them?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then how the hell could you go along with it?’ His temper exploded at last. ‘This is your master, the man you ought to serve, not hold captive! Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t execute the lot of you for disloyalty.’
‘Do whatever you want.’
‘Your lady, too?’
‘No!’
‘And why shouldn’t I?’ He took a threatening step closer. ‘Bad enough that she sided with her father’s enemy, but then to keep him hidden away like a dog! I ought to leave and let Sir Guian deal with the lot of you.’
‘Wait until he wakes up.’
‘What?’ He frowned. ‘Why?’
A look of pain crossed the Constable’s face. ‘Just wait. It won’t be long, it never is now. Then you’ll understand.’
Wait! Lothar took a deep breath, tempted to tell Ulf exactly what he could do with that suggestion. The last thing he wanted to do was wait! He’d waited too long already, delayed his departure too many times. He’d almost left that morning, had only come back because he’d wanted to make peace with Lady Juliana. Now part of him wished that he’d left when he had the chance. This time he was well and truly trapped. No matter what he’d just told Ulf, he couldn’t leave now. The thought of abandoning Lady Juliana with Sir Guian had been bad enough, but William, too? Not just his friend, but his sick friend? How could he possibly leave now?
A fit of coughing drew him to the bed.
‘William?’ He leaned over, alarmed to see the vacant expression on the face looking up at him.
‘Who are you?’ The voice was frail and wavering, nothing at all like the one he remembered.
‘It’s Lothar. From the Empress’s court.’
‘The Empress?’ William’s green eyes, so strikingly like his daughter’s, darted wildly around the room as if he were searching for someone. ‘Where’s Ana?’
Ana? He felt a faint stirring of unease. He’d never heard William call his daughter by the short version of her name before.
‘Lady Juliana’s resting.’
‘Not her—my wife! Tell her to come to me.’ William closed his eyelids briefly, before opening them again with a fresh look of confusion. ‘Who are you?’
‘Lothar.’ He tried again. ‘I’ve been sent by the Empress.’
‘Who?’
‘Empress Matilda.’
‘But she’s a child! I thought she was in Francia. Why is she sending me a message?’
‘He means the King, my lord,’ Ulf interrupted hastily. ‘King Henry.’
‘Ah.’ William looked relieved. ‘Then what does the King want with me?’
‘He sends his greetings, my lord, and Sergeant Lothar here. Do you remember him?’
The old man’s face wrinkled in concentration. ‘There’s something familiar, but I don’t know the name.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Lothar took a discreet step backwards. He had the feeling his presence was only making William more distressed. ‘We’ll talk later. You ought to rest now.’
‘I can’t. It hurts.’
‘My lady gives him some medicine for the pain.’ Ulf lowered his voice. ‘Will you allow it?’
‘Yes.’ This time he didn’t hesitate. ‘Do it.’
He didn’t stay to watch, moving away from the bed with a fresh sense of despair, as if he’d lost his old friend all over again. The last time he’d seen William had been just over a year ago. Now that he thought of it, there had been something odd about his behaviour then, as if he was missing some of his usual alertness, but he’d put it down to the strains of war.
‘Is he always like this?’ He waited for Ulf to join him in the doorway.
‘No. Sometimes he’s aware of everything, though that doesn’t happen often now. It’s not just his mind either. There’s some kind of sickness.’
‘Did he ride out to fight Stephen like this?’
‘Aye.’ Ulf shook his head regretfully. ‘Six months ago he still seemed to know what he was doing, but he was worse than we realised. My lady didn’t want him to go, but she couldn’t naysay him either. We’d no idea that he intended to charge off all on his own. It happened so fast that I couldn’t stop him. That’s why he was knocked down and captured. Lady Juliana blames herself.’
‘If he was captured, then how did he get back here?’
Ulf’s face took on a look of pride. ‘Because she rode into Stephen’s camp to get him.’
‘Lady Juliana?’ Both his eyebrows shot up. ‘On her own?’
‘She wouldn’t let anyone go with her.’
‘Was there a ransom?’
‘If there was, we couldn’t have paid it. Everything he had was spent on supporting the Empress.’
‘Then how...?’ Lothar let out a low whistle as the truth finally struck him. ‘That’s why she swore her allegiance to Stephen, to get him back?’
Ulf nodded. ‘She came back an hour later with her father on a litter. He hasn’t got up since.’
‘Taking care of him...’ Lothar murmured the words softly. ‘Is that why she’s always so tired, because she’s been nursing him?’
‘Ever since she brought him back, running herself into the ground doing it, too, no thanks to your lot.’ Ulf’s expression turned combative again. ‘So what are you going to do now?’
Lothar folded his arms, knowing that he ought to rebuke the other man, but lacking the will to do so, glancing across to her chamber door instead. She’d stopped protesting once his men had dragged her away, though he’d been no less aware of her presence in the tower. Every thought he’d had seemed to come back to her, as if his mind were incapable of not thinking about her for long. Now it seemed that he’d misjudged her and badly. The fact that she’d been keeping secrets from him still rankled, but the sense of relief he felt was greater still. She hadn’t been holding her father prisoner after all. She hadn’t betrayed him simply because she wanted to be chatelaine. She’d been telling the truth when she’d said she was taking care of him. Which meant that he owed her an apology.
‘Stay with him.’
He pulled the key to her chamber from his gambeson and crossed the gallery, knocking lightly on the door before pushing it open.
She was lying sprawled across the bed, her legs dangling over the edge as if she’d simply tumbled backwards where she’d sat. Probably she had. At least now he knew the reason behind her exhaustion. Every time he’d thought he’d been sending her to bed she’d been nursing her father instead. No wonder his knock hadn’t disturbed her. She was probably tired enough to sleep for a week.
He studied her face, half-obscured by a swirl of dark red hair. Her forehead was creased slightly, as if her cares were too ingrained to be forgotten in sleep, her lips slightly parted, as if just waiting to be kissed. He tensed at the thought, inappropriate as it was, surprised, too, by a rush of admiration. She was a better woman, not a worse one, than he’d realised. A woman who’d sided with Stephen to save her father, not to gain anything for herself. She hadn’t even sided against Matilda, not really. In which case, they weren’t on different sides any more. The thought made her even more tantalising. As if leaving her hadn’t been hard enough in the first place...
He backed towards the door and closed it softly behind him. There was no need to wake her just yet. Questions could wait. The other things he had to do couldn’t. He might have a difficult time explaining himself to the Empress when it came to it, but he had no choice. He couldn’t leave Lady Juliana. Not yet anyway, but Sir Guian most definitely could.