I don’t know. I don’t know at all what happens after we pass on, except what I was always told by the Makermen: if I was good, I would join the Maker in the sky. And now that I have every folk’s sins heaped on me, I’ll be Eve’s handmaiden. Unless I obey the Maker’s will in my every act, which I’m not sure I can do. And now this man’s sins are getting heaped on me too. When I think on it, it makes me less sorry for him. Why should he be frightened when I’m taking up all his sins?

When I say the last bit to finish the Recitation, I don’t say it kindly at all.

After my work, the road back towards Northside’s oddly empty. Then I hear drums. Somefolk important has arrived in town. I hear trumpets too. It must be the emissary from the Norman prince, here to propose marriage to Queen Bethany. The one the great revels will celebrate.

I turn off the main road and head to the river, where folk will be gathering to see the emissary’s barge. As I get nearer, the road begins to fill up. It gets fuller and fuller until I’m wending my way through a crowd, trying not to feel hurt when folk recoil at seeing me. I get myself a good view for the procession.

All the court has turned out. They’ve got good views too, on either side of the road down to the wharf. Across from me, a band of musicians wearing the Queen’s badge sit atop a trestle. It’s only after a good gawk that I recall I’ve seen some of them before. They’re the strangers I spied at a newspanto. They play the same long lutes they carried then, but also flutes and viols. One man, young, dark-haired and taut-built, plays an instrument I’ve never seen. It’s as big as a man and has brown curves like a horse’s haunch. He bows it like a viol, but standing up. When he plays, its sound rumbles through my chest.

The highborn folk lining the road around the musicians all wear red and purple, silver and gold, not plain, woad-dyed blue like the rest of us. Behind them, grooms and maids try to keep costly hems out of the dirt and hold burning herbs to counter the stink from the river.

I look among the highborn. Finally I find him. The Country Mouse’s nose is pink with sun, and he’s wearing a big ruff. His badge, I see, is a stag.