In a moment, there was a hard arm across her throat.

A tall, thin man glared at her. His eyes were unfriendly, and his face was like a ferret’s. She remembered him from the birthing.

“What you got there, mate?” barked a voice near at hand.

The thin man gave her a hand up. “Never mind, Cully,” he said. “It’s just the captain’s piece.”

Blanche flushed. Her ankle hurt, and so did her pride. She sputtered.

Cat—that was his name—was not unkind. “No need to sneak, Miss. We all know ya now.”

Unbidden, the language of her childhood hissed out. “Sod off, Beanpole! I’m not your captain’s doxy or any man’s.”

Cat laughed. Cully grinned. “Oh, aye. Our mistake,” Cully said. Then, seriously, “He’s not—his self. He’s…” Cully shook his head and his helmet glinted in the darkness and she realized they must be guards.

“Who’s there?” called Toby.

Blanche writhed.

“The Queen’s lady,” Cully said.

The captain—visible as a shape, a very Red-Knight-like shape, right to his profile, on the lantern show of the tent wall—sprang to his feet. In another mood she might have been pleased by his alacrity.

Cully guided her firmly around the tent-stakes as if she were a wayward infant, which made her mad.

“Lady Blanche,” the Red Knight said.

“I’m no lady, and I’ve a-told you so before, my lord. My lady, her grace, has sent me to ask for her breviary, which she left in your tent.” She gave a stiff-backed curtsey. “And I’d appreciate it if any other little thing her grace left might be returned, so that I don’t have to make another trip.”

She could see she’d wounded him. In another mood, she might have relented.

“Toby, I’d like to speak to Blanche, if I might, and then perhaps—”

“No, my lord, I will not be alone with any man, thank you,” Blanche said. She spat it more than said it.

His back went up, she saw it, and liked him better for it, right through her anger.

With a coldness she admired he looked down his nose at her. “Very well. Fetch the Queen’s things, Toby, I’m going out to have a look at our posts.”

“Oh, Christ Jesus,” muttered Cully. “Lady…”

He made a sign to Cat, hidden by the tent flap, and the younger archer ran off into the darkness just before the captain stalked out of the tent and vanished into the darkness.

Nell looked at her accusingly. “What was that for?” she asked.

Toby didn’t meet her eye, but his disapproval was obvious. He had the Queen’s prayerbook, as well as a small reliquary that Ser Ranald had rescued and a ring, and he put them all in a soft bag and handed it to her.