Free Music of the Distant Stars by Alys Clare

was not very pronounced. I had observed how sometimes a woman’s breasts fill out dramatically before she even suspects she is carrying a child, and this seemed to have been the case with the dead girl.
    ‘It is midsummer,’ Edild murmured, ‘and I judge that this child was conceived in February, perhaps early in March.’
    I would have to find out if Ida had been here at Lakehall then. Before I could stop myself, other questions began racing through my mind. If she had, was she already the object of Derman’s hopeless love? Had he seen her, desired her, waylaid her and forced himself on her? Oh, but such a thing was abhorrent, and surely Ida would have protested, shouted out at her rape, demanded that justice be served on her attacker? But perhaps she had understood he could not help it and had taken pity on him, not wanting to make his miserable life any worse. Oh, but what of the infant she carried? Would it have grown up like its poor, pathetic father and been a child all its life? Ida, oh, Ida, what did you think? How could you bear to—
    My concentration had lapsed with my wild thoughts, and I dropped a bottle of lavender oil. Quick as a flash Edild’s hand shot out and caught it. She looked me straight in the eye and said sharply, ‘You are no use to me like this, Lassair. I know this is not easy for you, but if you cannot pull yourself together, I shall send you home.’
    My aunt is very rarely cross with me. The fact that I had richly earned the reprimand made me feel even worse.
    We worked side by side in silence until we had finished our task. Edild wrapped the last length of the shroud around Ida’s head, covering the glossy, curly hair. Then she bent down, whispered something I did not hear and kissed the stone-cold brow. She eased the end of the white cloth across the dead face, tucking the end in securely. I had packed up the oils, perfumes, wash cloths and towels that we had used into Edild’s leather bag and now she held out her hand for it. I gave it to her. She smiled at me and said, ‘You have done well.’
    Then we stepped outside into the sunshine.
    We had been summoned to see the lord and lady before we left. Vowing not to allow my emotions to get the better of me again, I followed Edild’s straight back into the hall. Lord Gilbert and Lady Emma sat on one side of the great hearth. Opposite them sat another woman, younger than Lady Emma, whom I guessed must be Lady Claude. Edild had stopped and was standing before the lord and lady. Invited to speak, she said that Ida’s body was now freshly enshrouded and ready for burial. I noticed she did not mention the pregnancy. Perhaps, like me, she had decided that if Ida had not revealed her secret, then neither should we.
    I slipped into her shadow, from where I felt it was safe to study Lady Claude de Seés.
    I thought she was a few years older than me, perhaps in her early twenties, although her uncompromising appearance made her age hard to determine. I recalled what Hrype had said, that she had wished to become a nun. A woman with such a vocation would naturally not have wasted her own or anyone else’s time making the best of herself while she searched for a husband. Looking at her, I realized that she was clad as if she had achieved her ambition, for her gown, although beautifully made of soft silk that had a sheen on it only found in the costliest fabric, was of unrelieved black. Around her face she wore a tightly-fitting headdress not unlike those worn by the nuns of Chatteris. It covered her forehead down to just above her eyebrows and curved round either side of her face, joining at the jaw with the wimple around her throat. She wore a heavy, jewelled crucifix around her neck, the cross hanging over her flat chest.
    She was pale and the skin of her face was coarse; even from where I stood I could see enlarged pores in the flesh either side of her longish nose. Her eyes were light and the lashes all but invisible. Her mouth was small and,