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. “Itoldyou 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.
An expression of terror came over Matthew’s face. William saw the point of Walter’s dagger emerge from Matthew’s chest, tearing a slit in his tunic. Matthew’s own knife fell from his hand and bounced on the floorboards. He tried to draw breath in a gasp, but a gurgling noise came from his throat and he seemed unable to breathe. He sagged; blood came from his mouth; his eyes closed; and he fell. Walter withdrew the long dagger as the body sank to the floor. For a moment blood spurted from the wound, but almost immediately the flow slowed to a trickle.
They all looked at the corpse on the floor: Walter, William, Aliena and Richard. William was light-headed after his close brush with death. He felt as if he could do anything. He reached out and grabbed the neck of Aliena’s tunic. The linen was soft and fine, very expensive. He gave a sharp jerk. The tunic ripped. He kept on pulling, so that it tore all the way down the front. A strip a foot wide came away in his hand. Aliena screamed, then tried to pull the remnants of the garment together over her front. The torn edges would not meet. William’s throat went dry. Her sudden vulnerability was thrilling. It was much more exciting than when he had watched her washing, for now she knew he was looking, and she felt ashamed, and her shame inflamed him all the more. She covered her breasts with one arm and her triangle with the other hand. William dropped the strip of linen and grabbed her by the hair. He jerked her toward him, spun her around, and ripped the rest of the tunic from her back.
She had delicate white shoulders, a small waist, and surprisingly full hips. He pulled her to him, pressing himself against her back, grinding his hips against her buttocks. He bent his head and bit her soft neck hard, until he tasted blood and she screamed again. He saw Richard move.
“Hold the boy,” he said to Walter.
Walter grabbed Richard and put him in an armlock.
Holding Aliena hard against him with one arm, William explored her body with the other hand. He felt her breasts, weighing and then squeezing them, and he pinched her small nipples; then he ran his hand over her stomach and into the triangle of hair between her legs, bushy and curly like the hair on her head: He prodded her roughly with his fingers. She began to cry. His prick was so stiff he felt it would burst.
He stepped away from her and jerked her backward over his outstretched leg. She fell on her back with a crash. The fall winded her and she gasped for breath.
William had not planned this, and he was not quite sure how it had happened, but nothing in the world could stop him now.
He lifted his tunic and showed her his prick. She looked horrified: she had probably never seen a stiff one. She was a real virgin. All the better.
“Bring the boy here,” William said to Walter.”! want him to see it all.” For some reason, the thought of doing it in front of Richard’s eyes was intensely piquant.
Walter pushed Richard forward and forced him to his knees.
William knelt on the floor and prised Aliena’s legs apart. She began to struggle. He fell on top of her, trying to crush her into submission, but still she resisted, and he could not get inside her. He was irritated: this was spoiling everything. He raised himself on one elbow and hit her across the face with his fist. She cried out and her cheek turned an angry red, but as soon as he tried to enter her, she began to resist him again.
Walter could have held her still, but he had the boy.
Suddenly William was inspired. “Cut the boy’s ear off, Walter,” he said.
Aliena went still. “No!” she said hoarsely. “Leave him alone—don’t hurt him anymore.”
“Open your legs, then,” William said.
She stared at him, wide-eyed with horror at the dreadful choice forced upon her. William enjoyed her anguish. Walter, playing the game perfectly, drew his knife and put it to Richard’s right ear. He hesitated, then with a movement that was almost tender, he sliced off the boy’s earlobe.
Richard screamed. Blood spurted from the small wound. The piece of flesh fell on Aliena’s heaving chest.
“Stop!” she screamed. “All right. I’ll do it.” She opened her legs.
William spat on his hand, then rubbed the moisture between her legs. He pushed his fingers inside her. She cried out with pain. That excited him more. He lowered himself on top of her. She lay still, tense. Her eyes were closed. Her body was slick with sweat from the struggle, but she shivered. William adjusted his position, then hesitated, enjoying the anticipation and her dread. He looked at the others. Richard was looking on with horror. Walter was watching greedily.
William said: “Your turn next, Walter.”
