“It would inspire everyone else. It would be the first start to an uprising.”
“Which would bring Lyf down on us, quick-smart.”
“But with all the battles he’s fighting, and all the provinces and cities he’s occupying, he can’t have many troops to spare right now.”
“It’ll be different in spring.”
“Once he controls his captured lands, he’ll be able to spare an army. If we wait until spring to take him on, it’ll be too late.”
“What’s your plan?”
“A raid on his garrison at Jadgery.”
“If you succeed it’ll be a great boost to morale,” said Swelt.
“I’ll take Leatherhead’s fifty. They’re the only experienced fighters I have.”
“How can you be sure they’ll fight?”
“If we win, they get a share of the plunder.”
Swelt shrugged, his shoulders wobbling. “If you win, it’ll also bind them to you.”
“What if I lose?”
“Try to lose the thugs we don’t want back.”
As Swelt was waddling out, panting with each breath, Rix said, “Swelt?”
He turned. “Yes?”
“How’s Glynnie getting on?”
“Surely you know better than I do?”
“She’s been avoiding me,” said Rix.
Swelt inflated his cheeks. “I’m not one to carry tales, Rixium!”
“I need to know.”
“Well, I have to admire the girl.”
“For taking charge of the household?”
“No,” said Swelt, “for taking on the lowest, dirtiest and most menial tasks of all, and doing them perfectly.”
He went out, leaving Rix staring after him.
“You called for me, Lord Deadhand?” said Glynnie, from behind Rix.
He had not realised she was there. He started and knocked the ink bottle across his map.
“Sorry, Lord Deadhand. Let me clean it up.”
“I’ll do it!” he said, more brusquely than he had intended. “And call me Rix, dammit.”
She stepped back smartly, until he could barely see her in the dim light, then stood stiffly to attention as though awaiting Lady Ricinus’s pleasure.
“Don’t be like that, Glynnie,” he said, sighing.
“How may I serve you, Lord?” she said in a voice stripped of all emotion, though it quavered on Lord.
“Please, not after all we’ve been through together.”
“That was then,” she said quietly. “This is now.”
“We were friends. I miss you. I need you.”
Her face was tilted away from him. “You’re back where you belong, the lord of a manor with thousands of rich acres and hundreds of servants. And I’m back where I belong — the least of them all. I’m not making that mistake again.”
“You’re not least,” said Rix. “I gave you charge of the household servants.”
“I begged you not to. I’m just a maid — the least of all.”
“You’re strong and clever, and you know how House Ricinus was run.”
“But I didn’t run it. I don’t give orders, I obey them.”
“You can run this household; I know you can.”
“They won’t have me, and I don’t want it.”
“Is that why you’re doing the dirty jobs? To spite me?”
“When I see a job that needs doing, I do it. There’s nothing more to say. Will that be all, Lord?”
She was turning to go when he said sharply, “What’s happened? What did they do?”
“Nothing, Deadhand,” she muttered. “Just the everyday life of a servant in a great house.”
He sprang up, caught her by the shoulder and turned her around. She resisted, then obeyed. Her left eyebrow was badly cut and swollen, the area around her eye turning blue-black.
“Who hit you?” he raged.
“I’ll never say and you can’t make me.”
“I’ll have the lot of them up here. I’ll make the bastards talk.”
“And they’ll get me for it. Rix — Lord,” she clutched at his hands. “I told you this would happen. Why wouldn’t you listen?”
“I was trying to do the right thing. You’re so clever and capable, and you’ve done so much for me.”
Glynnie exploded. “You’re so stupid!”
“What are you talking about?” he said, genuinely bewildered.
“Ten days ago you were looking for a housemaid’s position for me, without asking me, because I’m an inexperienced girl who knows nothing of the ways of the world. Now, suddenly I’m old and experienced enough to be put in charge of a vast household?”
After a long pause, he said quietly, “I — wanted to make up for the way I’d treated you.”
“You’ve got to take it back.”
“If I do, they’ll assume I’m weak. They’ll know they’ve won.”
“They have won. You know the rumours Blathy is spreading about me?”
“No,” said Rix, frowning. “How could I?”
She made an exasperated noise. “She’s calling me your mistress — though that’s not the word she uses.” She flushed.
“What word does she use?”
“Slut! Your slut, Rix.”
“But I’m trying to do the right thing,” he bellowed.
“It’s not working.” She went out.
Rix threw himself on the huge old bed, which emitted clouds of mouldy dust.
Damn Blathy. He had to get rid of her, right now. He could not put off the evil moment any longer. He sprang up and headed downstairs to the servants’ quarters, feeling that familiar pain in his belly again. What if she wouldn’t go and he had to throw her out?
“Where’s Blathy?” he said to the widow Lobb, a toothless crone who was sitting by a narrow window, using a darning needle to gouge an ugly splinter from a boy’s hand, and making a bloody mess of it. She must have been half blind. The boy’s eyes were damp and he was trying not to cry out.
“I’ll take you to her, Lord,” said the boy — a sturdy, grey-eyed lad of about eight years, with wild sandy hair and a gap where he’d lost two front teeth.
Rix looked down at the boy’s raw hand. “Yes, right away.”
The boy wriggled free of the widow Lobb. “This way, Lord Deadhand.”
“Mind you come straight back,” Lobb said sharply.
“What’s your name, lad?” said Rix, following.
“Thom, Lord. I’m one of the wood boys.”
“An important job. I’ll see you get leather gloves in future.”
“Thank you, Lord.”
Thom led Rix through a maze of passages and up a damp, south-facing tower to a weathered plank door. “Here’s Blathy’s room, Lord.”
“Thanks.” The boy was waiting, watching him, and Rix didn’t want any witnesses. “Better run back and get that splinter out.”
Thom studied his butchered palm, trembling. Rix took pity on him. “Go down and find Glynnie — you know her, don’t you?”
“Yes, Lord. She’s pretty.” Thom reddened. “And kind.”
“Tell her I sent you. She’ll have that splinter out so quick you won’t even feel it.”
“Thank you, Lord.” Thom ran.
Rix took a deep breath and rapped on the door. “Blathy, come out.” What if she wouldn’t go? He should have brought some guards.
After a minute or two she wrenched the door open and stood there in her shift, staring at him. She must have come from her bed, for her heavy-lidded eyes were half closed, her long hair was a tangled mess and her feet were bare.
“What do you want, Deadhand?” she said imperiously.
“According to the official charter, you have no right here. I’m putting you out. Gather your things.”
She stared at him for a long time, then strode across to the rumpled bed and in one swift movement drew her shift over her head and dropped it on the floor. She stood before him, proud, majestic and completely naked.
“Throw me out.”
She was bluffing. She had to be.
“Get dressed.”
“Make me.”
He wasn’t going along that road. “I’ll send the guards up, and some women to dress you.”
She picked up a heavy knife. “They’d better come armed.”
“They will,” said Rix, cursing her.
“If you expel me I’ll tear my clothes off and walk naked into the snow, to freeze to death.”
“That’s your choice, not mine.”
“But you’ll be blamed. You’ll bear it for the rest of your life.”