From their spot on the hillside they had a perfect view of the city walls. There was one gate to the north and another to the east. The south and west were on the coast, impenetrable aside from the small port, which was, of course, fiercely guarded.

“How are we going to get in?” Jen asked.

Evelyn hunkered down, ran her tongue around her teeth. “I don’t know yet. How did you get out?”

“I hid in a group of field women.”

“Do you know which gate you took?”

“The north, I think.”

“And they go back the same way?”

Jen looked across at Evelyn. “Yes. Every night. Surely…You’re too tall. And your coat, they’ll recognise the coat.”

“Not if it’s in a bag, stuffed with straw.”

“We haven’t got a bag. Or any straw.”

Evelyn stood up. “I do not know why the Gwithon thinks you and your brother are worth all this trouble, Jen, but heavens help me, if you do not try to keep your mouth shut at least some of the time you will never make it to her table. We will make or find a bag. We will find straw, or corn, or lavender. We will find a muddy field and we will make our hands and faces dirty, as if we toiled all day. We will find a group of field women heading home for the night and we will join them, making conversation as we walk, and we will pass through the gate. Do you have any other objections?” Evelyn began to walk down the hill, her long coat flapping. “Come on Jen. Every tick tock of the clock…”

“Your bow! Our things!” Jen called out after her.

Evelyn waved a hand in the air and kept walking. “Belton will take care of them.”

Jen looked at the dog. “I don’t know how you put up with her.”

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