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exchange?’
    ‘I don’t know. Truly, I don’t know. At some time, almost certainly, I shall require your help. The risks may be high. They may be high enough even to hazard your life. But I shall try to avoid that.’
    Aylwin stood up. So did Kieron. They clasped forearms once again, in affirmation.
    ‘Better a dead painter than a live miller,’ joked Aylwin.
    ‘Better by far a live painter and a live man of the air,’ said Kieron.

5
    Mistress Alyx Fitzalan was seventeen years old and the bane of Seigneur Fitzalan’s life. Within the year, thank Ludd, she would be wed with the young Seigneur Talbot of Chichester. As far as Seigneur Fitzalan was concerned, it could not happen too soon. He wished Talbot joy of her, but doubted greatly that any joy would come of the union. Still, it was politically necessary for the Talbots and the Fitzalans to stand side by side. Between them, they controlled much of the southern coastline. Which was convenient in times of peace and doubly convenient in times of war. Which Ludd forbid.
    Alyx knew that she was destined to be a sacrificial lamb and conducted herself accordingly. As Fitzalan’s eldest daughter, she had many privileges. As the key to his control of a large segment of the coast, she realised that, until Fitzalan had a copy of the marriage vows in his strong box, she could demand anything within reason.
    She did, frequently. She demanded entertainments, feasts, diversions. It was well known that Talbot of Chichester was a sickly young man who bled frequently from the nose. Alyx had spies who told her that he was not long for this world. Though she loathed him, she hoped he would live long enough to wed her and get a son. By this means, Alyx dreamed of equalling her father in his power.
    Meanwhile, she held Fitzalan in thrall. He could not risk her rejection of the contract.
    She was a great horsewoman. She loved horses, it seemed, more than anything else.
    What more natural than that she should require a portrait of herself on horseback leaping a seven-bar gate?
    Alyx already had five portraits of herself. Two hung in the castle, one had been sent to London, and two had been given to Talbot.
    Master Hobart had painted all five portraits. At the suggestion of the sixth, he held up his shaking hands in horror.
    ‘Seigneur Fitzalan, how shall I catch your daughter on horseback leaping a seven-bar gate?’
    ‘I know not, Master Hobart, nor do I care,’ retorted Seigneur Fitzalan calmly. ‘But it is the price of peace – at least for a time – and I will have it done.’
    ‘But, Seigneur—’
    ‘No buts, master painter. See to it. And see to it also that the horse is no less graceful than its rider. I have a fine stable, and those who see your picture should know it.’
    ‘Yes, Seigneur.’
    ‘Be still, man! You shake like an autumn leaf. I trust you will not shake so when the brush is in your hand.’
    ‘No, Seigneur,’ assured Hobart hastily. ‘It is but a tremor of agitation. When I hold the brush, my hand is rock steady.’
    ‘If it be steady enough to make good likenesses of both horse and rider, I will put five hundred schilling into it.’
    ‘Thank you, Seigneur.’
    Fitzalan frowned and stared hard at the old man. ‘But, if the canvas be not to my liking, you shall eat it.’
    ‘Yes, Seigneur. Thank you.’ Master Hobart retreated from the presence, bowing many times, his hands clasped tightly together (partly to stop them trembling) as if with intense gratitude, like one whose execution has just been stayed – if only temporarily.
    ‘Hobart!’
    ‘Seigneur?’
    ‘A word. And stop bobbing up and down, man. You make me nervous.’
    ‘Forgive me, Seigneur.’ Hobart froze.
    ‘This picture … Start soon, Master Hobart, but do not hurry. You follow me?’
    ‘Yes, Seigneur,’ said Hobart blindly. Though he did not.
    Fitzalan explained. ‘Mistress Alyx is a dutiful and loving daughter, but she is also – how shall I put it? – impetuous if not