A hand tore the cloak off me. Some of the rotten sacking went with it, leaving me with a shoulder and side bare to the waist. Someone grabbed my wrist and yanked me to my feet and held me. His other hand took me roughly by the hair, and pulled my head up to face the man who stood over me. He was tall, young, with light-brown hair showing reddish in the torchlight, and an elegant beard fringing his chin. His eyes were blue, and looked angry. He was cloakless in the cold. He had a whip in his left hand.

He eyed me, making a sound of disgust. “A beggar’s brat, and stinking, at that. I’ll have to burn the thing, I suppose. I’ll have your hide for this, you bloody little vermin. I suppose you were going to steal my horse as well?”

“No, sir. I swear it was only the cloak. I would have put it back, I promise you.”

“And the brooch as well?”

“Brooch?”

The man holding me said: “Your brooch is still in the cloak, my lord.”

I said quickly: “I only borrowed it, for warmth—it was so cold, so I—”

“So you just stripped my horse and left him to catch cold? Is that it?”

“I didn’t think it would harm him, sir. It was warm in the shed. I would have put it back, really I would.”

“For me to wear after you, you stinking little rat? I ought to slit your throat for this.”

Someone—one of the mounted men—said: “Oh, leave it. There’s no harm done except that your cloak will have to go to the fuller tomorrow. The wretched boy’s half naked, and it’s cold enough to freeze a salamander. Let him go.

“At least,” said the young officer between his teeth, “it will warm me up to thrash him. Ah, no, you don’t—hold him fast, Cadal.”

The whip whistled back. The man who held me tightened his grip as I fought to tear free, but before the whip could fall a shadow moved in front of the torchlight and a hand came lightly down, no more than a touch, on the young man’s wrist.

Someone said: “What’s this?”

The men fell silent, as if at an order. The young man dropped the whip to his side, and turned.

My captor’s grip had slackened as the newcomer spoke, I twisted free. I might possibly have doubled away between the men and horses and run for it, though I suppose a mounted man could have run me down in seconds. But I made no attempt to get away. I was staring.