Sir Bloet’s nephews were at the back of the nave, buckling on their swords. Father Roche was nowhere to be seen. She wondered if he was the one ringing the bell with such joyous enthusiasm.
Her numb foot was beginning to tingle. She flexed it in the thin shoe and then put her weight on it. It felt terrible, but she could stand on it. She hoisted Agnes farther over her shoulder and tried to stand up. Her foot caught in the hem of her skirt, and she pitched forward.
Gawyn caught her. “Good lady Katherine, my lady Eliwys bade me come to help you,” he said, steadying her. He lifted Agnes easily out of her arms and onto his shoulder, and strode out of the church, Kivrin hobbling beside him.
“Thank you,” Kivrin said when they were out of the jammed churchyard. “My arms felt like they were going to fall off.”
“She is a stout lass,” he said.
Agnes’s bell slid off her wrist and fell onto the snow, clattering with the other bells as it fell. Kivrin stooped and picked it up. The knot was almost too small to be seen, and the short ends of ribbon beyond it were frayed into thin threads, but the moment she took hold of it, the knot came undone. She tied it on Agnes’s dangling wrist with a little bow.
“I am glad to assist a lady in distress,” Gawyn said, but she didn’t hear him.
They were all alone on the green. The rest of the family was nearly to the manor gate. She could see the steward holding the lantern over Lady Imeyne and Lady Yvolde as they started into the passage. There were a lot of people still in the churchyard, and someone had built a bonfire next to the road, and people were standing around it, warming their hands and passing a wooden bowl of something, but here, halfway across the green, they were all alone. The opportunity she had thought would never come was here.
“I wanted to thank you for trying to find my attackers, and for rescuing me in the woods and bringing me here,” she said. “When you found me, how far from here was the place? Could you take me to it?”
He stopped and looked at her. “Did they not tell you?” he said. “ All of your goods and gear that were found I brought to the manor. The thieves had taken your belongings, and though I rode after them, I fear I found naught.” He started walking again.
“I know you brought my boxes here. Thank you. But that wasn’t why I wanted to see the place you found me,” Kivrin said rapidly, afraid they would catch up with the others before she finished asking him.
Lady Imeyne had stopped and was looking back their way. She had to get it asked before Imeyne sent the steward back to see what was keeping them.
“I lost my memory when I was injured in the attack,” she said. “I thought if I could see the place where you found me, I might remember something.”
He had stopped again and was looking at the road above the church. There were lights there, bobbing unsteadily and coming rapidly nearer. Latecomers to church?
“You’re the only one who knows where the place is,” Kivrin said, “or I wouldn’t bother you, but if you could just tell me where it is, I could—”
“There is nothing there,” he said vaguely, still looking at the lights. “I brought your wagon and your boxes to the manor.”
“I know” Kivrin said, “and I thank you, but—”
“They are in the barn,” he said. He turned at the sound of horses. The bobbing lights were lanterns carried by men on horseback. They galloped past the church and through the village, at least a half dozen of them, and pulled up short where Lady Eliwys and the others were standing.
It’s her husband, Kivrin thought, but before she could finish her thought, Gawyn had thrust Agnes into her arms and taken off toward them, pulling his sword as he ran.
Oh, no, Kivrin thought, and began to run, too, clumsy under Agnes’s weight. It wasn’t her husband. It was the men who were after them, the reason they were hiding, the reason Eliwys had been so angry at Imeyne for telling Sir Bloet they were here.
The men with the torches had got down off their horses. Eliwys walked forward to one of the three men still on horseback and then fell to her knees as if