‘We’re free,’ Isolde said. ‘Freize suddenly told his master that it was he who released us from the cellar under the gatehouse.’

Ishraq raised herself up onto one elbow. ‘Did he say that? Why? And did they believe him?’

‘He was convincing. He insisted. I don’t think they wholly believed him but at any rate, they accepted it.’

‘Did he say why he confessed to such a thing?’

‘No. I think it was to be of service to us. And better than that, they have said that we can travel with them while our roads lie together.’

‘Where are they going?’

‘They follow orders. They go where they are told. But there is only one way out of the village so we will all go east for the time being. We can travel with them and we will be safer on the road than with strangers or alone.’

‘I don’t like Brother Peter much.’

‘He’s all right. Freize swore to be my knight errant.’

Ishraq giggled. ‘He has a good heart. You might be glad of him one day. He certainly served us tonight.’

Isolde stripped off the blue gown, and came in her chemise to the side of the bed. ‘Is there anything you want? A small ale? Shall I sponge your bruises?’

‘No, I am ready to sleep again.’

The bed creaked gently as Isolde got in beside her. ‘Goodnight, my sister,’ she said, as she had said almost every night of her life.

‘Goodnight, dearest.’


VITTORITO, ITALY, OCTOBER 1453