Doomsday Book (Oxford Time Travel, #1) - Connie Willis Page 0,163

waylaid in the woods, for I was struck upon the head.”

“When first she woke she spoke in a tongue none could understand,” Imeyne said, as if that were further proof, but I had no idea what she was trying to convict me of or how the bishop’s envoy was involved.

“Holy Father, go you to Oxenford when you leave us?” she asked him.

“Aye,” he said, sounding wary. “We can stay but a few days here.”

“I would have you take her with you to the good sisters at Godstow.”

“We go not to Godstow,” he said, which was clearly an excuse. The nunnery wasn’t even five miles from Oxford. “But I will inquire of the bishop for news of the woman on my return and send word to you.”

“I wot she is a nun for that she speaks in Latin and knows the passages of the mass,” Imeyne said. “I would have you take her to their convent that they may ask among the nunneries who she may be.”

The bishop’s envoy looked even more nervous, but he agreed. So I have till whenever they leave. A few days, the bishop’s envoy said, and with luck that means they won’t leave till after the Slaughter of the Innocents. But I plan to put Agnes to bed and talk to Gawyn as soon as possible.

22

Kivrin didn’t get Agnes to bed till nearly dawn. The arrival of the “three kings,” as she continued to call them, had woken her completely, and she refused to even consider lying down for fear she might miss something, even though she was obviously exhausted.

She tagged after Kivrin as she tried to help Eliwys bring in the food for the feast, whining that she was hungry, and then, when the tables were finally set and the feast begun, refused to eat anything.

Kivrin had no time to argue with her. There was course after course to be brought across the courtyard from the kitchen, trenchers of venison and roast pork and an enormous pie Kivrin half expected blackbirds to fly out of when the crust was cut. According to the priest at Holy Re-Formed, fasting was observed between the midnight mass and the high mass Christmas morning, but everyone, including the bishop’s envoy, ate heartily of the roast pheasant and goose and stewed rabbit in saffron gravy. And drank. The “three kings” called constantly for more wine.

They had already had more than enough. The monk was leering at Maisry, and the clerk, drunk when he arrived, was nearly under the table. The bishop’s envoy was drinking more than either of them, beckoning constantly to Rosemund to bring him the wassail bowl, his gestures growing broader and less clear with every drink.

Good, Kivrin thought. Perhaps he’ll get so drunk he’ll forget he promised Lady Imeyne he’d take me to the nunnery at Godstow. She took the bowl around to Gawyn, hoping to have an opportunity to ask him where the drop was, but he was laughing with some of Sir Bloet’s men, and they called to her for ale and more meat. By the time she got back to Agnes, the little girl was sound asleep, her head nearly in her manchet. Kivrin picked her up carefully and carried her upstairs to Rosemund’s bower.

Above them, the door opened. “Lady Katherine,” Eliwys said, her arms full of bedding. “I am grateful you are here. I have need of your help.”

Agnes stirred.

“Bring the linen sheets from the loft,” Eliwys said. “The churchmen will sleep in this bed, and Sir Bloet’s sister and her women in the loft.”

“Where am I to sleep?” Agnes asked, wriggling out of Kivrin’s arms.

“We will sleep in the barn,” Eliwys said. “But you must wait till we have made up the beds, Agnes. Go and play.”

Agnes didn’t have to be encouraged. She hopped off down the stairs, waving her arm to make her bell ring.

Eliwys handed Kivrin the bedding. “Take these to the loft and bring the miniver coverlid from my husband’s carven chest.”

“How many days do you think the bishop’s envoy and his men will stay?” Kivrin asked.

“I know not,” Eliwys said, looking worried. “I pray not more than a fortnight or we shall not have meat enough. See you do not forget the good bolsters.”

A fortnight was more than enough, well past the rendezvous, and they certainly didn’t look like they were going anywhere. When Kivrin climbed down from the loft with the sheets, the bishop’s envoy was asleep in the high seat, snoring loudly, and the clerk had