Earl Percy and Countess Regan had returned to their old manor house at Hamleigh, to arrange for the treasure, the best horses, and the household servants to be moved to the castle. William’s job was to hire some local people to clean up the castle, light fires, and make the place habitable.

Low iron-gray clouds boiled across the sky, so close they seemed almost to touch the battlements. There would be rain tonight. That made it even better. He would be throwing Aliena out into a storm.

He and Walter dismounted and walked their horses over the wooden drawbridge. Last time I was here I captured the place, William thought proudly. The grass was already growing in the lower compound. They tied up their horses and left them to graze. William gave his war-horse a handful of grain. They stowed their saddles in the stone chapel, as there was no stable. The horses snorted and stamped, but a wind was blowing up, and the sounds were lost. William and Walter crossed the second bridge to the upper compound.

There was no sign of life. William suddenly thought that Aliena might have gone. What a disappointment that would be! He and Walter would have to spend a dreary, hungry night in a cold and dirty castle. They went up the outside steps to the hall door. “Quietly,” William said to Walter. “If they’re here, I want to give them a shock.”

He pushed open the door. The great hall was empty and dark, and smelled as if it had not been used for months: as he had expected, they had been living on the top floor. William trod softly as he walked across the hall to the stairs. Dry reeds rustled under his feet. Walter followed dose behind.

They climbed the stairs. They could hear nothing: the thick stone walls of the keep muffled all sound. Halfway up, William stopped, turned to Walter, put his finger to his lips, and pointed. There was a light shining under the door at the top of the stairs. Someone was here.

They went on up the stairs and paused outside the door. From inside came the sound of a girlish laugh. William smiled happily. He found the handle, turned it gently, then kicked the door open. The laugh turned into a scream of fright.

The scene in the room made a pretty picture. Aliena and her younger brother, Richard, were sitting at a small table, close to the fire, playing a board game of some kind, and Matthew the steward was standing behind her, looking over her shoulder. Aliena’s face was rose-colored in the glow of the fire, and her dark curls glinted with auburn lights. She wore a pale linen tunic. She was looking up at William with her red lips in a big O of surprise. William watched her, enjoying her fright, saying nothing. After a moment she recovered, stood up, and said: “What do you want?”

William had rehearsed this scene many times in his imagination. He walked slowly into the room and stood by the fire, warming his hands; then he said: “I live here. What do you want?”

Aliena looked from him to Walter. She was scared and confused, but nevertheless her tone was challenging. “This castle belongs to the earl of Shiring. State your business and then clear out.”

William smiled triumphantly. “The earl of Shiring is my father,” he said. The steward grunted, as if he had been afraid of this. Aliena looked bewildered. William went on: “The king made my father earl yesterday, at Winchester. The castle now belongs to us. I’m the master here until my father arrives.” He snapped his fingers at the steward. “And I’m hungry, so bring me bread and meat and wine.”

The steward hesitated. He threw a worried look at Aliena. He was afraid to leave her. But he had no choice. He went to the door.

Aliena took a step toward the door, as if to follow him.

“Stay here,” William ordered her.

Walter stood between her and the door, barring her way.

“You have no right to command me!” Aliena said, with a touch of her old imperiousness.

Matthew spoke in a scared tone. “Stay, my lady. Don’t anger them. I’ll be quick.”

Aliena frowned at him, but she stayed where she was. Matthew went out.

William sat in Aliena’s chair. She moved to her brother’s side. William studied them. There was a similarity between them, but all the strength was in the girl’s face. Richard was a tall, awkward adolescent, with no beard yet. William liked the sensation of having them in his power. He said: “How old are you, Richard?”

“Fourteen years,” the boy said sullenly.

“Ever killed a man?”

“No,” he answered, then with a little attempt at bravado he added: “Not yet.”

You’ll suffer too, you pompous little prick, William thought. He turned his attention to Aliena. “How old are you?”

At first she looked as if she would not speak to him, but then she appeared to change her mind, perhaps remembering that Matthew had said Don’t anger them. “Seventeen,” she said.

“My, my, the whole family can count,” William said. “Are you a virgin, Aliena?”

“Of course!” she blazed.

Suddenly William reached forward and grabbed her breast. It filled his big hand. He squeezed: it felt firm but yielding. She jerked back, and it slipped from his grasp.

Richard stepped forward, too late, and knocked William’s arm aside. Nothing could have pleased William more. He came out of his chair fast and hit Richard in the face with a swinging punch. As he had suspected, Richard was soft: he cried out and his hands flew to his face.

“Leave him alone!” Aliena cried.

William looked at her with surprise. She seemed more concerned about her brother than about herself. That might be worth remembering.

Matthew came back in carrying a wooden platter with a loaf of bread, a side of ham and a jug of wine on it. He paled when he saw Richard holding his hands to his face. He put the platter down on the table and went to the boy. Taking Richard’s hands away gently, he looked at the boy’s face. It was already red and puffy around the eye. “I told you not to anger them,” he muttered, but he seemed relieved that it was no worse. William was disappointed: he had hoped Matthew would fly into a rage. The steward threatened to be a killjoy.

The sight of the food made William’s mouth water. He pulled his chair up to the table, took out his eating knife, and cut a thick slice, of ham. Walter sat opposite him. Through a mouthful of bread and ham, William said to Aliena: “Bring some cups and pour the wine.” Matthew moved to do it. William said: “Not you-her.” Aliena hesitated. Matthew looked at her anxiously and nodded. She came across to the table and picked up the jug.

As she leaned over, William reached down, slipped his hand under the hem of her tunic, and rapidly ran his fingers up her leg. His fingertips felt slender calves with soft hair, then the muscles behind her knee, and then the soft skin of the inside of her thigh; then she jerked away, spun around, and swung the heavy wine jug at his head.

William warded off the blow with his left hand and slapped her face with his right. He put all his force into the slap. His hand stung in a very satisfying way. Aliena screamed. Out of the corner of his eye William saw Richard move. He had been hoping for that. He pushed Aliena aside forcefully, and she fell to the floor with a thud. Richard came at William like a deer charging the hunter. William dodged Richard’s first wild blow, then punched him in the stomach. As the boy doubled over, William hit him several times in rapid succession about the eyes and nose. It was not as exciting as hitting Aliena, but it was gratifying enough, and within moments Richard’s face was covered with blood.

Suddenly Walter gave a warning cry and sprang to his feet, looking past William’s shoulder. William spun round to see Matthew coming at him with a knife held high ready to stab. William was taken by surprise-he had not expected bravery from the effeminate steward. Walter could not reach him in time to prevent the stroke. All William could do was to hold up both arms to protect himself, and for a terrible moment he thought he was going to be killed in his moment of triumph. A stronger attacker would have knocked William’s arms aside, but Matthew was a slight figure softened by indoor living, and the knife did not quite reach William’s neck. He felt a sudden surge of relief, but he was not yet safe. Matthew lifted his arm for another blow. William took a step back and reached for his sword. Then Walter came around the table with a long pointed dagger in his hand and stabbed Matthew in the back.