"Sit you down by Lady Katherine and be still," Eliwys said. She brought her over to Kivrin and almost pushed her onto the bench. "You are grown too wild."

Agnes huddled next to Kivrin, trying to decide whether to cry or not. Kivrin had lost count, but she picked up where she had left off. Forty-six, forty-seven.

"I want my bell," Agnes said, climbing off the bench.

"Nay, we must sit quietly," Kivrin said. She took Agnes onto her lap.

"Tell me of Christmas."

"I can't, Agnes. I can't remember."

"Do you remember naught that you can tell me?"

I remember it all, Kivrin thought. The shops are full of ribbons, satin and mylar and velvet, red and gold and blue, brighter even than my woad-dyed cloak, and there's light everywhere and music. Great Tom and Magdalen's bells and Christmas carols.

She thought of the Carfax carillon, trying to play "It Came Upon the Midnight Clear," and the tired old piped in carols in the shops along the High. Those carols haven't even been written yet, Kivrin thought, and felt a sudden wash of homesickness.

"I would ring my bell," Agnes said, struggling to get off Kivrin's lap. "Give it to me." She held out her wrist.

"I will tie it on if you will lie down a little on the bench beside me," Kivrin said.

She started to pucker up into a pout again. "Must I sleep?"

"No. I will tell you a story," Kivrin said, untying the bell from her own wrist, where she had put it for safekeeping. "Once — " she said and then stopped, wondering if 'once upon a time' dated as far back as 1320 and what sort of stories the contemps told their children. Stories about wolves and about witches whose skin turned black when they were given extreme unction.

"There once was a maiden," she said, tying the bell on Agnes's chubby wrist. The red ribbon had already begun to fray at the edges. It wouldn't tolerate many more knottings and unknottings. She bent over it. "A maiden who lived — "

"Is this the maiden?" a woman's voice said.

Kivrin looked up. It was Bloet's sister Yvolde, with Imeyne behind her. She stared at Kivrin, her mouth pinched with disapproval, and then shook her head.

"Nay, this is not Uluric's daughter," she said. "That maid was short and dark."

"Nor de Ferrers' ward?" Imeyne said.

"She is dead," Yvolde said. "Do you remember naught of who you are?" she asked Kivrin.

"Nay, good lady," Kivrin said, remembering too late that she was supposed to keep her eyes modestly on the floor.

"She was struck upon the head," Agnes volunteered.

"Yet you remember your name and how to speak. Are you of good family?"

"I do not remember my family, good lady," she said, trying to keep her voice meek.

She sniffed. "She sounds of the west. Have you sent to Bath for news?"

"Nay," Imeyne said. "My son's wife would wait on his arrival. You have heard naught from Oxenford?"

"Nay, but there is much illness there," Yvolde said.

Rosemund came up. "Know you Lady Katherine's family, Lady Yvolde?" she asked.

Yvolde turned her pinched look on her. "Nay. Where is the brooch my brother gave you?"

"I…'tis on my cloak," Rosemund stammered.

"Do you not honor his gifts enough to wear them?"

"Go and fetch it," Lady Imeyne said. "I would see this brooch."

Rosemund's chin went up, but she went over to the outer wall where the cloaks hung.

"She shows as little eagerness for my brother's gifts as for his presence," Yvolde said. "She spoke not once to him at supper."

Rosemund came back, carrying her green cloak with the brooch pinned to it. She showed it wordlessly to Imeyne. "I would see it," Agnes said, and Rosemund bent down to show her.

The brooch had red stones set on a round gold ring, and the pin in the center. It had no hinge, but had to be pulled up and stuck through the garment. Letters ran around the outside of the ring: "Io suiicen lui dami amo."

"What does it say?" Agnes said, pointing to the letters ringing the gold circle.

"I know not," Rosemund said in a tone that clearly meant, "And I don't care."

Yvolde's jaw tightened, and Kivrin said hastily, "It says, 'You are here in place of the friend I love,' Agnes," and then realized sickly what she had done. She looked up at Imeyne, but Imeyne didn't seem to have noticed anything.

"Such words should be on your breast instead of hanging on a peg," Imeyne said. She took the brooch and pinned it to the front of Rosemund's kirtle.

"And you should be at my brother's side as befits his betrothed," Yvolde said, "instead of playing childish games." She extended her hand in the direction of the hearth where Bloet was sitting, nearly asleep and obviously the worse for all the trips outside, and Rosemund looked beseechingly at Kivrin.

"Go and thank Sir Bloet for such a generous gift," Imeyne said coldly.

Rosemund handed Kivrin her cloak and started toward the hearth.

"Come, Agnes," Kivrin said. "You must rest."

"I would stay up for the devil's knell," Agnes said.

"Lady Katherine," Yvolde said, and there was an odd emphasis on the word, 'Lady,' "you told us you remembered naught. Yet you read Lady Rosemund's brooch with ease. Can you read, then?"

I can read, Kivrin thought, but fewer than a third of the contemps could, and even fewer of women.

She glanced at Imeyne, who was looking at her the way she had the first morning she was here, fingering her clothes and examining her hands.

"No," Kivrin said, looking Yvolde directly in the eye, "I fear I cannot read even the Paternoster. Your brother told us what the words meant when he gave the brooch to Rosemund."

"Nay, he did not," Agnes said.

"You were looking at your bell," Kivrin said, thinking, Lady Yvolde will never believe that, she'll ask him and he'll say he never spoke to me.

But Yvolde seemed satisfied. "I did not think such a one as she would be able to read," she said to Imeyne. She gave her her hand, and they walked over to Sir Bloet.

Kivrin sank down on the bench.

"I would have my bell," Agnes said.

"I will not tie it on unless you lie down."

Agnes crawled into her lap. "You must tell me the story first. Once there was a maiden."

"Once there was a maiden," Kivrin said. She looked at Imeyne and Yvolde. They had sat down next to Sir Bloet and were talking to Rosemund. She said something, her chin up and her cheeks very red. Sir Bloet laughed, and his hand closed over the brooch and then slid down over Rosemund's breast.

"Once there was a maiden — " Agnes said insistently.

" — who lived at the edge of a great forest," Kivrin said. "'Do not go into the forest alone,' her father said-"

"But she would not heed him," Agnes said, yawning.

"No, she wouldn't heed him. Her father loved her and cared only for her safety, but she wouldn't listen to him."

"What was in the woods?" Agnes asked, nestling against Kivrin.

Kivrin pulled Rosemund's cloak up over her. Cutthroats and thieves, she thought. And lecherous old men and their shrewish sisters. And illicit lovers. And husbands. And judges. "All sorts of dangerous things."

"Wolves," Agnes said sleepily.

"Yes, wolves." She looked at Imeyne and Yvolde. They had moved away from Sir Bloet and were watching her, whispering.

"What happened to her?" Agnes said sleepily, her eyes already closing.

Kivrin cradled her close. "I don't know," she murmured. "I don't know."