'But how can I make amends if I do not know where to find her?' he demanded with desperation, an edge of fear in his voice.

Wulfhild shrugged. 'She don't want you to find her after what you done, and it ain't just because o' the goose woman in the village, although that's a mighty part of it.' Wulfhild folded her lips inwards until they almost disappeared. When he remained stubbornly in front of her, his expression a mingling of bewilderment, anger and loss, she shook her head and sighed. 'Your precious axes fell down during the spring cleaning. My mistress returned from the village. She was already distressed because she'd just found Inga all bloody and dying alone. Then she looked at your axe, the one that's missing.' She made small chewing motions.

'And?'

'She recognised some marks on the blade.' Wulfhild raised her eyes to his. 'That axe of yourn was made by Master Uoldwin, and it belonged to Mistress Ailith's brother Lyulph. Ml these years she has been sharing the bed of her own brother's murderer. She has called you nithing.'

'It was in fair fight,' Rolf protested. 'He would have killed lie had not my spear taken him first! I did not know he was Ailith's kin, I swear it!'

Her gaze held mute contempt. He flung away from her and drove his fist at the wall with the same violence that he had lung the cup. His skin split and the splits filled with blood. His mind howled and his voice howled with it.

Arlette ran to him, her cold composure broken by real fear. She grasped his arm and held on like a terrier. He heard her screaming at him to stop, and when he tried to shake her off, ;he refused to relinquish her grip. His blood smeared her gown of fine, pale blue linen. A streak of it lay like a long gash on her pale cheek.

His breath choking harshly in his throat, Rolf turned his back on the wall and slumped against it. Arlette snapped at a gawking servant to bring another cup of wine, and pulling her kerchief from her sleeve, bound it around his bleeding knuckles. But although the injuries were efficiently staunched, Rolf knew that he had suffered mortal wound.

CHAPTER 36

'Mistress Ailith?' Sigrid opened the door of her low-roofed, simple thatched house. An infant riding on her hip, she stared at her former employer with wide, astonished eyes. A soft drizzle shaded the summer dusk, and blurred outlines with a hoar of fine droplets.

'Can you provide us with sleeping space for the night?' Ailith asked. 'And a place to shelter the horses?' She tried to smile at her former maid, but she was so tired and heartsick, that for the moment she was beyond more than a meagre stretching of the lips.

'Of course, come within.' Recalling her manners, Sigrid stepped aside and ushered Ailith and Julitta over the threshold. Putting the baby in its cradle, she set about rousing the fire beneath the cauldron. 'You'll be wanting to eat,' she said. 'Is bread and broth enough for tonight?'

Tears prickled behind Ailith's lids at Sigrid's goodness. The young woman had always been quietly efficient in her capacity of maidservant, never saying much, totally ungiven to gossip. 'Bread and broth will be a feast, but you need not trouble yourself.'

'It is no trouble,' Sigrid said serenely. Once the fire was burning to her satisfaction, she went out to attend the horses. Ailith insisted on accompanying her, and Julitta was given a cup of milk and left to keep an eye on the baby.

The two women led the horses round to the back of the house and set about unsaddling them. 'You are no longer my servant, you do not have to do this,' Ailith said.

'But you are my guests, and in need of help, I think.' Sigrid heaved the saddle off the chestnut mare's back. 'If this had been an ordinary visit, you would have come here during the day, and you would have been lodging with the de Remys.' She gave Ailith a single, shrewd look, but did not press further and continued quietly with her task. It was this very undemanding silence that led Ailith to speak out.

'I have left Rolf,' she blurted, 'and I don't want him to find me — ever.'

'I thought as much when I saw you.'

'That is why I cannot go to Felice de Remy. It is the first place he would look for us. Even here it is dangerous. Your husband knows Rolf and the de Remys.'

'Edwin's away on a commission in Dover,' Sigrid soothed. 'He won't be home for ten days at least. And he knows how to keep his mouth closed.'

'I don't know what I'm going to do!' Ailith's voice quivered with a note of panic. 'I have got some silver, and we'll sell the horses, but that won't keep us for a lifetime.'

'But for long enough until you find something,' Sigrid said practically. 'Here on the Southwark side there is always work. We can think tomorrow about what to do. Tonight you must rest. I have never seen such dark shadows beneath your eyes.' A note of concern entered her voice.

Ailith looked bleakly at the saddle marks on Elfa's sweaty chestnut back. 'I thought when I lost my brothers, my son and then Goldwin, that my life was ended. I thought that no grief could ever cut more keenly than that. But I was wrong. That was just death. This is betrayal.'

Julitta sat on the floor, a wooden bowl between her knees, a heap of pea shucks at her side. Her thumbnail was green from splitting the pods and pushing the peas into the bowl. Some would be cooked and eaten fresh with mint from Sigrid's herb plot, the rest would be dried for winter use. Sigrid's baby was asleep in its cradle, and sunlight shone through the open doorway, striping the floor rushes with gold, and burnishing Julitta's hair to a rich garnet-red.

Earlier that afternoon she had asked her mother when they were going home, and had been told that for the time being they weren't, that they had to find somewhere to live here in Southwark. Julitta wrinkled her nose. She did not mind living here with Sigrid, but it was cramped and poky, and she missed the luxuries of her life at Ulverton, and her father's careless, proud affection. And then she remembered that her papa did not really love her or her mother any more, and that was the reason they were here.

A woman had come to collect some mending and laundry that Sigrid had done for her, and was now in earnest conversation with Ailith. Julitta had met Dame Agatha two days before when the woman had brought the clothes to be washed and mended. She was as comfortable and plump as a hen, double-chinned, florid of face and cheerful of manner. Julitta quite liked her, for Dame Agatha had made a fuss of her, admiring her beautiful hair, and giving her a piece of almond paste to suck. Julitta, in turn, had admired Dame Agatha's gaudy rings and a cross of real gold that she wore on her ample bosom. The woman had chucked her beneath the chin and laughingly suggested that Julitta and Ailith should come and live with her. Julitta had thought it a jest, the kind that adults often made to children, but now, eavesdropping, she discovered that Dame Agatha was in earnest.

'My business is so hectic at the moment, that I do not have the time to be collecting laundry and mending. I should be home now, seeing to my guests and preparing for the others. It is often beyond curfew before I can shut my doors, and sometimes I find customers waiting on my doorstep at the crack of dawn.' She bewailed her difficulties with complacency, a bright brown eye cocked upon Ailith.

'What kind of business, mistress?' Ailith responded politely.

'Oh, I run a bathing establishment, with a hostelry lying next door. It's not a brothel, I have nothing to hide,' she added quickly as she saw Ailith's look. 'I'm a respectable widow, and that's what keeps me in clients.' She sucked her teeth and folded her arms beneath her copious breasts, hitching them up beneath her chin. 'I heard that you were looking for somewhere to stay and occupation for your hands, and that you too are a respectable widow, indeed with a daughter to provide for.' Her glance went to Julitta, who quickly dropped her gaze to the task of pea-podding. 'No-one asks too many questions round here. That way, no-one never gets told any lies.'

Ailith coloured beneath the older woman's sharp scrutiny. The Southwark side of the Thames was outside London's jurisdiction, although in distance it was no more than a short boat journey or walk across the bridge. Here, bathing establishments had begun to flourish, some legitimate, others concerned with providing services less innocent than cleanliness of the body. She was not sure into which category Dame Agatha's premises fell, despite the woman's vehement reassurance. On the other hand, the offer of employment and a place to live seemed God-given.

'What kind of occupation for my hands?' she asked.

Agatha gave her a wintery smile. 'You're a suspicious one, aren't you?'

'Life has taught me not to trust.'

'Sometimes you have to take things on trust,' Agatha said. 'What I want is a someone to help me run my house and my business. Sigrid hasn't told me much about your life, but she says that you have worked in the households of a wealthy wine merchant and a Norman lord, and that you speak the language of the Franks fluently.'

Ailith nodded stiffly. 'That is true.'

'All to the good, since my clients are frequently Normans, and always rich.' Agatha tapped a ring-heavy forefinger against her prominent front teeth. 'You and the girl can have a chamber of your own, and I will pay you according to my profits — say five shillings a week and your board.'

Ailith knew that she had little choice, but all the same, for the sake of her pride, she was determined to hold out just a little. 'I will think on it,' she said.