I answered him quite simply. “If you mean did Ambrosius ask me to tell her anything, no. He left it to me. What I do tell her depends entirely on what’s happened since I left. I’ll talk to her first, and judge how much to tell her after that. Don’t forget, I haven’t seen her for a long time, and people change. I mean, their loyalties change. Look at mine. When I last saw her I was only a child, and I have only a child’s memories—for all I know I misunderstood her utterly, the way she thought and the things she wanted. Her loyalties may lie elsewhere—not just the Church, but the way she feels about Ambrosius. The gods know there’d be no blame to her if she had changed. She owed Ambrosius nothing. She took good care of that.”

He said thoughtfully, his eyes on the green distance threading by the glinting river: “The nunnery hadn’t been touched.”

“Exactly. Whatever had happened to the rest of the town, Vortigern had let St. Peter’s be. So you see I’ve to find out who is in which camp before I give any messages. What she hasn’t known about for all these years, it won’t hurt her to go on not knowing for as many more days. Whatever happens, with Ambrosius coming so soon, I mustn’t take the risk of telling her too much.”

He began to pack away the remains of the meal while I sat, chin on hand, thinking, my eyes on the bright distance.

I added, slowly: “It’s simple enough to find out where Vortigern is now, and if Hengist’s landed already, and with how many men. Marric will probably find out without too much trouble. But there were other soundings the Count wanted me to take—things they’ll hardly know about in the nunnery—so now that Galapas is dead, I’ll have to try elsewhere. We’ll wait here till dusk, then go down to St. Peter’s. My mother will be able to tell me who I can still go to in safety.” I looked at him. “Whatever king she favours, she’s not likely to give me away.”

“That’s true enough. Well, let’s hope they’ll let her see you.”

“If she knows who’s asking for her, I imagine it will take more than a word from the Abbess to stop her from seeing me. Don’t forget she’s still a king’s daughter.” I lay back on the warm grass, my hands behind my head. “Even if I’m not yet a king’s son . . .”

But, king’s son or no, there was no getting into the nunnery.