“Allie, why did he do that?” Richard said.

“I don’t know,” she said wearily. She had no energy left to be upset or angry. She got up and pushed at the door. It would not move. She guessed that the verderer had put the water butt up against it. In the dark, she felt the walls of the barn. She could reach the lower slopes of the roof, too. The building was made of close-set timbers. It had been carefully constructed. It was the verderer’s jail, where he kept offenders before taking them to the sheriff. “We can’t get out,” she said.

She sat down. The floor was dry and covered with straw. “We’re stuck here until he lets us out,” she said resignedly. Richard sat beside her. After a while they lay down back to back. Aliena felt she was too battered and frightened and tense to go to sleep, but she was also exhausted, and within a few moments she fell into a healing slumber.

She woke up when the door opened and daylight fell on her face. She sat up immediately, feeling frightened, not knowing where she was or why she was sleeping on the hard ground. Then she remembered, and was still more frightened: what was the verderer going to do to them? However, it was not the verderer who came in but his small brown wife; and although her face was as set and closed as it had been last night, she was carrying a hunk of bread and two cups.

Richard sat up too. They both eyed the woman warily. She said nothing, but handed them each a cup, then broke the bread in two and gave half to each of them. Aliena suddenly realized she was starving. She dipped her bread in her beer and began to eat.

The woman stood in the doorway, watching them, while they finished off the bread and beer. Then she handed Aliena what looked like a length of worn, yellowing linen, folded up. Aliena unfolded it. It was an old dress.

The woman said: “Put that on and get out of here.”

Aliena was mystified by the combination of kindness and hard words, but she did not hesitate to take the dress. She turned her back, dropped her cloak, pulled the dress over her head quickly, and put the cloak back on.

She felt better.

The woman handed her a pair of worn wooden clogs, too big.

Aliena said: “I can’t ride with clogs on.”

The woman laughed harshly. “You won’t be riding.”

“Why not?”

“He’s taken your horses.”

Aliena’s heart sank. It was too unfair that they should suffer more bad luck. “Where’s he taken them?”

“He doesn’t tell me these things, but I’d guess he’s gone to Shiring. He’ll sell the beasts, then find out who you are, and whether there’s anything more to be made out of you than the price of your horseflesh.”

“So why are you letting us go?”

The woman looked Aliena up and down. “Because I didn’t like the way he looked at you when you told him you were naked under your cloak. You may not understand that now, but you will when you’re a wife.”

Aliena understood it already, but she did not say so.

Richard said: “Won’t he kill you when he finds you’ve let us go?”

She gave a cynical smile. “He doesn’t scare me as much as he scares others. Now be off.”

They went out. Aliena understood that this woman had learned how to live with a brutal and heartless man, and had even managed to preserve a minimum of decency and compassion. “Thank you for the dress,” she said awkwardly.

The woman did not want her thanks. She pointed down the path and said: “Winchester is that way.”

They walked away and did not look back.

Aliena had never worn clogs-people of her class always had leather boots or sandals-and she found them clumsy and uncomfortable. However, they were better than nothing when the ground was cold.

When they were out of sight of the verderer’s house, Richard said: “Allie, why are these things happening to us?”

The question demoralized Aliena. Everyone was cruel to them. People were allowed to beat them and rob them as if they were horses or dogs. There was nobody to protect them. We’ve been too trusting, she thought. They had lived for three months in the castle without ever barring the doors. She resolved to trust nobody in the future. Never again would she let someone else take the reins of her horse, even if she had to be rude to prevent it. Never again would she let someone get behind her the way the verderer had last night, when he pushed her into the shed. She would never accept the hospitality of a stranger, never leave her door unlocked at night, never take kindness at face value.

“Let’s walk faster,” she said to Richard. “Perhaps we can reach Winchester by nightfall.”

They followed the path to the clearing where they had met the verderer. The remains of their fire were still there. From there they easily found the road to Winchester. They had been to Winchester before, many times, and they knew the way. Once they were on the road they could move faster. Frost had hardened the mud since the storm two nights ago.

Richard’s face was returning to normal. He had washed it yesterday, in a cold brook in the woods, and most of the dried blood had gone. There was an ugly scab where his right earlobe had been. His lips were still swollen but the puffiness had gone from the rest of his face. However, he was still badly bruised, and the angry color of the bruises gave him a rather frightening appearance. Still, that would do no harm.

Aliena missed the heat of the horse beneath her. Her hands and feet were painfully cold, even though her body was warm from the exertion of walking. The weather remained cold all morning, then at midday the temperature rose a little. By then she was hungry. She remembered that only yesterday she had felt as if she did not care whether she ever got warm or ate food again. But she did not want to think about that.

Whenever they heard horses or saw people in the distance they darted into the woods and hid until the other travelers had passed by. They hurried through villages, speaking to no one. Richard wanted to beg for food but Aliena would not let him.

By the middle of the afternoon they were within a few miles of their destination and no one had bothered them. Aliena was thinking that it was not so difficult to avoid trouble, after all. Then, on a particularly desolate stretch of the road, a man suddenly stepped out of the bushes and stood in front of them.

They had no time to hide. “Keep walking,” Aliena said to Richard, but the man moved to block their way, and they had to stop. Aliena looked behind, thinking of running that way; but another fellow had materialized out of the forest and was standing ten or fifteen yards away, blocking their escape.

“What have we here?” said the man in front, in a loud voice. He was a fat, red-faced man with a big swollen belly and a filthy matted beard, and he carried a heavy club. He was almost certainly an outlaw. Aliena could tell from his face that he was the kind of man who would commit violence readily, and her heart filled with dread.

“Leave us alone,” she said in a pleading tone. “We’ve got nothing for you to steal.”

“I’m not so sure,” said the man. He took a step toward Richard. “This looks like a fine sword, worth several shillings.”

“It’s mine!” Richard protested, but he just sounded like a scared child.

It’s no use, Aliena thought. We’re powerless. I’m a woman and he’s a boy, and people can do anything they like with us.

With a surprisingly agile movement the fat man suddenly raised his club and struck at Richard. Richard tried to dodge. The blow was aimed at his head but it hit his shoulder. The fat man was strong, and the blow knocked Richard down.

Suddenly Aliena lost her temper. She had been treated unjustly, vilely abused, and robbed, and she was cold and hungry and hardly in control of herself. Her little brother had been beaten half to death less than two days ago and now the sight of someone clubbing him maddened her. She lost all sense of reason or caution. Without even thinking, she pulled the dagger from her sleeve, flew at the fat outlaw, and jabbed the knife at his great belly, screaming: “Leave him alone, you dog!”