'I have it here. Catrin fished the knotwork necklace from the throat of her dress. 'Did you fear I would take it off?
'No, but I wondered. Ethel looked pleased. A spark of colour had returned to her cheeks and her breathing had improved.
'I wondered too, but I don't any more. Catrin glanced over her shoulder to the far end of the room where mother and child were being feted by the other women.
'Aye, it's a miracle and a mystery, Ethel said. 'One I never grow tired of seeing. Recovered, she rose to her feet and turned towards the door, but before she had taken more than a step Richard appeared at Catrin's side.
He was wearing a clean, if slightly large, tunic that had been found for him yesterday, and from somewhere he had obtained a comb and smoothed the night-tangles from his hair. 'Can I go and find Thomas? he demanded.
Catrin nodded. 'If you want, she said, but caught his sleeve to hold him back. 'You slept well?
Richard wrinkled his nose. 'I didn't dream if that's what you mean, but all the noise woke me up. He shrugged. 'I'm glad the baby's alive.
Catrin felt the tug of resistance against her hand and let him go. He bolted from the room like a young hare, and the midwife shook her head with envy. 'Wish my old legs were as springy as that, she said, adding thoughtfully, 'He does well to shoulder the burdens he has.
'I suppose Oliver told you about him.
Etheldreda limped towards the door. 'He told me enough but I still have eyes to see. God's Mother, if I had to rely on information from Master Oliver, I'd still be sitting at my fire now! Sometimes it's like drawing a tooth!
Stifling a smile, Catrin escorted Ethel down the draughty, winding stair. As they reached the foot, the new father greeted them on his eager way to see his infant son. 'A boy! he cried. 'It's a boy!
'Aye, so it is, my lord, said Etheldreda drily. Geoffrey grabbed her, plonked two smacking kisses on her cheeks, pressed a silver penny in her hand, and shot on up the stairs.
Ethel rubbed her cheek and chuckled. 'I warrant he'll not still be sober the other side of prime.
Catrin glanced up the stairs to the sound of his receding footfalls and warmed to Edon's husband a little more.
She escorted Ethel as far as the bailey, whereupon the midwife insisted that she could see herself the rest of the way to her shelter. 'I'm for a cup of ale and a wink of shut-eye, but I'll return to look in on mother and babe before noon.
'What about all those stairs?
The whiskery mouth pursed stubbornly. 'I'll manage, young woman, she said and then looked sidelong at Catrin. 'Leastways for today, while I show you what to do. After that you can check on mistress Edon and report to me.
'But I don't… I'm not… Catrin began.
'You will and you are, Ethel interrupted firmly, her tone brooking no argument. 'Leave me now, I can manage from here.
Chewing her underlip, Catrin watched the indomitable old woman make her way towards the main camp. Only four days ago, Catrin had known what to expect from daily life. Now she felt as if she were a stone, rolling down a hill and gathering speed with terrifying momentum. But it was exhilarating too.
Turning back to the keep, she was surprised to see Rohese de Bayvel hurrying across the bailey in the direction of the camp. The seamstress was wearing a hooded cloak, but Catrin recognised the skilful embroidery on the hem of Rohese's gown, and the shoes with their distinctive silk braid side-lacings. The image of the haughty embroideress entering the human stew of Earl Robert's camp of her own volition, and at a run, was enough to make Catrin stare with widening eyes. She remembered the furtive exchange of money for a pouch of herbs and wondered if Rohese had taken a lover among the Earl's common troops. She was curious and interested, but not shocked. After serving Amice for three years, there was very little that could surprise her about men and women. 'Have you lost him again?
Stifling a scream, Catrin spun round and discovered Oliver grinning behind her. His hair was wet and bore the sleek sheen of silver gilt, and there was a barber's nick on the point of his chin, showing a pin-prick bead of red. It was the first time that she had seen him unencumbered by his mail. He seemed taller and thinner without the bulk of hauberk and gambeson, the dark blue tunic emphasising both traits. The colour was expensive, affordable only to the nobility, but the garment bore evidence of hard wear. There was a patch in one elbow of a slightly different shade of blue, and the cuffs bore much evidence of darning.
'Lost who? Catrin asked, momentarily taken aback by his sudden and changed appearance.
'Richard of course.
'What? She rallied her wits. 'Oh, no. He's gone off with Thomas FitzRainald again. 'Did he wake last night?
She shook her head. 'Not for dreams, but he was woken. She told him about Edon, but avoided the details about her part in the baby's delivery. 'I was escorting Ethel back to her shelter.
His expression remained neutral as she mentioned the childbirth, but he seemed eager to change the subject. 'Have you broken your fast yet?
She shook her head.
'Neither have I, and they'll be serving bread and cheese in the hall by now. He held out his darned sleeve in a formal gesture. She hesitated for a moment, then laid her own along it. She was wearing her blue-green undergown, and in quality and wear it matched his own appearance. Suddenly she was glad that she was not dressed in the rich, dark red tunic.
'I did not think that you would return so soon, she said, as they entered the hall and found a place at one of the rapidly filling trestles.
'It would have taken us longer, he admitted, 'but we had help. A group of mercenaries happened by on their way to seek employment with Earl Robert, and they lent us their aid. Drawing his knife, he expertly divided a flat loaf of bread between them.
'Mercenaries, Catrin repeated, the word emerging with revulsion.
He laid the knife on the board. 'I know their leader. He saved my life a long time ago when I was a pilgrim. If not for Randal's intervention, I would have been slaughtered by brigands and my bones scattered by the vultures. We journeyed together for a six-month and I owe him a debt from that time — not only for my life, but for the lessons he taught me. He tore a morsel off his portion of bread and put it in his mouth.
'Then how did they come to 'happen by'? Catrin asked. 'Penfoss was a small settlement serving a hunting lodge. Hardly the place for mercenaries to seek employment.
'It has a water trough for thirsty horses, he said, swallowing and pulling off another chunk of bread. There were tense lines at his eye corners. 'And it is simple enough to find — there's that wide cart-track leading through the trees. He threw her a sideways glance, his grey eyes bright with hostility. 'Randal was riding a bay stallion and his shield was blue and red.
Catrin took up her own portion of the loaf and picked crumbs from the broken crust. She knew that she owed him an apology, but the words stuck in her throat. When he spoke of mercenaries, all she could see in her mind's eye was the wanton destruction at Penfoss.
'And if he had found us as the others found us, what then? she demanded. 'Would watering the horses have been enough?
Oliver chewed the bread with powerful rotations of his jaw. A flush spread from his throat to the flaxen hair curling and drying on his browline. 'You go too far, he said huskily. 'I owe Randal my life. Insult him and you insult me.
'I… I didn't insult him, or you. I just asked a question. Catrin flushed as well, anger brimming in her eyes. 'And you would ask it too if you had been a witness to… She broke off, unable to continue. Crumbs showered the board as she dug her fingernail into the soft, brown core of the bread.
He looked away, swallowed, and after a moment sighed and looked back. 'Randal de Mohun has led a far from blameless life, but that does not make him an ogre. You accused me of judging Amice. Should I now accuse you of judging Randal?
