in unison as the flails were raised again, swing, thump, step, swing, thump, step, obeying the rhythm of the caller. Miss a beat, miss a step and it would be a human skull that was cracked instead of the ear of grain.
. . . Kind Sir, you're the man to do the deed,
To sow my meadow with the wanton seed . . .
The grain skipped and pattered in golden raindrops across the threshing floor and the dust rose in a dense cloud until the women seemed to be dancing on mist. The girls had masked their mouths and noses with rags to keep from choking, but still they coughed.
. . . then I sowed high and I sowed low,
And under her hush the seed did grow. . .
Several of the girls began to giggle. Marion shook her head at them, but though her mouth was covered against the dust, Elena could see that her eyes were watering with mirth. Had she chosen that song deliberately, knowing that Master Raffaele was listening?
Elena glanced over at the tall figure standing motionless in the hot sun. His expression had not changed. If he knew they were taunting him, he showed no sign of it. She felt a surge of pity for the man, but it was not without a shiver of revulsion.
Master Raffaele strode towards the barn.
Marion, watching him out of the corner of her eye, shouted, 'Cease flail!'
Like dogs whistled to heel, the women instantly lowered their flails. It was a command they never disobeyed. If a small child ran heedlessly into the barn or a woman stumbled and fell, those words could save a life.
All heads turned to Master Raffaele as the dust swirled around his knees. Marion took a step forward, expecting the manor's steward to address her with an instruction or complaint, but he ignored her. His eyes searched the circle. The women shuffled uneasily. Why didn't the man speak? Someone was in trouble, they could tell from his grim stare. It was typical of the old bastard to make them wait for the axe to descend.
Elena stared fixedly at the battered sheaves lying at her feet, praying she would not be noticed. She saw his thick leather shoes take a pace towards her, but she didn't look up. Her face flushed with guilt beneath the rag mask as she remembered the full flagon of wine she'd broken in the manor's kitchens yesterday. She'd scuffled the rushes on the floor to hide the spill and smuggled the smashed flagon out, hiding the pieces under a pile of rubbish in the yard. Surely he couldn't have found out? But what if one of the other servants had seen her and reported it? There were always those who sought to ingratiate themselves or divert attention from their own crimes by reporting someone else's.
She saw the brown shoes turn as if the wearer was about to walk away. In her relief she must have relaxed her grip on her flail. It slipped from her sweaty fingers and fell with a dull thump. The shoes turned back.
'You, come with me.'
He was addressing someone else, he had to be. She dared not look up.
'Did you hear what I said?'
His voice was as high-pitched as a little girl's, but booming from his great barrel chest, it echoed off the barn walls.
She felt the hand of the woman next to her pushing her in the back.
'Do as he says, Elena,' she whispered. 'Don't bait him. He's a bear with a toothache today.'
The field hands and servants might mimic the steward behind his back, but few dared do so in his hearing. Men knew from bitter experience that if he so much as caught them grinning, they'd be lucky to escape with their faces smashed to a pulp. He might sound like a small boy, but Master Raffaele had the temper of a charging bull and the bulk and strength to match.
The steward waited long enough to be certain Elena was following, then he strode from the barn. Elena stumbled after him. Her legs felt as if they were chained to the threshing floor, but somehow she pushed her feet forward. Every woman in the threshing circle was watching her, some anxiously, others winking at each other as if they thought he had called her out because he wanted a tumble.
Surely he wouldn't have taken her so publicly if that was his intention. Old Walter, the gatekeeper at the manor, had tried to drag most of the