Kivrin sank down on the beggar's bench by the screens. There was no way to even get near him, let alone ask him about the drop.

"Give him to me!" Agnes wailed. She and the rest of the children were over by the stairs to the bower, and the little boys were passing Blackie among them, petting him and playing with his ears. Agnes must have gone out to the stable to fetch the puppy while Kivrin was out in the barn.

"He's my hound!" Agnes said, grabbing for him. The little boy wrenched the puppy away. "Give him to me!"

Kivrin stood up.

"As I was riding through the woods, I came upon a maiden," Gawyn said loudly. "She had been set upon by thieves and was sore wounded, her head cut open and bleeding grievously."

Kivrin hesitated, glancing toward Agnes, who was pounding on the little boy's arm, and then sat down again.

"'Fair maid,' I said. 'Who has done this fell thing?' but she could not speak for her injuries."

Agnes had the puppy back and was clutching it to her. Kivrin should go rescue the poor thing, but she stayed where she was, moving a little so she could see past the sister-in-law's coif. Tell them where you found me, she willed Gawyn. Tell them where in the woods.

"'I am your liegeman and will find these evil knaves,' I said, 'but I fear to leave you in such sad plight,'" he said, looking toward Eliwys, "but she had recovered herself and she begged me to go and find those who had harmed her."

Eliwys stood up and walked to the door. She stood there for a moment, looking anxious, and then came and sat back down.

"No!" Agnes shrieked. One of Sir Bloet's redheaded nephews had Blackie now and was holding him above his head in one hand. If Kivrin didn't rescue it soon, they'd squeeze the poor dog to death, and there was no point in listening to any more of the Rescue of the Maiden in the Wood, which was obviously intended not to tell what had happened but to impress Eliwys. She walked over to the children.

"The robbers had not been long gone, and I found their trail with ease and followed it, spurring my steed after them."

Sir Bloet's nephew was dangling Blackie by his front legs, and the puppy was whimpering pathetically.

"Kivrin!" Agnes cried, catching sight of her, and flung herself at Kivrin's legs. Sir Bloet's nephew immediately handed Kivrin the puppy and backed away, and the rest of the children scattered.

"You rescued Blackie!" Agnes said, reaching for him.

Kivrin shook her head. "It is time to go to bed," she said.

"I'm not tired!" Agnes said in a whine that was scarcely convincing. She rubbed her eyes.

"Blackie is tired," Kivrin said, squatting down beside Agnes, "and he won't go to bed unless you will lie down with him."

That argument seemed to interest her, and before she could find a flaw in it, Kivrin handed Blackie back to her, placing him in her arms like a baby, and scooped them both up in her arms. "Blackie would have you tell him a story," Kivrin said, starting for the door.

"Soon I found myself in a place that I knew not," Gawyn said, "a dark forest."

Kivrin carried her charges outside and across the courtyard. "Blackie likes stories about cats," Agnes said, rocking the puppy gently in her arms.

"You must tell him a story about a cat then," Kivrin said. She took the puppy while Agnes climbed up the ladder to the loft. It was already asleep, worn out from all the handling. Kivrin laid it in the straw next to the pallet.

"A wicked cat," Agnes said, grabbing him up again. "I am not going to sleep. I am only lying down with Blackie, so I need not take off my clothes."

"No, you need not," Kivrin said, covering Agnes and Blackie with a heavy fur. It was too cold in the barn for undressing.

"Blackie would fain wear my bell," she said, trying to put the ribbon over its head.

"No, he wouldn't," Kivrin said. She confiscated the bell and spread another fur over them. Kivrin crawled in next to the little girl. Agnes pushed her small body against Kivrin.

"Once there was a wicked cat," Agnes said, yawning. "Her father told her not to go into the forest, but she heeded him not." She fought valiantly against falling asleep, rubbing her eyes and making up adventures for the wicked cat, but the darkness and the warmth of the heavy fur finally overcame her.

Kivrin continued to lie there, waiting till her breathing became light and steady, and then gently extricated Blackie from Agnes's grip and laid him in the straw.

Agnes frowned in her sleep and reached for him, and Kivrin wrapped her arms around her. She should get up and go look for Gawyn. The rendezvous was in less than a week.

Agnes stirred and snuggled closer, her hair against Kivrin's cheek.

And how will I leave you? Kivrin thought. And Rosemund? And Father Roche? And fell asleep.

When she woke, it was nearly light and Rosemund had crawled in beside Agnes. Kivrin left them sleeping, and crept down from the loft and across the gray courtyard, afraid she had missed the bell for mass, but Gawyn was still holding forth by the fire, and the bishop's envoy was still sitting in the high seat, listening to Lady Imeyne.

The monk was sitting in the corner with his arm around Maisry, but the clerk was nowhere to be seen. He must have passed out and been put to bed.

The children must also have been put to bed, and some of the women had apparently gone up to the loft to rest. Kivrin didn't see Sir Bloet's sister or the sister-in-law from Dorset.

"'Halt, knave!' I cried," Gawyn said. "'For I would fight you in fair combat.'" Kivrin wondered if this was still the Rescue or one of Sir Lancelot's adventures. It was impossible to tell, and if the purpose of it was to impress Eliwys, it was to no avail. She wasn't in the hall. What was left of Gawyn's audience didn't seem impressed either. Two of them were playing a desultory game of dice on the bench between them, and Sir Bloet was asleep, his chin on his massive chest.

Kivrin obviously hadn't missed any opportunities to speak to Gawyn by falling asleep, and from the look of things there wouldn't be any for some time. She might as well have stayed in the loft with Agnes. She was going to have to make an opportunity — waylay Gawyn on his way to the privy or catch up to him on the way to mass and whisper, "Meet me afterwards in the stable."

The churchmen didn't look like they'd leave unless the wine gave out, but it was risky to cut it too close. The men might take a notion to go hunting tomorrow, or the weather might change, and whether the bishop's envoy and his flunkies left or not it was still only five days to the rendezvous. No, four. It was already Christmas.

"He aimed a savage blow," Gawyn said, standing up to illustrate, "and had it driven down as earnestly as he feinted, my head would have been cloven in twain."

"Lady Katherine," Imyene said. She had stood up and was beckoning to Kivrin. The bishop's envoy was looking interestedly at her, and her heart began to pound, wondering what mischief they had cooked up between them now, but before Kivrin could cross the hall, Imeyne left him and came across to her, carrying a linen-wrapped bundle.

"I would have you carry these to Father Roche for the mass," she said, folding the linen back so Kivrin could see the wax candles inside. "Bid him put these on the altar and say to him to pinch not the flames from the candles, for it breaks the wick. Bid him prepare the church that the bishop's envoy may say the Christmas mass. I would have the church look like a place of the Lord, not a pig's sty. And bid him put on a clean robe."

So you get your proper mass after all, Kivrin thought, hurrying across the courtyard and along the passageway. And you've got rid of me. All you need now is to get rid of Roche, persuade the bishop's envoy to demote him or take him to Bicester Abbey.