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the regent’s command tent to discuss tactics with him and the other senior men in the host. As my most experienced knight, Hugh will accompany me, but I want you to come as well. You will stand with Hugh and listen carefully. Some of the other nobles don’t trust me, and there will be doubt and suspicion there. Your quick wits may pick up on something which the rest of us miss, so you will take note of everything which is said and report to me afterwards. Clear?’
    Edwin nodded. ‘Yes, my lord.’
    Before he had time to frame any questions, he was dismissed peremptorily with a wave of the hand.
    Edwin left the tent, his head buzzing so hard that he tripped on one of the ropes outside the door. The regent? The nobles of the kingdom? He was to stand in the same place as these exalted men and listen to their counsel? What if he couldn’t discern anything in the way the earl wanted? What if …?
    He was interrupted by Martin, who had followed him out.
    ‘Edwin, you’re a lucky man. What I would give to be able to accompany my lord into the regent’s own tent!’ Edwin felt momentarily guilty, but Martin was continuing. ‘Still, much better for my lord to have you than me – you’re bound to discover something which I wouldn’t realise.’
    Edwin wished Martin wouldn’t do that all the time, but before he could say anything he was struck by another thought. ‘Do I look well enough to appear in such company? I’m not a knight, have no surcoat …’
    Martin looked him up and down critically. ‘The knights have disarmed now they’re in camp: they won’t be wearing their mail or anything, they’ll be dressed normally. Still … hmm …’ he put out a hand and span Edwin round as he considered, ‘… you don’t want to look too untidy; you might want to go and put on your best tunic.’ He turned and disappeared back inside the tent.
    Edwin gulped. He was already wearing his best tunic.

     
    Alys had already checked the gate at the bottom of the yard, but she did so again, unable to help herself. Of course it hadn’t come unfastened since the last time she looked at it, but she was driven to go over and over everything she could possibly do to protect her family – what was left of her family.
    Eventually satisfied that it was still shut, she turned her attention to the rest of the yard. The four houses were all close together, but they were of a fair size, so the communal space was quite large by Lincoln standards – all the better, as they needed it for the weaving sheds, as well as the latrine and the vegetable patches. Her own vegetables and herbs, outside the kitchen door, were the worse for wear, but she would have to eke out what remained as best she could. Those of her neighbours weren’t in much better state, and the one at the end of the block was overgrown with weeds, had been since the Appyltons fled the city some weeks back. They had all tried hard to cover up the fact that the place was empty, for if it became common knowledge it would cause trouble with pilferers or housebreakers. Fortunately the rest of them had stayed, with Mistress Guildersleeve on the one side acting almost as a mother to them all. And although Mistress Pinel, on the other side, hadn’t left her house for weeks, her husband had been so helpful, especially since …
    Tears came to her eyes and she fought hard to stop them. Crying wouldn’t help. She tried to think about something else. She needed to go out and buy something to eat – that would take her mind off everything else for a while, for buying food was something of an effort these days and would require all her concentration.
    She fetched her basket from the kitchen, checked twice that she had shut the door properly, and walked through the alley that led from the backyard into the street, fastening the gate behind her. In the open space she was immediately wary. Where were the French? Who might be stalking the streets today? She looked about her as she