Talisman Chapter 8

Chapter 8 After the meal was over, Talisman slipped away to the little chapel to say the prayers for the repose of her grandfather’s soul that she had been meaning to say in church. She was uneasy in her mind and heart. This Hugo seemed so harsh – she had no desire to wed any son of his! And her father would not compel her to do so – but what if Hugo could force her father’s hand? For the rest of the day, Talisman was kept incredibly busy. She was sent here there and everywhere on errands to see to the comfort of these unexpected guests. One of the errands took her down to the basement, and in to the cellar that was the first one I had run through. But instead of a door, only a blank stone wall met my eyes. The only other rooms down there were a couple of small, barred ones. Dungeons! I thought, excitedly – it was like something out of a film. But Talisman knew that they had never been used for people, never been needed. Ship House had remained safe and peaceful all through the unrest that had been the backdrop of her childhood. Maybe there was something about the guerdon Ship had given Sir Guy de Malherbe. But I didn’t believe in luck – how could a thing bring luck? I must ask Perdita about it. Before she went to bed that night, Talisman went up on to the roof and gazed up at the stars. I had never seen so many of them! And then I realised that it was the lack of street lights – the night sky showed more clearly. It wasn’t that there used to be more stars back then. She was thinking about something she had overheard that day – Hugo muttering to Pierre as he walked past: “After all, it would be a great pity if any harm were to come to your two sons.” Her sense of foreboding was growing stronger. Once again, Talisman had gone into the village, this time to ask advice from old Mathilde. Mathilde and her husband had come from Normandy with Guy de Malherbe – Jean had been Guy’s squire, manservant, groom, you name it, and Mathilde was his just-wed wife, no older than Talisman was now. For the last forty years they had watched the fortunes of the de Malherbes, and Mathilde knew more about the family than almost anyone. Talisman knocked at the door of Mathilde’s little house. Every little house had its own bit of land, with vegetables, a bee skep, a few chickens, a fruit tree or two – the constant challenge was to grow enough to eat. The farmland wasn’t anything like modern farmland – instead there were three great fields, all divided into strips. And every man had strips in each field, so that no-one had all the best or all the worst land. Mathilde was old now, grey and wrinkled, with a face that was as brown as a walnut. But her eyes were still lively and affectionate, and Talisman could trust her with anything. She poured out the whole story to Mathilde, and then asked her what she knew about this Hugo de Malherbe. “Nothing to his good, my little one. Nothing to his good. Three wives he’s had, and they’ve all died. I mind his third wife well – Eadgytha of Longwood they called her. And a fine gentle lady, for all that she was of Saxon stock. But she didn’t last long once she was married to him – died in childbirth, poor lady, and the child with her, and her son no more than ten months old.”
“Hugo says he wants me to marry one of his sons. And he keeps hinting that things might go amiss if father does not consent. What can I do, Mathilde?” “Well at least he doesn’t want to marry you himself, my sweeting. Let us give thanks for that.”
“Yes, but…” Talisman’s voice trailed away. How could she explain to Mathilde this sense of wrongness that hung about Hugo? She tried to, and Mathilde was surprisingly quick on the uptake. “I know what you mean. Old Hugo, this Hugo’s grandfather, he too had that air about him. And yet I remember when he and Sir Guy were just two reckless lads looking for adventure. Ay de mi, those were the days, when we were all young and adventurous, and our bones didn’t ache as mine do now. But then Hugo changed, quarrelled with Sir Guy, left the house and went his own way.” Talisman went home heavy-hearted. And she was not made any the happier by the few words Hugo exchanged with her.
“So mysterious, wasn’t it, Red William’s death? Were you of an age to remember the manner of it? There he was, out hunting, and a stray arrow killed him. And no-one knows how it happened. These accidents could happen to anyone, it seems. Do your brothers enjoy hunting?” Later that day, Hugo called Talisman and her parents together.
“I want your daughter as wife to my third son. He’s a bit of a milksop, I admit, but he does have Longwood Manor for his own – it came to him from his weakling of a Saxon mother. I think it would be in your best interests to agree.” Talisman’s mother spoke up. “There are other young men with a manor to their name. And they are not all younger sons. Sir Robert de Belville is by no means opposed to an alliance with our house for his oldest son.”
This was news to Talisman, but not too surprising. When her father had spoken to her of her betrothal, she had thought that he must have someone in mind. “But he cannot offer you this.” Hugo clapped his hands, and two of his men-at-arms came in, bearing a large and heavy object covered with a cloth. They placed it on the table and took off the cloth.
As soon as I saw it, I knew what it was. The guerdon!
Hugo went on talking. “My grandfather had six of these strange objects, and he gave one to each of his children, sons and daughters alike. They have brought us all great power. Since I need an alliance with your family, this will be Talisman’s if she will take my youngest son Roger, and be his wife.” I had to get hold of this. And there was only going to be one way. I’m sorry, Talisman, I thought. But if I can’t lay hands on this, I’m going to be stuck in this body for ever. And I really don’t like the threats he’s making either. If Miss Aislaby was anything to go by, he’ll carry them out. And I pushed, hard, at her mind, and she rose to her feet and said:
“I accept the gift, and with it your son to my husband.”
But even as I pushed her to say it, I could feel that she was making the same choice for herself. “Talisman, are you sure about this?” Her parents had gone up onto the roof with her.
“You heard his threats – to my brothers, and to you. Do you really think they were empty ones?”
And her parents were silent. When the betrothal had been recorded, together with all the property that would be involved, and been signed and witnessed, and Hugo had gone on his way with a promise that he would return with his son in a few weeks’ time for the wedding, I pushed Talisman de Malherbe for one last time, sent her downstairs and made her reach out her hands to lift up the strange object. And as she touched it, once again everything went black and all I knew was the weight of the object in my arms.