Hunger wasn’t Macson’s problem, Belisarius knew. In the end Belisarius had relented, and pointed out the obvious truth about Aelfric: that he was a she, that this boy monk was a girl. Suddenly Macson’s helpless attraction to the novice made sense to him, but he was humiliated, and angry. Belisarius was careful not to mock him.

Macson returned with some heavy last-winter bread. Standing in the chill morning light amid the huddled buildings of the monastery, as birdsong competed with the high, thin chanting of the monks, they both chewed at the hard bread until it was soft enough to swallow.

When the monks filed out of the little wooden church to continue their day, Aelfric came to find the two of them. ‘Dom Boniface is resting. He has a dispensation from the abbot not to join in the opus manuum in the middle of the day. He will speak with you then.’

Macson sneered at her. ‘How good of him.’

Aelfric turned on him. ‘Are you angry with me? Why?’

Belisarius said, ‘I had to tell him you are female, which he couldn’t work out for himself. You have muddled up his flinty British heart, Aelfric - or is that not your true name?’

‘My father christened me Aelfflaed.’

Macson blushed. ‘You are a liar,’ he spat. ‘Your whole life is a lie. Is that the way Christ and your Saint Benedict would have you live?’

Aelfric shot back, ‘What’s it to you?’ In her anger she looked more feminine than at any time since Belisarius had met her, despite her grimy habit and the ugly tonsure cut into the crown of her hair. ‘Perhaps the truth is you’re disappointed I’m not a pretty boy after all.’

Belisarius said, ‘I’m intrigued to find you here, Aelfric. Why is a girl hiding away in a monastery full of men?’

‘There is nowhere else for me to learn. And my father thought I would be safe here.’ She said that her father, called Bertgils, was a thegn of the current King of Northumbria, Aethelred. ‘They call him Aethelred the Butcher,’ Aelfric said gloomily. ‘He is Northumbria’s twelfth king in a century, of whom four have been murdered. Indeed Aethelred was once exiled, but won his throne back. And then to secure his position he put to death the infant sons of his rivals.’

Belisarius could see that for a thegn like Bertgils, to be close to such a king as the Butcher gave a chance of advancement, but was also supremely dangerous. And this father certainly seemed to have the measure of his daughter. ‘I’m getting the impression Bertgils is a wise man. And it is through your father that you will win us an audience with the King?’

‘My father is on the witan. The King’s council.’

‘So,’ Macson snapped, ‘he sent you to masquerade as a man inside a monastery. Your husband should protect you.’