Night had fallen now. There were buildings on the Temes’s south bank, and the torch flames that lit the entrance to a church flickered their shimmering reflections on the river. A three-quarter’s moon slid behind a cloud. The ships moored at the nearby wharves groaned in the wind, their halliards slapping lazily against masts. I heard men laughing from the Dead Dane, a nearby tavern.

The house door opened and I turned, expecting Finan, but it was Roric, my servant, who brought a flaming torch that he put into a bracket by the door. He glanced at me, seemed to be about to speak, then thought better of it and went back into the house, first holding open the door for a hooded figure who walked slowly and carefully towards me carrying two beakers. One of the beakers was held towards me. ‘It is wine.’ It was Benedetta who offered me the drink. ‘It is not good wine, but it is better than ale.’

‘You don’t like ale?’

‘Ale is sour,’ she said, ‘and so is this wine.’

I sipped it. She was right, it was sour, but I was used to sour-tasting wine. ‘You like sweet wine?’ I asked.

‘I like good wine,’ she sat beside me. ‘This vinegar was found in the kitchens of the house. Maybe they cook with it? It stinks!’

‘The wine?’

‘The river.’

‘It’s a city,’ I said. ‘All cities make their rivers stink.’

‘I remember this smell,’ she said.

‘Hard to forget it.’

Benedetta sat to my left and I remembered the heavy wooden bench where Gisela and I would sit, with Gisela always on my left. ‘The queen is not happy,’ Benedetta said, ‘she wants her comfort.’

I grimaced. ‘She wants a mattress filled with feathers?’

‘She would like that, yes.’

‘She asked for my help,’ I said harshly, ‘and I gave it to her. When I get her to a safe place she can have all the damned feathers she wants, but till then she can suffer fleas like the rest of us.’

‘I shall tell her,’ Benedetta said, sounding as if she looked forward to giving that piece of bad news. ‘You think Lundene is not safe?’

‘Not till I know who controls the city,’ I said. ‘Finan should be back soon.’ I had heard no shouts in the night, no sound of running feet, no clash of swords. That lack of sounds suggested that Finan and his men had met no enemies.

Benedetta had half pushed back her hood and I gazed at her in the night. She had a strong-boned face with large eyes that looked bright against her bronze-darkened skin. ‘You are looking at me,’ she said flatly.

‘I am.’

‘Men look at women,’ she went on, ‘and take what they want.’ She shrugged. ‘But I am a slave, so what can I expect?’

‘You serve a queen. You should demand respect.’

‘I do demand it! But that does not make me liked or make me safe.’ She paused. ‘Edward looked at me too.’ I said nothing, but I suppose the question was written all over my face. She shrugged. ‘He was kinder than some.’