They went to the barn for a sack of oats and some hay and took them out to the stable to feed the horses. Gringolet wasn’t among them, which meant Gawyn still wasn’t back. She must speak with him as soon as he returned. The rendezvous was less than a week away, and she still had no idea where the drop was. And with Lord Guillaume coming, everything might change.
Eliwys had only put off doing anything with her till her husband came, and she had told the girls again this morning she expected him today. He might decide to take Kivrin to Oxford, or London, to look for her family, or Sir Bloet might offer to take her back with them to Courcy. She had to talk to him soon. But with guests here, it would be much easier to catch him alone, and in all the bustle and busyness of Christmas, she might even get him to show her the place.
Kivrin dawdled as long as she could with the horses, hoping Gawyn might come back, but Agnes got bored and wanted to go feed corn to the chickens. Kivrin suggested they go feed the steward’s cow.
“It is not our cow,” Rosemund snapped.
“She helped me on that day when I was ill,” she said, thinking of how she had leaned against the cow’s bony back the day she tried to find the drop. “I would thank her for her kindness.”
They went past the pen where the pigs had lately been, and Agnes said, “Poor piglings. I would have fed them an apple.”
“The sky to the north darkens again,” Rosemund said. “I think they will not come.”
“Ay, but they will,” Agnes said. “Sir Bloet has promised me a trinket.”
The steward’s cow was in almost the same place Kivrin had found it, behind the second to the last hut, eating what was left of the same blackening pea vines.
“Good Christmas, Lady Cow,” Agnes said, holding a handful of hay a good meter from the cow’s mouth.
“They speak only at midnight,” Rosemund said.
“I would come see them at midnight, Lady Kivrin,” Agnes said. The cow strained forward. Agnes edged back.
“You cannot, simplehead,” Rosemund said. “You will be at mass.”
The cow extended her neck and took a large-hoofed step forward. Agnes retreated. Kivrin gave the cow a handful of hay.
Agnes watched enviously. “If all are at mass, how do they know the animals speak?” she asked.
Good point, Kivrin thought.
“Father Roche says it is so,” Rosemund said.
Agnes came out from behind Kivrin’s skirts and picked up another handful of hay. “What do they say?” She pointed it in the cow’s general direction.
“They say you know not how to feed them,” Rosemund said.
“They do
There was a sound of horses. Agnes ran between the huts. “They are come!” she shouted, running back. “Sir Bloet is here. I saw them. They ride now through the gate.”
Kivrin hastily scattered the rest of the hay in front of the cow. Rosemund took a handful of oats out of the bag and fed them to the cow, letting it nuzzle the grain out of her open hand.
“Come, Rosemund!” Agnes said. “Sir Bloet is here!”
Rosemund rubbed what was left of the oats off her hand. “I would feed Father Roche’s donkey,” she said, and started toward the church, not even glancing in the direction of the manor.
“But they’ve
Obviously not. Rosemund had reached the donkey, which had found a tuft of foxtail grass sticking out of the snow next to the lychgate. She bent and stuck a handful of oats under its muzzle, to its complete disinterest, and then stood there with her hand on its back, her long dark hair hiding her face.
“Rosemund!” Agnes said, her face red with frustration. “Did you not hear me? They have
The donkey nudged the oats out of the way and clamped its yellow teeth around a large head of the grass. Rosemund continued to offer it the oats.
“Rosemund,” Kivrin said, “I will feed the donkey. You must go to greet your guests.”
“Sir Bloet said he would bring me a trinket,” Agnes said.
Rosemund opened her hands and let the oats fall. “If you like him so much, why do you not ask Father to let you marry him?” she said, and started for the manor.
“I am too little,” Agnes said.
So is Rosemund, Kivrin thought, grabbing Agnes’s hand and starting after her. Rosemund walked rapidly ahead, her chin in the air, not bothering to lift her dragging skirts, ignoring Agnes’s repeated pleas to, “Wait, Rosemund.”
The party had already passed into the courtyard, and Rosemund was already to the sty. Kivrin picked up the pace, pulling Agnes along at a run, and they all arrived in the courtyard at the same time. Kivrin stopped, surprised.
