The door stood open. They ran inside. Aliena had assumed this was the priest’s house, and she was right. A grumpy-looking man in a black tunic, wearing a small cross on a chain around his neck, stood up as they entered. Aliena knew that the duty of hospitality was a burden to many parish priests, especially at present. Anticipating resistance, she said firmly: “My companions and I need shelter.”

“You’re welcome,” the priest said through gritted teeth.

It was a two-room house with a lean-to shed at the side for animals. It was not very clean, even though the animals were kept outside. There was a wine barrel on the table. A small dog yapped at them aggressively as they sat down.

Elizabeth pressed Aliena’s arm. “Thank you very much,” she said. There were tears of gratitude in her eyes. “Ranulf would have made me go on-he never listens to me.”

“It was nothing,” Aliena said. “These big strong men are all cowards at heart.” She studied Elizabeth, and realized with a sense of horror that the poor girl looked rather like her. It would be bad enough to be William’s wife; but to be his second choice must be hell on earth.

Elizabeth said: “I’m Elizabeth of Shiring. Who are you?”

“My name is Aliena. I’m from Kingsbridge.” Aliena held her breath, wondering whether Elizabeth would recognize the name and realize that Aliena was the woman who had rejected William Hamleigh.

But Elizabeth was too young to remember that scandal, and all she said was: “What an unusual name.”

A slovenly woman with a plain face and meaty bare arms came in from the back room, looking defiant, and offered them a cup of wine. Aliena guessed she was the priest’s wife. He would probably call her his housekeeper, since clerical marriage was banned, in theory. Priests’ wives caused no end of trouble. To force the man to put her away was cruel, and generally brought shame on the Church. And although most people would say in general that priests ought to be chaste, they usually took a permissive line in particular cases, because they knew the woman. So the Church still turned a blind eye to liaisons such as this. Aliena thought: Be grateful, woman-at least you’re living with your man.

The man-at-arms and the carter came in with their hair wet. The guard, Ranulf, stood in front of Elizabeth and said: “We can’t stop here.”

To Aliena’s surprise, Elizabeth crumbled immediately. “All right,” she said, and stood up.

“Sit down,” Aliena said, pulling her back. She stood in front of the guard and wagged her finger in his face. “If I hear another word from you I’ll call the villagers to come to the rescue of the countess of Shiring. They know how to treat their mistress even if you don’t.”

She saw Ranulf weighing the odds. If it came to the crunch, he could deal with Elizabeth and Aliena, and the carter and the priest too; but he would be in trouble if any of the villagers joined in.

Eventually he said: “Perhaps the countess would prefer to move on.” He looked at Elizabeth aggressively.

The girl looked terrified.

Aliena said: “Well, your ladyship-Ranulf humbly begs to know your will.”

Elizabeth looked at her.

“Just tell him what you want,” Aliena said encouragingly. “His duty is to do your bidding.”

Aliena’s attitude gave Elizabeth courage. She took a deep breath and said: “We’ll rest here. Go and see to the horses, Ranulf.”

He grunted acquiescence and went out.

Elizabeth watched him go with an expression of amazement.

The carter said: “It’s going to piss down.”

The priest frowned at his vulgarity. “I’m sure it will just be the usual rain,” he said in a prissy voice. Aliena could not help laughing, and Elizabeth joined in. Aliena had the feeling the girl did not laugh often.

The sound of the rain became a loud drumming. Aliena looked through the open door. The church was only a few yards away but already the rain had obscured it. This was going to be a real squall.

Aliena said to her carter: “Did you put the cart under cover?”

The man nodded. “With the beasts.”

“Good. I don’t want my yarn felted.”

Ranulf came back in, soaking wet.

There was a flash of lightning followed by a long rumble of thunder. “This will do the crops no good,” the priest said lugubriously.

He was right, Aliena thought. What they needed was three weeks of hot sunshine.

There was another flash and a longer crash of thunder, and a gust of wind shook the wooden house. Cold water dropped on Aliena’s head, and she looked up to see a drip coming from the thatched roof. She shifted her seat to get out of its way. The rain was blowing in at the door, too, but nobody seemed to want to close it: Aliena preferred to look at the storm, and it seemed the others felt the same.

She looked at Elizabeth. The girl was white-faced. Aliena put an arm around her. She was shivering, although it was not cold. Aliena hugged her.

“I’m frightened,” Elizabeth whispered.

“It’s only a storm,” Aliena said.

It became very dark outside. Aliena thought it must be getting near suppertime; then she realized she had not had dinner yet: it was only noon. She got up and went to the door. The sky was iron gray. She had never known such peculiar weather in summer. The wind was gusting strongly. A lightning flash illuminated numerous loose objects blowing past the doorway: a blanket, a small bush, a wooden bowl, an empty barrel.

She turned back inside, frowning, and sat down. She was getting mildly worried. The house shook again. The central pole that held up the ridge of the roof was vibrating. This was one of the better-built houses in the village, she reflected: if this was unsteady, some of the poorer places must be in danger of collapse. She looked at the priest. “If it gets any worse we may have to round up the villagers and all take shelter in the church,” she said.

“I’m not going out in that,” the priest said with a short laugh.

Aliena stared at him incredulously. “They’re your flock,” she said. “You’re their shepherd.”

The priest looked back at her insolently. “I answer to the bishop of Kingsbridge, not you, and I’m not going to play the fool just because you tell me to.”

Aliena said: “At least bring the plow team into shelter.” The most precious possession of a village such as this was the team of eight oxen that pulled the plow. Without those beasts the peasants could not cultivate their land. No individual peasant could afford to own a plow team-it was communal property. The priest would surely value the team, for his prosperity depended on it too.

The priest said: “We’ve no plow team.”

Aliena was mystified. “Why?”

“We had to sell four of them to pay rent; then we killed the others for meat in the winter.”

That explained the half-sown fields, Aliena thought. They had only been able to cultivate the lighter soils, using horses or manpower to pull the plow. The story angered her. It was foolish as well as hardhearted of William to make these people sell their plow team, for that meant they would have trouble paying their rent this year too, even though the weather had been fair. It made her want to take William by the neck and strangle him.

Another powerful gust shook the wood-framed house. Suddenly one side of the roof seemed to shift; then it lifted several inches, becoming detached from the wall, and through the gap Aliena saw black sky and forked lightning. She leaped to her feet as the gust subsided and the thatched roof crashed back down on its supports. This was now becoming dangerous. She stood up and yelled at the priest over the noise of the weather: “At least go and open the church door!”

He looked resentful but he complied. He took a key from a chest, put on a cloak, and went outside and disappeared into the rain. Aliena began to organize the others. “Carter, take my wagon and oxen into the church. Ranulf, you get the horses. Elizabeth, come with me.”