He gestures upwards. Katherine stares at him a moment. Something begins growing within her, a physical force that shakes her narrow frame, fills her skin. It is always this way when she puts herself in harm’s way. The Prioress once suggested it was the presence of the devil within her, and beat her for it, as if that might expel the demon.

Now she crosses to where Thomas has left the giant’s pollaxe against one of the tent bracers. It is lighter than she remembers, but the weight of its head gives it fearsome impetus, and when she picks it up, it levels itself at Fournier’s belly.

He steps back.

‘If you so much as touch him,’ she says, ‘I will run you through.’

Katherine has never been more certain of anything, and yet – what is she doing? She is threatening the Earl of Warwick’s personal physician with a pollaxe. Fournier takes another step back. Spots of high colour have come into his cheeks and his mouth quavers. He slips off his pattens as they catch in the mud.

‘You are mad!’ he squeaks.

She jabs the axe at him.

‘Out,’ she says. ‘Get out.’

‘You have not heard the last of this,’ Fournier cries as he backs through the tent flaps. ‘You have not heard – d’you hear?’

He is away before she can think of anything to say. His boy stoops to collect his pattens and runs out after him.

When Geoffrey comes to find her, Richard is asleep under a rug, breathing steadily.

They say nothing for a moment, but it is clear Geoffrey is exasperated.

‘Sir John is upset,’ he says.

Katherine says nothing. She does not know what to say. The shame weighs on her.

‘Whatever were you thinking?’ he goes on. ‘He is the Earl of Warwick’s personal physician!’

She shakes her head and closes her eyes to stop the tears. She can still think of nothing to say. Why can she not be content to let things pass? But then – he was going to burn Richard. That cannot be a right thing to do.

‘You’re an odd one, Kit, and no mistake. If you haven’t been looking after Richard so well, then – well, I don’t know. You’d’ve had your ear clipped long ago.’

She thinks of Fournier’s grubby boy and nods tightly. She swallows.

‘As it is,’ Geoffrey goes on, ‘keep out of his way for a day or two.’

Later that day the order comes to break camp.

‘Thank the Lord for that,’ Thomas says, but if he thinks breaking camp will mean getting away from Fournier, or Lamn, he is mistaken, for the news comes down that the Bishop is to travel with them.