King of the Middle March by Kevin Crossley-Holland

Serle shouldn’t have brought her. She is Lady Judith’s chamber-servant, and she didn’t dare tell Lady Judith she was leaving. She just hurried out of Holt early one morning carrying Kester on her back.
    Lord Stephen is very upset about this, and Sir John will be angry as well because Tanwen and Serle can never marry. She’s only a servant and has no parents or property.
    Kester was born on the ninth day of May. So he’s two years and two months and two weeks old. With his dark hair and dark eyes and funny, pointed chin, he looks much more like Tanwen than Serle, and that’s a good thing. When he laughs, it’s a mixture of chuckles and snorts.
    Tanwen has told me much more news than Serle, and what’s most important is the news about Gatty. I mean, about her father, Hum, and about Lankin.
    Soon after we rode out of the March, Hum had pains in his stomach and lost his appetite, and then he died. Lankin came to his funeral.
    â€œIt was the first time he’d come out of his hut all year,” Tanwen told me, “and his hair had grown down to his shoulders. The stump of his right wrist was all purple and puffy. In the middle of the service, Lankin bawled out: ‘Scum! The filthy liar! He’ll rot in hell for ten thousand years.’”
    â€œThat’s terrible!”
    â€œWell! Hum lied about him in the manor court, didn’t he?” Tanwen said. “Anyhow, Gatty can never be betrothed to Jankin now. Not now his father has dishonored hers.”
    Later, I asked Serle what would happen to Gatty, with her mother and her father both dead, and only her grandmother left, lying like a corpse in their cottage.
    Serle stared at me, and his thin lips curled. “Well, Arthur, seeing as you’re not there to look after her yourself…”
    Two years ago, I would have been provoked. But not now.
    â€œâ€¦Sir John’s asked Oliver to keep an eye on her. The strange thing is that, since Hum died, Gatty has started to sing.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œShe sings all day long. Sad songs. Happy songs. No one has taught them to her. Oliver says it’s a little March miracle.”
    Another thing I’ve found out is that Lady Cécile is Sir William’s mistress.
    I remember Sir John did tell me Sir William was away from home half the time, visiting his manor in Champagne; and I think he said he also visited a lady there. But it was all so far away then.
    Lady Cécile is French, and firm and kind, and treats everyone as if they were her children, even Sir William. She’s rather top-heavy, and the way she gathers Kester to her, you’d think he might suffocate. But he crows and chortles, and seems to like it, and evidently Sir William does too.
    I can’t understand why Lady Cécile is fond of my father. How can she be? I quite like her, but seeing her and Sir William together makes me think of Lady Alice.
    Her curl dancing out from under her wimple. Her orange cloak. Our weekly French lessons and laughter. And the way she’s helped me try to meet my mother.
    â€œSir William shouts at Lady Alice,” Tom told me once, “and sometimes he thrashes her, but he still worships her.”
    Grace told me Lady Alice often cries when Sir William is away in Champagne. She has to do all the lady’s work and half the lord’s as well, figuring the accounts and managing the duties on the two manors. She goes to bed tired and wakes up tired, and that makes her cry again.
    Sir William and Lady Cécile have pitched their tent on the other side of the one Rhys and Turold share. I think they dishonor Lady Alice in the way that Queen Guinevere and Sir Lancelot dishonor King Arthur.
    Sir William is a one-eyed, silvery, bristling wild boar. He may be a murderer. He used my mother and then he threw her away.
    My ring! Our unending ring…

19
WINNIE’S LETTER
    N OW! FIVE FULL DAYS AFTER HE RODE IN, MY FATHER has given me a