‘Yes, yes, I was just resting, I fell asleep, I had been walking for so long, trying to find my way back to the road, but then I was so foolish – I sat down and I fell asleep . . .’

He stumbles to his feet. ‘It’s not far, I have been looking for you all evening, but it’s not far.’

‘Is it late now?’

‘No more than eleven. We’all looking for you. The duke is mad with worry. I was trying to follow your tracks . . . but I would never have found you but for . . .’

‘And is my lord duke safe? Was it an ambush?’

He shakes his head. ‘Some fool of a peasant felling a tree brought down another across the road. No-one hurt; just bad luck that we were there at the time. We were all only afraid for you. Did you fall?’

‘No, she ran off with me, but she didn’t throw me. She’s a good horse, she only ran because she was afraid and then she stopped.’

He hesitates. ‘She led me to you,’ he says. ‘It is quite a miracle. I saw her in the woods and she brought me to you.’

I hold up the reins I had tied to my wrist. ‘I didn’t let her go.’

‘You had her tethered?’

He gazes around the little clearing, at the silver moonlight on the water, at the shadowy darkness of the trees, as if he is looking for something.

‘Yes, of course. But I took her saddle off as you showed me.’

‘I saw her,’ he says flatly. ‘She was loose in the woods.’

‘She has been here all the time. I held her reins.’

He shakes his head as if to clear his bewilderment. ‘That was well done. I will put her saddle on her, and I can lead you to the road.’ He picks up the beautifully worked saddle and slides it on Merry’s back. He tightens the girth then he turns to lift me up. For a moment he hesitates, with his hands on my waist. It is as if our bodies have come together, almost without our volition: my head to his shoulder, his hands on my waist. It is as if we are drawn, one to another, like the planets on their wires in my lord’s library. Slowly, I realise that I am filled with an emotion I have never felt before, slowly I realise that this is a longing. I turn my face up towards him, and his darkened eyes look down at me, his hands warm, his face almost puzzled as he feels the desire which is slowly pulsing in me. We stand like that together, for a long time. Then, without a word, he lifts me up into the saddle, brushes down my gown, hands me my hat, and leads Merry through the wood towards the road.

CASTLE OF CALAIS, FRANCE,

JUNE 1433

We are housed once more in the great castle of the garrison town of Calais, Woodville is greeted as its captain but my lord says he cannot spare him from his side yet to take up residence. I am standing on the battlement at the top of the castle, looking anxiously up at the standard on the tower above my head, which cracks and ripples in the strengthening wind.