“Safety?” Ansirus’ question came a little sharply. “What danger could there be to us on the river?”

“None, sir.” The officer’s voice was smooth, like his neat, well-barbered person. No Frank this, but a Roman by his accent and bearing; and his troop bore, unmistakably, the Roman marks of discipline and order. Following his upward glance they saw that the standard at the mast-head, like the troop’s colours, sported the queen’s emblem.

“Then this is Queen Clotilda’s own ship?”

“Indeed, sir. The river-boats that normally ply here make half a dozen calls between here and Tours – a tedious end to your long voyage.” His eyes slid to Alice in a kind of hesitating, sideways look, then away again. She had the impression that he changed what he had been about to say, and added instead: “When the queen had news of your coming she wished to make the journey easier for you. The Merwing will carry you swiftly and in comfort, and once in Tours, my lord, you are to be lodged in the castle itself. The queen is not – that is, she does not stay in her own palace at present.”

“We are indebted to your mistress for her care and courtesy. She is well, I take it?” The duke spoke calmly, adding polite enquiries after the health of the other members of the royal family, but through it all, and through the briefly formal replies of the officer, Alice could sense anxiety on the one hand, and on the other, a growing and even grim reserve. As soon as the British party was safely embarked on the trim little royal ship, Ansirus and the officer, who gave his name as Marius, went below together, leaving Alice with Mariamne on deck. They stood together at the rail, watching the sunlit countryside slip by.

After the sea voyage, this promised to be a journey of sheer delight. The river, smooth and majestically wide, flowed in vast curves through country rich in forest and vineyard and pastureland. From time to time they passed villages – settlements, rather, with some important-looking stone-built house or grange surrounded by orchards and well-tended gardens, supporting and supported by a cluster of wooden or turf-built huts which presumably housed the servants and slaves who worked the estate. It all looked very peaceful, the blossoming orchards and lush gardens, the rows of bee-hives with their straw skeps showing golden in the sun, a flock of white geese grazing by the river’s edge, a boy with clappers scaring away birds from the vineyards where the young growth showed green. Here and there a church could be seen, a small structure of wood or wattle crouching well within the protective walls of a settlement. A rich and lovely country, but where one had to go chin on shoulder for fear of one’s neighbour; a country (thought Alice) which had had no Arthur, duke of battles, to bring its warring kings together, and seal its beauty and wealth with peace.