As Ethel had predicted, the birth of Lora's baby was simple and straightforward. The infant, a son, was large and yelled lustily the moment he emerged into the air. Lora neither tore as she pushed him out, nor bled more than a trickle, and the afterbirth emerged smooth and whole within moments of the infant's delivery.

The ecstatic father paid the midwives twice the agreed fee of a shilling each, presenting them with twenty-four silver pennies apiece. He also gave them both a jar of soap. It was not the usual grey, strong-smelling liquid used for washing linen, but was thicker, flecked with green and delicately scented with lavender and rosemary. This was a much rarer and more costly soap for washing of the person, and increased their wages twofold again.

Their thanks were waved away with a declaration that it was no more than their due, and after a warming drink of spiced mead they set out for the keep, escorted by the two manservants and in high good spirits.

They passed the church of Saint Mary and took the lane that ran through the butchers' Shambles, the crowded wattle and daub houses to their left and the Avon gleaming on their right. Fishing craft and rowing boats were moored up for the night. There were piles of nets and twists of rope, the plash of starlit water and the heavy smell of the river.

'What I would like to do, Catrin announced, touching the outline of the soap jar in her satchel, 'is to immerse myself in a steaming hot tub, and perfume my skin all over.

'Hah! Ethel wheezed. 'If you did it in this weather, my girl, you'd freeze your nipples off!

The men escorting them snorted with laughter. Catrin put her nose in the air. 'It was only a wish, she said, feeling foolish.

'Aye, well, you'd do better to sell it and buy yourself an

extra chemise for when the snow comes. 'Tis what I'm going to do. Ethel looked at her slyly. 'But then I don't have a man to impress, do I?

Before Catrin could find a suitably withering retort, there was a shout behind them, and they turned to see a thin, middle-aged woman in threadbare garments crying at them to stop.

'Are you the two midwives from the castle? she demanded as she ran up to them. Her breath crowed in her throat and her eyes were wild. A lantern guttered in her hand. 'Someone said they had seen you pass.

'We are. Ethel leaned on her stick and appraised the woman shrewdly.

'Then praise God. Come swiftly, I beg you, it's my daughter. She gestured over her shoulder to the maze of lanes and alleys in the darkness of the Shambles. 'I can't stop the bleeding, I don't know what to do!

'All right, calm yourself, mistress, we'll come, Ethel said, and waved her hand at the two men. 'Best return to your master. I do not know how long we will be.

The woman led them into the dark thoroughfares of the Shambles. Despite the straw that had been thrown down to make walking easier, mud still splashed their clothing and seeped through the stitches in their shoes. Behind the fairly prosperous houses that fronted the street were others which were not as well kept — mean dwellings with scarcely room for a meagre central hearth. Ethel could spare no breath to ask questions as they walked, and so it was left to Catrin to interrogate and discover that they were being called to attend not a birth, but a miscarriage.

'Four months she's been carrying, the woman said. 'My first grandchild. I'm not saying as we wanted the babe, but once she caught, we never tried to get rid of it.

'Husband? Catrin queried.

'Hasn't got one. Father could be one of several.

By which Catrin understood that they were being taken to see one of the town whores who had got herself into difficulties. It never occurred to her to baulk. Having served Amice and having seen the lot of women who were forced to sell their bodies to earn a crust, her censure was reserved for the men who used and misused them.

'If I ever catch the bastard who did this to her, said the mother, 'I will geld him with my own two hands and make him eat his own ballocks. And then I will cut his throat. She brought them to a wattle and daub dwelling, its low thatched roof rank and damp. They paddled through the muddy soup to reach the single door and entered a dark, fetid room. The smell of poverty was all-pervading and filled the air which was almost as cold within as without. A fire burned, but it fed on a single log, and there were only two pieces of split wood left in the wicker basket by the central hearth. The cooking pot that hung over the single lick of flame contained about two quarts of lukewarm water. Light, such as there was, came from the weak glow of the fire and a sputtering mutton-fat dip pinched in a rusty iron holder.

By the dim illumination, Catrin could only just make out the shape of a young woman lying on a bed-bench along the hut's side. Her knees were drawn up towards her belly, and she was stifling small, animal sounds of pain against the back of her hand.

The mother went straight to the bed and, kneeling, smoothed her daughter's wet hair. 'It's all right, sweetheart, look, I've found the midwives. They'll help you now.

Catrin joined the woman and, with a soothing murmur, drew back the threadbare blanket the girl was clutching. There was blood but, with so little light, it was hard to tell how much. Very gently, she eased the stained chemise above the young woman's hips, and then caught her breath at the sight of the bruises and bite marks on her belly and thighs. 'Jesu! she whispered, recoiling despite herself.

'Aye, said the mother grimly. 'Gelding's not good enough for the likes o' him.

Catrin swallowed, feeling nauseous. There were red lines on the girl's body too, as if someone had impressed her flesh with the mark of a sharp fingernail or the point of a knife. "Who did this?

'She won't say. He told her he'd rip her properly if she made a complaint, the hellspawn.

Ethel pushed her way forward. She was still wheezing after her brisk walk, but able enough to take command of the situation. Bringing out the pouch of coins that the soap-maker had given her, she counted some into the mother's palm. 'For firewood and candles, if you can find someone to sell them to you this time of night, she said curtly.

For a moment, the woman stared numbly at the silver in her hand, then shook herself. 'The Star might have them, she said. 'Adela works there — or she did. She looked at Ethel. 'I cannot repay you.

'Never mind about that, just go, Ethel said with an impatient wave of her hand. 'If we are to save your daughter, we need light and warmth. If you're off to an alehouse, a jug of wine wouldn't come amiss either.

The woman vanished and Catrin and Ethel set to work, although there was not a great deal they could do except clean the young woman, apply a pad of folded, soft linen between her thighs, and ease her pain with a tisane made from the tepid water in the cooking pot. The child, visibly a little girl and perfect in every way except her ability to exist outside the womb, was born a little after dawn. The room by then was warmer and the morning light augmented the extra rush dips burning around the bed. Catrin could see now that their patient was very young. Sixteen the mother said, but a sixteen stunted by years of malnutrition. Whoever her partners had been, their desire had been for a child, not a fully fledged woman, and what the last one had done to her to slake his lust was sickening. The girl would not speak about him. Even a gentle question brought terror to her eyes. The most they could glean, and this from the ale-wife at The Star who brought a fresh flagon of wine and a loaf of bread to break their fast, was that it had been a soldier from the castle, one of the Earl's mercenaries, and she too was reluctant to speak out.

'Even if we make a complaint, the Earl will just put it down to high spirits going too far. Fighting men have to vent their hot blood when they're not in the field. He'll not listen to the likes of us. He'll say that she knew the risks when she became a whore.

Which was probably true, Catrin thought unhappily. God might have time to see the fall of the meanest sparrow, but Earl Robert, despite his kindness to herself and Richard, was not so well disposed towards every waif and stray.

At least the girl was going to live, she thought, and then wondered how much of a blessing that was. Her mother was a widow who literally earned their bread by selling loaves on the street for a baker, in exchange for some of his produce. Adela had been selling her body for the past year to keep them warm and shod.

In a spurt of guilt and compassion, Catrin gave the girl's mother all but six pence from her twenty-four. Ethel watched and said nothing. She had parted with coins herself for light, warmth and wine.

A dull, grey November day had reached full light by the time the two women left the house and started back through the mud towards the castle.

'Good thing she lost the babe, Ethel said, leaning heavily on her stick. As she walked, the base of it disappeared in three inches of mud. 'Her hips are too small to carry a nine-months child, kill her for sure.

Catrin's eyes were so hot and gritty that it was difficult to keep them open, and one of her spectacular headaches was just waiting to pounce. She could feel it growing at the back of her skull, rather like the gathering of a thunderstorm. 'She might yet die if the fever sets in.

'Oh aye, she might, Ethel agreed, and paused for a moment to rest. The night had taken its toll on her too, and she was blue around the lips.

Catrin thought unhappily of the young whore she had seen snoring in the straw at Oliver's side in the summer. How easy it was for men to get hold of these undernourished girls to slake their lust. So easy that they did not stop to think. For the whores it was simple too; sell their bodies or starve.