'The lord wants you,' he said, flustered and out of breath. 'At once. I had trouble finding you.'

Alys shrugged indifferently. 'Tell him you couldn't find me,' she said. 'I walked out of Lady Catherine's room without leave. I lost my temper. I don't want to serve her, or him, or anyone. She'll have run to him to complain of me. I won't go.'

The servant shrugged unsympathetically. 'You have to,' he said. 'They're all there. The young lord and the shrew, the old lord and the priest. Even Eliza Herring. Now they want you. You'd best go, and quickly too.'

Alys' blue eyes sharpened. 'What are they all doing?' she asked. 'What is Father Stephen doing there? And Lord Hugo? What do they want with me?'

'It's a row,' he said. 'Lady Catherine is calling up a storm and the old lord is taking her side, I think. But you have to go.'

Alys nodded. 'I'm coming,' she said. 'Run and tell them I am on my way.'

She rubbed her face with the corner of her sleeve and pushed her fingers through her tangle of curls, pushing the longer ringlets behind her ears and pulling the hood forwards into place, so that not a scrap of her hair showed around her face. Then she pulled down the long stomacher of the blue gown, shook out the plain blue underskirt, and then crossed the yard to the door of the great hall. She walked through the hall, where a lad was heaving logs on the fire to keep the room warm and ready for supper, and through the lobby at the back of the dais, to the tower. Up the stairs, through the guardroom with a nod like a queen to the lounging soldiers and a servant, and up to Lord Hugh's door. It stood open. They were waiting for her. Alys, composed, her head high and her face defiant, stepped into the bright room and heard the door swing shut behind her.

She faced the old lord in his chair by the fire. She was dimly aware of Lady Catherine standing behind him, her hand possessively on the carved back of his chair, glittering with triumph. The priest stood away from the fire by the table in the window; before him was a black bible and a silver salver covered with white linen. Next to him stood Eliza, her eyes wide with terror. Alys glanced at her and then saw Eliza's hands. Both of them were clenched into fists with the thumb between the second and third fingers, to make the sign of the cross, the old protection against a witch. Alys' blue eyes became a little darker. She was starting to know what she should fear.

Furthest away from them all was the young Lord Hugo. He was sprawled in a chair with his riding boots thrust out before him, his hands dug deep into the pockets of his breeches, his face dark and sullen under his cap. He met Alys' swift glance with an angry glare which was full of warning.

Alys was silently alert to her danger. She looked back to the old lord again and scanned his face. He was sallow and his hands resting on the carved arm of his chair were trembling.

'There's a grave accusation laid against you, Alys,' he said. 'The gravest accusation a Christian can face.' Alys met his gaze squarely. 'What is it, my lord?' she asked. 'Witchcraft,' he said.

Lady Catherine gave a little irrepressible sigh, like a woman at the height of pleasure. Alys did not look at her, but her colour ebbed, her face paled.

'It is said that you have foretold my death,' the old lord said. 'That you have said that you will be the lady of the castle and bear Lord Hugo a son and heir. It is said that you have foretold that all this will happen in just two years from now.'

Alys shook her head. 'It is not true, my lord,' she said confidently.

Hugo leaned forward. 'Was it a dream, Alys?' he prompted. 'D'you remember nothing?'

Alys glanced in his direction, and then turned back to the old lord. 'I did not say it,' she said.

The old lord glanced towards Father Stephen. 'It is possible that the girl was in a trance and is now speaking the truth as she can recall it,' the priest said fairly. 'If she were a true seer she might do that. I have heard of some very saintly prophets who have foretold the future without knowing what words they were saying. There are records in the gospel, the speaking in tongues and other miracles. But also it can be a trap from the devil.' 'D'you have the Sight, Alys?' the old lord asked. 'Hardly,' she said tartly. When they stared at her in surprise she said sharply: 'If I had the Sight, my lord, I would not stand here accused of witchcraft by Lady Catherine who has hated me since the day she first saw me. If I had the Sight I would have been well away from the castle before this day. Indeed, if I had the Sight I would not have been helpless at Morach's cottage when your men came for me and took me against my will.'

The old lord chuckled unwillingly. 'Then what of these words of yours, these predictions, Alys?' he asked.

Alys, sweating under the dark blue gown, laughed. 'A dream, my lord,' she said. 'A foolish dream. I should have known better than to dream it, and better than to speak it. But I was drunk and very full of desire.'

Hugo, leaning forward, saw the sheen of sweat on her pale forehead. 'You were pretending?' he asked.

She turned and looked straight into his face, her blue eyes as honest as a child. 'Of course, my lord,' she said. 'D'you think I don't know that you take women and use them and cast them aside? I wanted you to desire me, and I wanted you to cleave to me, and I wanted you to think me more than any ordinary wench. So I pretended to have the Sight and I promised you all that your heart desires. I meant only to trick you into being constant to me.'

Hugo's eyes narrowed. 'You have wanted me all along?' he asked.

Alys faced him squarely. 'Oh yes,' she said. 'I thought you knew.'

He heard the lie as loud and as clear as plainsong. But he nodded. 'That explains it then,' he said. 'Wenches' tricks and silly games.' He got to his feet and stretched. His head brushed the carved and painted beams. 'Have you done, Sire?' he asked his father. 'The wench was laying snares to trap me – ' he grinned ruefully ' -I was caught well enough.'

He turned to Lady Catherine. 'I owe you an apology, Madam, I have been cunt-struck – and not for the first time. When we are alone together I will make you handsome amends.' He gave a low seductive laugh. 'I shall treat you as you command me,' he said.

Catherine's hand went to the base of her throat as if to hold her pulse steady. 'It's not over yet,' she said.

The old lord was settling back in his chair, hooking a footstool into place with one foot. 'Why not?' he asked. The wench has pleaded guilty to lying and explained her prophecy is a false one. We can see well enough why she should lie. The castle's a big enough place, Catherine, I'll keep her out of your way. You can sleep easy in your bed with Hugo restored to you. The wench is a liar and a strumpet.' He shot a little smile at Alys. 'Nothing worse.'

'She should take the ordeal,' Lady Catherine said. 'That was what we all agreed. She should take the ordeal.'

Alys took a half-breath of fear before she could stop herself. Lady Catherine beamed at her. The colour was draining from the girl's face, she looked ready to faint.

'We are agreed that you should take an ordeal for witchcraft,' Lady Catherine said silkily. 'If you are indeed guilty of nothing worse than a bungled seduction then you will have nothing at all to fear.'

Hugo put out a commanding hand to Catherine and she moved reluctantly from the shelter of the old lord's chair to stand beside her husband. He slid his hand around her waist and looked down into her plain, strained face.

'Come, my lady, have done,' he said. His voice was low. Catherine swayed towards him like an ash tree in a breeze. 'Let us go to your chamber and leave Alys to her clerk duties. I am cured well enough of my lust for her, and if the son by Alys in her prediction was a lie and a bait, then perhaps I shall get a son on you.'

He turned towards the door with his arm still around her waist and she, half drugged with her ready desire, went with him. It was done. It was nearly done. Alys froze, afraid to move, conspiring not to break Hugo's spell, willing herself to be invisible. The priest was silent, looking from Catherine to Hugo, and back to Alys' wary stillness, letting them settle it as they chose. Lord Hugh was weary of it all, satisfied with the outcome. It was done.

'No!' Lady Catherine cried with sudden energy. She broke out of Hugo's encircling arm back to the old lord. 'If she is innocent then she need not fear the ordeal. We have to test her before we can leave your health in her care, my lord. That is what we agreed to do. That is what we should do. And I will not leave this room until it is done!'

'Catherine!' Hugo said commandingly. 'You are my wife, I order you to leave this matter alone. It is settled to all our satisfaction.'

'Not to mine!' She rounded on him, panting. 'Not to my satisfaction! Not to my satisfaction! You would lead me out of the room like a bleating lamb, my lord. And I know why! It is to spare her the ordeal! Confess it! You do not want me! You have never wanted me! It is to spare your harlot the task of showing she is not a witch! And why?' Her voice grew louder, more shrill. 'Because you are bewitched into shielding her. Shielding her from the rightful anger of your father and you are ready to risk his life, and my life, so that you can have her!' She dropped on her knees before the old lord. 'Test her!' she demanded, like a woman begging for a lifetime's gift. 'Test the witch! Make her take the ordeal.'

The old lord looked at Hugo. 'Tell me the truth,' he said gruffly. 'Are you shielding her from this? If there's any chance she is a witch you should speak, Hugo. We none of us can dare to play with the devil's arts. Not even for love of a maid.'