His archers from the Hundred have returned to their homes, rich men for a few months, while those with nowhere to go have stayed at Marton, helping in the fields when they are not helping repair the house. Thanks to the pardoner’s salve and Katherine’s attentions, Thomas’s arm has slowly healed, and while he is still not able to draw a bow, he has spent his time learning to ride his new horse.

Katherine has been warm and dry for as long as she can remember, and she cannot recall the last time she went without food for more than a day. Marton Hall has become home to her, and the habits of the priory, ingrained like dirt into her skin, have slowly come loose.

But now Thomas is restive.

‘If it is not God’s intention that I find Riven,’ he tells her, ‘then I should go back to the Prior of All. I should rejoin the order. I made my vows.’

He is confused, wretched even.

‘I can’t live like this,’ he says. ‘Look.’ He shows her his hands. There are small wounds in the palms where his nails have dug in. ‘I do it at night,’ he says. ‘I can’t help myself.’

They walk on. She understands Thomas and the way he feels about this: if God wishes him to be His instrument of vengeance, then it will come to pass, and he will find Riven and kill him, but if He does not, then it will not come to pass; and with every flitting day, while Thomas stays in Marton and there is no chance of coming across Riven in battle, this last scenario seems the most likely.

She wants to tell Thomas that if he wants to find Riven, all he need do is seek him out, that it need not be by chance, that it need not be on the field of battle. He, Thomas, must act for himself, not wait on God’s whim.

She opens her mouth to tell him this, but caution keeps her quiet. She is learning lessons, she thinks, however frustrating they might be. Instead she says:

‘Look around you, Thomas. Look at this place. Take strength from it. Your chance will come again, I know it.’

They are near the village now, down by the piggery, and she finds a stick and leans over the fence to scratch a pig between its russet shoulders.

‘And what about you?’ he asks. ‘We are a day’s ride from the priory.’

She is silent for a moment, watching the pig’s pleasure. Thomas means for her to return not to rejoin the order, but to discover who left her there as an oblate. She has been worrying over this ever since that day in the dunes below Sangatte when he told her someone must have been paying her way.