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Let me get out of these wet clothes. But what’s all the fuss about?’ She gestured towards the melee of porters, sumpter ponies, kitchen staff and serfs. They were now augmented by what must surely be the five Lombardy men sauntering elegantly across the garth towards the refectory beneath a canopy held over their heads by a couple of soaked and grimacing servants.
    Following her glance, Ulf grinned. ‘Loan men,’ he confirmed. ‘Smart, aren’t they?’
    The black-clad Lombards were looking on the Saxon scrum with some amusement. They were close enough for her to hear them say something to each other in a kind of base Latin. Then they all laughed. Stepping over a trio of roiling villeins locked in combat on the puddled ground, they continued into the Great Hall with a flourish of cloaks. The bearers hoisted the canopy above their own heads and trudged off.
    ‘You’ve arrived at just the right time,’ Ulf said. ‘The Lady Sibilla’s due any minute and I reckon they’re going to need all the help they can get.’
    ‘Sibilla?’
    ‘Lord Roger’s sister-in-law. Sir Ralph’s wife. After your time. You won’t have met her.’
    ‘I wonder if that’s the party I saw on the way over? If so, Sir Ralph was astride a rather mettlesome stallion. Most impressively caparisoned—’
    ‘That’d be Sir Ralph all right.’
    ‘And his lady? Hair black as ebony, and wearing a blue velvet cloak?’
    ‘And that’d be the Lady Sibilla. And what a size she is! ’Struth!’ Ulf held his hands in front of an imaginary beer gut. Despite his height and job he was as thin as a lath.
    ‘She didn’t look particularly big to me,’ said Hildegard. ‘Rather slight, I thought. Anyway, the party I saw must have arrived ages ago, the pace they were going.’
    ‘They did,’ said Ulf.
    ‘But I thought you just said she was due?’ Hildegard was puzzled.
    ‘Due. Yes.’ He blushed. Auburn-blond, he blushed easily and his skin was now nearly the same shade as his beard. He cupped his hands round an imaginary stomach and Hildegard suddenly understood.
    ‘But she was riding astride!’ she exclaimed, rain on her lashes making her blink. ‘And,’ she added in surprise, ‘she must be all of forty.’
    ‘That’s why Roger’s going to be pleased to see you.’ He tapped the scrip at her belt which he guessed was full of cures. ‘Many hands make light work.’
    ‘Too many cooks spoil the broth,’ she replied automatically.
    Ulf bent his head close to her ear. Rain dripped off his brow on to her shoulder. ‘On to more important matters, sister. I’ve got a nice keg of Guienne in my pantry.’ He squeezed her elbow. ‘How about coming in later to give me your opinion?’
    ‘Let me see how it goes with Lord Roger,’ she told him. ‘I’m not here for rollicking. I have business in mind.’
    Ignoring his raised eyebrows, she left him. With the intention of getting out of her wet garments as soon as possible, she followed one of the servants through a maze of corridors to one of the guest chambers. She was relieved the journey was behind her. Now she could focus on her mission. But she couldn’t help wondering whether it had been a mistake to come out here after all. What with Martinmas, Lombardy bankers and now a pregnant sister-in-law, would Lord Roger be able to give her the time and attention her project deserved?

Chapter Two
    T HE GREAT HALL , just like the bailey, was seething with folk. As well as a host of relatives, friends, hangers-on, castle officials and a couple of mendicant friars, all with their own attendants, there were six tumblers, ten musicians tuning their instruments, and more fancily dressed squires, pages and servants than could surely be needed by one family. And yet, apart from the guests, there was no sign of anyone idling. The staff were run off their feet. Keeping close to the walls, well out of the ale-sodden straw, Hildegard picked her way towards the dais.
    Four people were lounging up there just