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.
Her thoughts were abruptly curtailed by the sight of two men slinking out from a noisome entry to block their path. They brandished nail-studded clubs and their garments were patched and tattered although, incongruously, one of them wore an expensive wool hat trimmed with ermine fur. Ethel tightened her grip on her stick and drew herself upright. Catrin backed up, shielding Ethel with her body.
The ruffian with the cap smiled, revealing a mouthful of worn-down teeth. 'Two plump pigeons ripe for the plucking. Give us your pouches. He thrust out his free hand.
Catrin's breathing quickened. 'We have no money. We're honest midwives about our duties. Let us go our way in peace.
'No such thing as an honest midwife, the other sneered, and took a menacing step forward. 'Come on, your money now, or you'll make the acquaintance of my cudgel.
'Touch either of us, and I will set a curse on you! spat Ethel, shaping her hand like a claw. 'I can, you know, and by Hecate, I will.
They hesitated, licking their lips, looking at each other. Catrin tried to feel for the small, sharp knife at her belt without being conspicuous. She also filled her lungs with a huge breath, ready to scream for aid at the top of her voice.
'Reckon as we're damned already, the man with the hat said. 'Your curses mean nothing, old woman, except they'll send you to hell before us. He made a grab for Ethel, whilst his companion leaped on Catrin. She released the scream, shattering the morning air with its power, and at the same time jerked her knee hard upward. Her assailant recoiled, clutching his genitals, and Catrin whipped the small dagger from its sheath, full knowing that it was an act of bravado. She could cut umbilical cords and prepare herbs with the blade, but never had she used it in aggression or even self-defence.
She dodged a blow from the cudgel, but was not fast enough, and it caught her arm, breaking no bones but severely bruising. As Ethel was thrown to the ground by the other thief, Catrin screamed again in desperation and prayed for doors to open and people to come.
Oliver spent a restless, uncomfortable night. Being one of the Earl's hearth knights meant just that, and he had to sleep beside the fire in the great hall, rolled in his cloak. The snores and coughs of the other men kept him awake, as did the knowledge that Ethel and Catrin were abroad in the city. The fact that they had an escort dampened his worry, but did not quench it entirely. They were still so vulnerable. And yet he dared not protest too hard lest he be accused of obstructing and stifling.
'Women, he muttered to himself as he turned over for what seemed the hundredth time.
'Aye, bless them, muttered Geoffrey FitzMar who was rolled up beside him.
Despite himself, Oliver gave a short laugh. 'Aye, bless them, he repeated, and closed his eyes.
For a while he slept, and chased brightly coloured images through his dreams. He was in a garden looking for Emma, but he could not find her. Amice was there and she kept pointing towards a grove of apple trees. But when he entered the grove in search of his wife, all he discovered was a mound of green earth that looked like an overgrown grave. He turned away, but when he looked back Catrin was sitting on it, stark naked except for her
