They put on their cloaks and went out. It was hard to walk in a straight line because of the wind, and they held hands for stability. They fought their way across the graveyard. The rain had turned to hail, and big pebbles of ice bounced off the tombstones. In a corner of the cemetery Aliena saw an apple tree as bare as in wintertime: its leaves and fruit had been ripped off the branches by the gale. There won’t be many apples in the county this autumn, she thought.

A moment later they reached the church and went inside. The sudden hush was like going deaf. The wind still howled and the rain drummed on the roof, and thunder crashed every few moments, but it was all at one remove. Some of the villagers were here already, their cloaks sodden. They had brought their valuables with them, their chickens in sacks, their pigs trussed, their cows on leads. It was dark in the church, but the scene was illuminated fitfully by lightning. After a few moments the carter drove Aliena’s wagon inside, and Ranulf followed with the horses.

Aliena said to the priest: “Let’s get the beasts to the west end and the people to the east, before the church starts to look like a stable.” Everyone now seemed to have accepted that Aliena was in charge, and he concurred with a nod. The two of them moved off, the priest talking to the men and Aliena to the women. Gradually the people separated from the animals. The women took the children to the little chancel and the men tied the animals to the columns of the nave. The horses were frightened, rolling their eyes and prancing. The cows all lay down. The villagers got into family groups and began to pass food and drink around. They had come prepared for a long stay.

The storm was so violent that Aliena thought it must pass soon, but instead it got worse. She went to a window. The windows were not made of glass, of course, but of fine translucent linen, which now hung in shreds from the window frames. Aliena pulled herself up to the windowsill to look out, but all she could see was rain.

The wind grew stronger, shrieking around the walls of the church, and she began to wonder whether even this was safe. She made a discreet tour of the building. She had spent enough time with Jack to know the difference between good masonry and bad, and she was relieved to see that the stonework here was neat and careful. There were no cracks. The building was made of cut stone blocks, not rubble, and it seemed as solid as a mountain.

The priest’s housekeeper lit a candle, and that was when Aliena realized night was falling outside. The day had been so dark that the difference was small. The children tired of running up and down the aisles, and curled up in their cloaks to go to sleep. The chickens put their heads under their wings. Elizabeth and Aliena sat side by side on the floor with their backs to the wall.

Aliena was consumed with curiosity about this poor girl who had taken on the role of William’s wife, the role Aliena herself had refused seventeen years ago. Unable to restrain herself, she said: “I used to know William when I was a girl. What’s he like now?”

“I loathe him,” Elizabeth said with passion.

Aliena felt deeply sorry for her.

Elizabeth said: “How did you know him?”

Aliena realized she had let herself in for this. “To tell you the truth, when I was more or less your age, I was supposed to marry him.”

“No! And how come you didn’t?”

“I refused, and my father backed me. But there was a dreadful fuss… I caused a lot of bloodshed. However, it’s all in the past.”

“You refused him!” Elizabeth was thrilled. “You’re so courageous. I wish I was like you.” Suddenly she looked downcast again. “But I can’t even stand up to the servants.”

“You could, you know,” Aliena said.

“But how? They just don’t take any notice of me, because I’m only fourteen.”

Aliena considered the question carefully, then answered comprehensively. “To begin with, you must become the carrier of your husband’s wishes. In the morning, ask him what he would like to eat today, whom he wants to see, which horse he would like to ride, anything you can think of. Then go to the kitchener, the steward of the hall, and the stableman, and give them the earl’s orders. Your husband will be grateful to you, and angry with anyone who ignores you. So people will get used to doing what you say. Then take note of who helps you eagerly and who reluctantly. Make sure that helpful people are favored-give them the jobs they like to do, and make sure the unhelpful ones get all the dirty work. Then people will start to realize that it pays to oblige the countess. They will also love you much more than William, who isn’t very lovable anyway. Eventually you will become a power in your own right. Most countesses are.”

“You make it sound easy,” Elizabeth said wistfully.

“No, it’s not easy, but if you’re patient, and don’t get discouraged too easily, you can do it.”

“I think I can,” she said determinedly. “I really think I can.”

Eventually they began to doze. Every now and again the wind would howl and wake Aliena. Looking around in the fitful candlelight she saw that most of the adults were doing the same, sitting upright, nodding off for a while, then waking up suddenly.

It must have been around midnight that she woke with a start and realized that she had slept for an hour or more this time. Almost everyone around her was fast asleep. She shifted her position, lying flat on the floor, and wrapped her cloak tightly around her. The storm was not letting up, but people’s need for sleep had overcome their anxiety. The sound of the rain blowing against the walls of the church was like waves crashing on a beach, and instead of keeping her awake it now lulled her to sleep.

Once again she woke with a start. She wondered what had disturbed her. She listened: silence. The storm had ended. A faint gray light seeped in through the windows. All the villagers were fast asleep.

Aliena got up. Her movement disturbed Elizabeth, who came awake instantly.

They both had the same thought. They went to the church door, opened it, and stepped outside.

The rain had stopped and the wind was no more than a breeze. The sun had not yet risen, but the dawn sky was pearl-gray. Aliena and Elizabeth looked around them in the clear, watery light.

The village was gone.

Other than the church there was not a single building left standing. The entire area had been flattened. A few heavy timbers had come to rest up against the side of the church, but otherwise only the hearthstones dotted around in the sea of mud showed where there had been houses. At the edges of what had been the village, there were five or six mature trees, oaks and chestnuts, still standing, although each of them appeared to have lost several boughs. There were no young trees left at all.

Stunned by the completeness of the devastation, Aliena and Elizabeth walked along what had been the street. The ground was littered with splintered wood and dead birds. They came to the first of the wheat fields. It looked as if a large herd of cattle had been penned there for the night. The ripening stalks of wheat had been flattened, broken, uprooted and washed away. The earth was churned up and waterlogged.

Aliena was horrified. “Oh, God,” she muttered. “What will the people eat?”

They struck out across the field. The damage was the same everywhere. They climbed a low hill and surveyed the surrounding countryside from the top. Every way they looked, they saw ruined crops, dead sheep, blasted trees, flooded meadows and flattened houses. The destruction was appalling, and it filled Aliena with a dreadful sense of tragedy. It looked, she thought, as if the hand of God had come down over England and struck the earth, destroying everything men had made except churches.

The devastation had shocked Elizabeth too. “It’s terrible,” she said. “I can’t believe it. There’s nothing left.”