'Such as? She finished her drink and set the cup to one side, her eyes luminous as she knelt above him.

'Such as what do you think of Godard? Oliver banded his arms around her and rolled her over. There was a welcome surge of heat at his groin.

'First I was angry, then I was pleased, she answered and spread her legs invitingly. 'He is very useful to have around, and Ethel dotes on him. So do half the laundry maids. She dug her nails into his back. 'You took a risk sending him. I find his company quite pleasing myself.

'But not as pleasing as this?

Her thighs clasped him. 'Ask me again in a while, she murmured, then arched and gasped as he thrust into her.


Leaning heavily on her stick, Ethel limped across the bailey. The sleet had turned to wet snow and was settling although, behind the clouds, a haze of moon still glimmered fitfully. On reaching her dwelling, she paused outside, her head cocked on one side like a listening bird. Very carefully, she unfastened one of the hooks holding the door screen and peered inside.

By the faint red glow from the embers of the fire, she saw Oliver and Catrin entwined upon her bed, both of them sound asleep. Oliver's arm was draped protectively across Catrin's shoulder, and her head was snuggled beneath his chin.

Quietly, Ethel secured the screen and turned back towards the hall. It was warm in there, and she had no complaint about dozing by the fire with hot, spiced wine for company.

As she paused against the forebuilding to gain her breath, she saw a couple arguing in the lee of the wall. In a moment, she recognised them both. The man was young Gawin, still wearing his hauberk from escort duty, and the woman was the Countess's sempstress Rohese. She stood shivering in a dress of thin, wheat-coloured silk, no cloak to protect her from the bite of the wind.

'You've had your pleasure! she cried in a voice high with panic and petulance. 'You can't walk away from your duty to me now!

Ethel saw a look of impatience cross Gawin's face. She could tell that he was the worse for drink — as were more than half the young men in the hall tonight. Swaying forward, he braced his arm against the wall. 'Oh, but I can, sweetheart. It wasn't just my pleasure, don't deny it. Besides, how do I know it's my duty? More than one dog will mount a bitch in heat.

Her hand shot out towards his face, but he caught her wrist with a soldier's reflexes and twisted it round, forcing her to her knees in the settling snow. Then he pushed her away. 'Find someone less choosy, he sneered, and lurched back into the hall.

Ethel watched the encounter with tightening lips. Gawin was a decent, if shallow, young man when the drink was not upon him, but there was no excuse for what she had just witnessed. Knowing his personality, she could see that seducing the Countess's haughtiest maid had been a challenge impossible to resist. Now that the consequences had come home to roost, he did not want to know.

Although Rohese was about as approachable as a stinging nettle, Ethel limped forward, intending to help her up and offer comfort. 'Child, come within before you freeze, she said gently, and extended her hand to the weeping young woman on the ground.

Rohese flung her off and struggled to her feet, her beautiful gown marred by a damp patch of melting, muddy snow. 'Leave me alone, you hag! she sobbed, her face raw with pain. 'Your nostrums don't work! He doesn't love me and I haven't bled! Shoving Ethel out of her way so hard that the elderly midwife staggered, Rohese fled across the snowy bailey towards the gate.

Ethel cried for her to stop but her voice was snatched by

a swirling gust of wind and her chest cramped painfully. Knowing the warning sign too well and unable to pursue, the old lady turned and made her way laboriously towards the hall.

Rohese rounded a corner of the bailey, and the full force of the wintry night slashed through her garments like a knife. Shuddering, the tears icy on her cheeks, she pressed herself against a storeshed wall and hugged her frozen arms.

With a soft jink of chain-mail, a man materialised out of the whirling darkness, a spear in his right hand, a shield on his left arm. A thick cloak blew back from his shoulders, its lining one of glossy squirrel fur.

Rohese was about to scream when she realised that it was one of the guards on his rounds.

'Well, well, said Randal de Mohun softly. 'If I'm not mistaken, it's one of the Countess's maids, and in need of a little warming.


Against banks of mounding white, the river Avon flowed like black glass. The snow struck its polished surface and vanished with neither sound nor trace. It was the same for the body. A single swirl and eddy in the obsidian surface, then nothing to show that it had ever been cast upon the water.

Within an hour, even the footprints had vanished, covered in a powdering of white.

Chapter 13

The hose were woven of the softest red silk with ribbon garters of the same. Catrin gazed at them in pure delight. Fond though she had been of her old pair, these surpassed them a hundred fold.

'Another reason I was delayed. Oliver smiled at her pleasure. 'I had to scour Gloucester for them. Fortunately, I found a hosier who fashions the Empress's undergarments.

Winding her arms around his neck, she kissed him. 'So I'll be wearing hose fit for a queen!

'I hazard they will look better on you than they would on Mathilda.

'Shall I show you?

His eyes lit up and, with a husky laugh, he gestured her to continue.

Catrin was wearing her chemise, ready to start the day. Outside, Saint Stephen's morn was dawning in pallid grey light. The fire had almost died, just the faintest glimmer of red among the ashes, and the room was cold, but she cared little for that just now. Last night had set a gloss on her world that nothing could diminish. Her only guilt was that they had denied Ethel her bed, but Catrin suspected that the old lady would be highly pleased at the turn of events.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she raised her chemise to a tantalising level, took one of the hose and arched her toes into it. Then she drew it slowly up over her calf, watching Oliver all the time. When she reached her knee, she paused. 'How good a lady's maid are you? she enquired, and dangled one of the binding ribbons at him.

'I have small experience, but large ambition and a great willingness to learn, he answered with a grin and, taking the ribbon, accepted her invitation to slide the hose on to her thigh and bind it in place. Of course, as she had known, he could not resist exploring further. His fingertips were delicious, but she yelped at the prickle of his beard stubble.

'By the Virgin, came Ethel's voice from without. 'I thought if I left you two alone last night, I'd at least have my house back by the morning!

Oliver shot backwards and up, colliding with a bunch of drying herbs tied to the rafters. Aromatic scraps of leaf showered down on him. Catrin flailed for a moment like a cast-over crab, righted herself and dragged her undershift down over her knees.

Ethel unhooked the door and stumped into the room. 'God's bones, you've been so busy kindling your own fire, you've let mine go out too! she snorted, and cast her gimlet eye over the couple. There was a gleam in her expression, but Catrin could sense the old woman's irritation.

So too, it seemed, could Oliver. He had already been wearing his shirt and braies. Now he quickly donned his tunic and chausses, and set about rescuing the fire from the brink of extinction. Catrin flashed him a rueful glance and pulled on her dress.

'If you're going to live here, best find a space for a pallet of your own, Ethel muttered, sitting down on her stool and glowering at the embers. 'If, of course, you've thought that far. Her tone was so crotchety that Catrin wondered if she had misread Ethel's earlier attempts at being matchmaker.

'To be honest, neither of us have thought much beyond the moment, Oliver replied mildly enough, but his eyes were wary as he gently piled dry twigs upon the embers.

'Hah, then you should.

'In our own good time, Catrin said with a frown.

Ethel chewed her lips and scowled. 'Time and tide wait for no man — and no woman neither, she retorted ominously.

Oliver blew gently on the fire and soon tiny flames were licking and crackling around the twigs. Leaving it to gain hold, he fetched a folded-up bundle from the corner of the room and presented it to Ethel. 'What's this?

'Your Twelfth-night gift, but I thought you should have it now to sweeten your mood. I'm sorry if we kept you from your bed last night.

She gave him a severe look. 'I'll not be bought, she said, but began unfolding it all the same, waving him aside with a tetchy 'I can manage, as he stooped to help her.

Casting a glance heavenwards, Catrin swung the cauldron over the new fire. Ethel was always grouchy in the mornings but she seemed to be uncommonly so today.

Oliver had bought the old lady a mantle of fine, soft, green wool. It was warmer than a cloak for it was donned over the head, the full drapes of fabric falling to the front and back. Nor did Ethel have to fumble with a cloak pin to secure it.

'You stand need to buy me fripperies like this when your own cloak is nigh on threadbare, Ethel said gruffly, the suspicion of a glitter in her eyes.

'The Countess has promised me a new cloak as my own Twelfth-night gift, Oliver shrugged. 'And for escorting the Empress, I'm to receive an extra day's pay. Don't go looking gift horses in the mouth.