'Like a grain between two millstones, she repeated, nodding her head. 'And what if Simon de Senlis cannot spare you aid?

'Don't worry, he will. Wickham's too important to lose. The words rolled nonchalantly off his tongue but he didn't look at her as he spoke.

So important that they had given it to an untried mercenary? Catrin bit her tongue. Louis's temper was as much in evidence as his charm these days. She wondered what she had ever seen in him, and almost immediately acknowledged that it was his physical presence; the magnetism of a lithe, prowling animal. Now that she had a child to consider, that magnetism did not exert the same irresistible pull. If they argued, they were no longer reconciled in bed.

'Some of the castle folk might see your slipping away as desertion, she said as neutrally as she could. In truth, she was one of them.

'I do not care what they see, Louis snapped. 'I am doing this for their hides as much as my own. His olive complexion darkened beneath her cool stare.

'Of course you are, she said. 'We'll see the proof of it within the week. Head carried high, she went to the stairs that led up to the hall.

'Where are you going?

'To tend to Rosamund. After all, you have no more need of me here, have you? She looked round and arched her brow. 'You can add me to the tally of salt beef, stockfish and serfs that you leave behind.

Louis glared at her. 'All I have had from you since that brat was born is piss-vinegar looks and sour words. I am your husband; you will give me respect.

Catrin reached the top of the stairs and swished round to face him. 'If you return from Northampton within the week and lift this siege, then I will accord you every honour and respect, she said. 'But if you do not, then I will surrender this keep to de Vere's men, return to Robert of Gloucester at Bristol and seek an annulment of this hell-bound marriage! Her voice began to rise and crack.

'To Robert of Gloucester, or to that knight of his, Pascal? Louis snarled. 'I see how much score you set by your marriage oath!

Catrin was furious. 'Do not talk to me of oaths and fidelity, she spat. 'I am not the one who has broken faith. She pushed beyond the thick oak door into the hall. He followed hard on her heels and for a moment she thought that he was going to spin her round and cast her head over heels down

the undercroft stairs. She braced herself and drew breath to scream, but instead he swept past her, his stride full

of anger.

'You leave and I swear I will brand you a whore before all and sundry and deny that brat up there any claim on me, he said without stopping, and loud enough for the nearest servants and soldiers to hear. 'It's probably not mine anyway. My loins would have begotten a son. Catrin gasped and recoiled as if he had physically slapped her. Tears of rage brimmed and spilled. The very force of her emotion left her incoherent and bereft of defence. She felt the curious eyes of witnesses, the pity, the gleams of salacious speculation. Within the hour it would be all over the keep and grossly distorted. The Lord and Lady had quarrelled. The Lady was accused of whoredom and foisting a cuckoo on her husband. They already blamed her for wasting money on tapestries and fine glass windows.

She swiped the back of her hand across her face and glared after her husband's retreating form. 'Oliver made just as many promises as you, she said in a shaking, tear-blocked voice, 'and he kept them all.

As once before, Catrin bid her husband farewell with a turned back and cold lips. She did not go down to the hall to watch him and half a dozen of his best men go out into the bailey on silent feet, their clothing dark and their faces smeared with earth. She did not lie awake in bed, listening for the cry to go up that they had been captured sneaking through the lines, for she knew that they would escape. Like a thief, Louis could move like a wraith. Like a thief, he took everything and gave nothing back.

That was not strictly true, she admitted to herself as she lay in the great bed, her body curled protectively around her tiny daughter. Whatever rumours he strewed abroad concerning the child's paternity, he had given her Rosamund and he had given her heart-sickness and grief.

Perhaps he would return within the week with a force to relieve the siege, but she knew in her heart that he would not. As always he had left others to pay his price, including a defenceless infant. She pressed her lips against Rosamund's brow and vowed to keep the baby safe whatever the cost.


The promised week came and went with no sign of a relieving force. Once their gates were almost breached and only a timely deluge of boiling water and the splitting of the ram log saved Wickham from being overrun. Their supplies dwindled and the stew became progressively less nourishing. The last bundles of arrows were brought from the undercroft and the soldiers muttered behind their hands.

Apart from the time she spent in her chamber suckling and tending Rosamund, Catrin made herself conspicuous around the keep. She took all of her meals in the hall and made a point of mingling with all the castle folk, from the ageing knight left in command of the garrison to the youngest laundry maid, and even Wulfhild, her husband's young mistress. His former mistress now, Catrin thought, as the ninth day dawned without sight or sign of help.

'He promised me a silk dress, Wulfhild sniffed, knuckling her eyes. Her hair fell in snarled blond tangles and had clearly not been combed or tended for several days, and her face had the gaunt, hollow look that came from lack of food and sleep. A mound of laundry gave off a sweaty smell beside a cauldron that had yet to be kindled. 'He promised me a house of my own with hens and geese and a cow.

'If that is all he promised, then you are fortunate, Catrin said grimly. 'You're not the first, and I doubt you'll be the last. Kneeling down, she set about lighting the fire herself.

'He will come back, won't he?

Catrin looked at the snuffling young woman, and tried to convince herself that the conversation was real. Louis's mistress asking his wife for sympathy and reassurance. Small licks of flame fluttered beneath the cauldron as the dry twigs caught fire. Standing up, Catrin dusted off her hands. 'If he does, then I will not be here, and if you had the tiniest morsel of sense, you would not cry another tear.

'What do you mean, you won't be here? The girl's eyes widened.

Catrin rubbed her thumb on her forefinger. 'We cannot hold out for many more days, and why should we? She tightened her lips. 'I won't let people starve for my husband's selfishness.

'But… but what about the soldiers out there? What will they do to us if we let them in? Wulfhild put her hand to her throat.

'We're not just going to "let them in", Catrin said. 'We'll bargain with them first. She clicked her fingers at the laundry tub. 'You do what you are paid for and see to that mound of linen. It's not as if we're going to run out of water, is it?

Leaving the laundry, she went to her chamber and made swift preparations. Her actions had been brewing in her mind for some while. Time and again she had imagined them, so now each movement was clear. What she had not imagined was the overwhelming sense of impatience and urgency. She had to go, and immediately. If not, Louis might just appear on the horizon and blight her entire future.

She donned her two best dresses, one over the other, two pairs of hose, two loin-cloths, two braided girdles. After Penfoss, she was wary of possessing only one set of clothes. Besides, the weather was bitterly cold and she needed all the protection she could get. Her cloak came next, its lining made of fleece, and she pulled her brown hood over the top of her wimple.

Gently and tenderly, she lifted Rosamund from her cradle and wrapped the baby in her blankets until all that could be seen was a tiny triangle of eyes, nose and mouth. Placid as ever, Rosamund gurgled and blew bubbles at her mother. For the briefest moment, Catrin was distracted from her purpose and cooed at her daughter, but urgency was swift to return.

Without a backward glance at the rich hangings, the silk bedcover and tear-grey window glass, she swept from the room to find Berold, the captain of the garrison.

He gazed at her askance when she ordered him to ride out with her under a flag of truce to parley with the enemy commander. 'Lord Louis said that we were to hold out until his return, he said, and put his hand on his sword hilt in a gesture both defensive and aggressive.

'Judgement day will come before that happens, Catrin answered with asperity. 'Within the week, he said, but since when has a week lasted ten days? She looked at the balding, middle-aged knight and, amidst her irritation, felt a softening of compassion. Louis had promoted Berold beyond his competence. He was a good follower, but had no flair for leading men. 'You served old Lord Humphrey, didn't you?

'Aye, for nigh on twenty years. He bristled his sparse silver beard at her. 'What of it? Are you saying that I'm not fit to serve Lord Louis?

'No, she soothed quickly. 'I commend your experience. What I am saying is that Lord Louis is not fit to be your master.

He gave her a suspicious look and fingered the hilt of his sword.

Catrin struggled to swallow her impatience. 'Tell me, in all honesty, do you believe that Lord Louis will return with more troops?

He chewed his lower lip. 'He entrusted me with the defence of this keep. I would not want to pay him in false coin.

'It is you who is being paid in false coin, Catrin said sharply. 'To my husband, loyalty is just another side of a