Also, they were not arresting him yet. And he was…Jad curse it, he was curious now. A vice, the key to his life and to his writing: curiosity. His life? A short life so far. He’d prefer it not end just yet. I would like, he thought, to see spring again and be warm.

“Someone lift me up, then,” he said, “and in the god’s name I hope the horse is gentle.”

—

Silvy was a restless sleeper and thought she heard a jingling sound outside. Then she heard the bells, and then that same sound again after the third one.

She got out of bed and crossed to the window, two pairs of heavy stockings on her feet. Stood there and looked down. Eudes, who was good with tools, had contrived a way to hinge the shutters on this third floor so a part could be folded back on either side. There was no light, no one could see her, the watcher, the witness. Behind her, Anni and Eudes slept, Anni snoring softly, as she usually did. The cold was appalling, but she knew the bed would be warm went she went back.

There were horsemen in the street. She saw them when Thierry came out and torches were lit. She was very afraid then, and there was nothing at all she could do. She was so angry with him. Nothing to do about that, either. Should she have told him not to go? Would it have done any good at all? Did he ever listen?

Maybe sometimes. Once or twice.

Words were being exchanged below. From the way he stood, she knew Thierry was frightened. He’d be thinking of running; he’d know there was no way he could. He stood where he was and spoke to the men on horses. To one of them.

Then, after more words, Silvy at her window saw him mount up, with assistance, on a horse. It was entirely unexpected. She’d never seen him on a horse. She’d never been on one either. Had dreams of riding sometimes, galloping on a vast plain under both moons, going nowhere that she knew in the world, but going there very fast.

She watched the riders disappear up the street towards the river. A dozen or so men, three torches, her friend inexplicably among them. She wondered if she’d ever see him again. She didn’t know who these men were. They had evidently been waiting for him at this impossible hour, for no reason she could even imagine.

Then the street was empty again, and black. Nothing to see. You could almost imagine you had dreamed the whole encounter.