Shield of Three Lions
pushed the door back and stood in darkness.
    “I dropped our food,” Dame Margery whispered.
    “Then we must gather it. They can’t hear us now.”
    We groped on the passage floor, now more aware of a close sound: rats. Lance growled and snapped at the vermin as we began to feel our way along the walls. ’Twas a long downward passage, a half mile or more of descent, hot and airless, straight into Hell. Then a cool breeze hit and we heard water running.
    “We’re at a cave by the river,” I whispered, Maisry’s and my secret chapel.
    More and more knights at the ford, splashing back and forth, shouting out in thick drunken voices. Lance growled—I clenched his muzzle.
    Then Dame Margery and I settled ourselves close against a wall for a long grim night.

THE COMING OF DAWN UNNERVED ME. THE FIRST DAY that my mother and father were not alive and I could not bear it. I began to tremble violently and my breath failed so I choked, waking Dame Margery from her groggy sleep. With face still puffed from constant tears, she comforted me like a babe, crooning and stroking me.
    We then began our careful preparation for my escape. Arthur’s clothes were too big for me but would do. First I slipped on his leggings made of coarse linen and none too clean and tied them at my waist with the braiel which was studded with metal disks. Dame Margery suggested we should slit the crotch so I could relieve myself with ease. Next I drew the socks of itchy dark green wool over my legs and tied them firmly by bands above my knees. His yellow linen shirt hung like a tent and the green tunic fell almost to my ankles. Dame Margery had her sewing bag at her waist and hemmed the tunic so it reached just below my knees, then punched the leather belt to fasten over it.
    Finally she tore Peg’s bloodstained brown dress into neat strips and stuffed some of them in the toes of the huge yellow boots. Others she stitched inside the yellow felt hat so it sat firm. The hardest part was cutting my hair, for it seemed so final. The braids came off to just below my ears and Margery hacked a fringe across my forehead so I could see. Without the weight, my hair curled against my head and the dame said the effect was not too bad.
    I then had her construct a harness of the strips to wear as a money belt between my legs. She made individual divisions so that the coins wouldn’t slide to one place to jingle and make an uncomfortable lump; I added my precious tiny vial, red ribbon and scroll to the treasure and we flattened the whole against my buttocks and inner thighs. She then devised a small bundle to carry at my leather belt with a few deniers and food; there were still strips left over to pack in my drafsack for emergencies.
    Over and over our activities came to a breathless standstill when we heard lewd shouts and rioting from the castle. We clutched each other in terrified embrace and waited for the shouts to cease. Once a knight scared us most senseless when he appeared through the mist on the far side of the river, but he was stopped from crossing by the weir.
    By late afternoon we were ready. I was dressed, had my dagger in my belt, my bundle on the other side, my bow and arrows slung on one shoulder, and a fur pelisse fastened on the other for warmth and sleeping. I’d been sorely tempted in my choice of fur to take my father’s fine vair, but ’twas wiser to stay with Arthur’s humble goatskin I now wore. Dame Margery said I looked like any common boy on the road, albeit a little small to be on my own.
    “Best say ye’re eight, if anyone asks,” she advised. “Ye’re short even for a girl. Also, not so much is expected of an eight-year-old.”
    “When should we start?” I asked.
    “Not until dark.” I could hear the fear in her voice. “I promised Lord William to guide you and certes I remember the way to Hadrian’s Wall. But London—well, we can ask a traveler which way it lies.
    “Surely to the south. North leads to

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