"They are most healthful when cooked with—"

"My lady," a servant called from the doorway. "Pray, pardon me, madam."

Alice turned from the eggs. "What is it, Egan?"

"I am sorry to disturb you but there's a lad here," Egan said. "He says he must speak with you at once. He claims 'tis a matter of life and death."

"A boy?" One of the cooks scowled. "Tell 'im to be off. Lady Alice is occupied with more important matters."

Alice looked at the small figure who hovered behind Egan. She saw a lad with dark hair and yellow-brown eyes standing in the kitchen doorway.

He appeared to be about eight years of age. She did not recognize him as one of the village children. His clothing was smudged with dirt and grime but it was of excellent quality.

"I must speak with the lady." The boy sounded as though he were out of breath. " 'Tis most important. I will not leave until I've talked with her."

"That's what ye think." One of the kitchen workers hoisted a bread paddle in a mildly threatening manner. "Begone, boy. Ye smell like a garderobe."

The breeze through the open doorway proved the servant correct. There was no denying that the distinctive odor of a privy clung to the lad.

"Put that paddle down," Alice said firmly. She smiled at the newcomer. "I am Lady Alice. Who are you?"

The boy straightened his shoulders and elevated his chin. The simple gesture conveyed a pride so innate that it easily transcended his grubby attire and unpleasant odor. "I am Reginald, my lady. My father is Sir Vincent of Rivenhall."

Elbert sucked in his breath. "Rivenhall."

The kitchen suddenly became very quiet. Reginald's small jaw tightened but he stood his ground. His gaze did not waver from Alice's face.

"You're from Rivenhall Manor?" Alice asked carefully as she walked toward Reginald. "Sir Vincent's son?"

"Aye." Reginald gave her a crisply executed bow and then raised eyes that held equal measures of desperation and determination. "I have come to plead with you to help me save my father's manor and my mother's honor."

"By the Saints. What in heaven's name are you talking about?"

"My mother said that it was no use appealing to Scarcliffe, but there is no place else I can go. You are the only ones close enough to help. I have heard my father say that he and Hugh the Relentless are cousins. So I came here today."

"Calm yourself, Reginald," Alice said soothingly.

"They tell me Sir Hugh is away in London but you are here and many of his men-at-arms are here, too. You can help us. Please, madam—"

"You must tell me this tale from the beginning," Alice said firmly.

But something seemed to have snapped inside Reginald. It was as though he had held himself together by sheer willpower for too long. Now it was all coming undone. Tears shimmered in his eyes.

"We are lost if you do not come to our aid." The words poured out of him in a torrent. "My father is far away in the south attending a joust. He says we need the money. Most of the household knights and men-at-arms are with him."

"Reginald—"

"Sir Eduard arrived yesterday and forced his way into our hall. My mother is terrified. I do not know how to get a message to my father in time to save her."

"Hush. I will deal with this." Alice put a hand on his shoulder and guided him to a pail of water that sat by the hearth. "First, we must get rid of that dreadful odor." She glanced at the steward. "Elbert, send someone for a change of clothing."

"Aye, m'lady." Elbert signaled to one of the kitchen scullions.

It took only a few minutes to get Reginald washed and changed into fresh clothing. When he was clean once more Alice sat him down at one of the kitchen tables.

"Will someone please bring our guest a mug of my special green pottage?" she said.

One of the cooks ladled the thin vegetable broth into a mug and brought it to the table. The comforting aroma of the parsley root with which the pottage had been flavored wafted gently upward.

"Take a sip," Alice instructed as she sat down across from him. "It will have a strengthening effect."

Reginald gulped the pottage as though he had been starving. He stopped abruptly after the first swallow, however, and grimaced when he put down the mug. "Thank you, my lady," he said with a politeness that sounded forced. "I was very hungry." He started to wipe his mouth on the back of his sleeve and then stopped, obviously embarrassed by the display of ill manners. He flushed and took a deep breath.

"Now tell me who Sir Eduard is and how he forced his way into your father's hall."

"Eduard of Lockton is a landless knight," Reginald said. "He is a mercenary who sells his sword where he can. My mother says he is no better than an outlaw."

"Why did Eduard come to Rivenhall?"

"My mother said it was because he knew that my father was far away and that he had taken most of his men with him. She says Sir Eduard believes that Hugh the Relentless will not come to the aid of Rivenhall because of the bad blood between the two manors."

"Eduard of Lockton just strode into your father's hall and took command?"

"Aye. When he arrived yesterday he claimed he came in friendship. He demanded lodging for the night for himself and his men. Mother did not dare refuse. There was no way we could mount a defense with the few men my father left behind."

"So she let him into the hall hoping he would leave in the morning?"

"Aye. But he stayed." Reginald looked miserable. "He has put his own men on the walls. He acts as though he were lord of Rivenhall. He has taken our keep without even laying siege to it."

"Surely your father's liege lord, Erasmus of Thornewood, will take action against Sir Eduard when he learns of this."

"My mother says that Sir Erasmus is dying. He will likely be dead before we can get word to him."

"A fait accompli," Alice murmured.

"That is what Mother called it."

Alice recalled how her uncle had installed his son in her father's hall. It was all well and good for clerics to argue the fine points of royal law, canon law, and the law of custom, but the truth was that possession was everything. A man or a woman who could not defend what he or she held soon lost it to someone more powerful. It was the way of the world.

"I know how you feel, Reginald."

Reginald looked at her with worried eyes. "Last night, after the meal, Sir Eduard tried to force my mother to go to his chamber with him. She was terrified. I believe that he intended to hurt her."

A cold chill went through Alice. "Dear God. Is your mother… ? Is she all right? What happened?"

"She broke free of him, grabbed my hand, and told me that we must flee to the tower room. We managed to get inside and lock the door."

"Thank the Saints," Alice breathed.

"Eduard was furious. He pounded on the door and made all sorts of threats. Eventually he left but not before he vowed to starve us out of the tower room. Mother is still there. She has had nothing to eat or drink since last night." He looked down at his empty mug. "This is all I've had since yesterday."

Alice glanced at a cook. "Bring our guest a meat pie, please."

"Aye, m'lady." The fascinated cook plucked a pie from a hot plate and set it down in front of Reginald.

Alice studied the boy. "How did you free yourself?"

"There is an old garderobe in the tower room." Reginald fell on the pie with a good deal more enthusiasm than he had displayed for the nourishing pottage. "The shaft is somewhat wider than most."

"Just wide enough for a boy your size?"

Reginald nodded. "It was difficult in places. And the smell was terrible."

"I can imagine. How did you descend?"

"Mother and I fashioned a rope out of an old bed curtain. I used it to lower myself down the shaft."

That explained the unpleasant stench that hung about Reginald's clothing, Alice thought wryly. The poor boy had exited the keep through a privy drain. Odor aside, it must have been a frightening experience.