William hands out Peter's punishment, and puts Beatrice to work

The smell of raw sewage made Peter cover his face with his arm, while descending the steps into the torch-lit bowels of the stone keep. In the flickering light he saw William holding a shovel, while standing next to a large bucket. "My Liege, why did you choose such a terrible place to meet?" He then felt like vomiting as William handed him the shovel which was covered in excrement.

"The cesspit needs emptying."

"My Liege, the castle employs a gong farmer to empty the cesspit."

"Well, it's either I beat the shit out of you, or you clean up everybody else's. What is it to be?"

"Why do you choose to use such angry words with me?"

"Beatrice Buxton, the town weaver. She came to sell her fine tapestries." William held a bag of rose petals to his face as he opened the door to the cavernous pit. "But you turned her away. Why?"

"Her tapestries are of low quality."

"Then you question my judgment... an offence worthy of flogging."

Peter swallowed deeply. "I wouldn't dream of it, my Liege."

"I have inspected her tapestries and believe them to be woven by the hands of an angel."

"You're right. Beatrice is an angel. In fact, I love her deeply. But she broke my heart and married another man."

"Her husband is dead... and yet you're still bitter?" William glared at Peter. "You had me freezing my bollocks off, just because yours are bitter?"

"I asked Beatrice again since his . But she still refuses me."

"But, Peter. Her refusal has nothing to do about the woman being cruel. Nor is it to do with her still loving her husband."

"Then what is it, my Liege?"

William motioned with his head, signalling for a forlorn Peter to enter the pit. "It's about you being as ugly as sin. Now, Peter, the gong farmer. You have a cesspit to empty."

~

Towards the East the sun had barely melted over the horizon, while to the West a distant winter storm brewed. Beatrice and Matilda found themselves caught in the middle while they waited outside the guardhouse. The studded oak door finally clunked as it opened. Immediately Matilda pinched her nose as a familiar face peeped around the door. "My God... Peter... you stink worse than usual."

"Good day to you both, Matilda, and Big Tits Beatrice."

Beatrice chocked as she stepped backwards. "You should change your name to Peter The Arse. What is wrong with you? You smell like a filthy moat rat."

"I've been knee deep in shit."

"What trouble have you been in this time?"

"No literally... I've been knee deep in shit. Yesterday the Baron had me cleaning out the cesspit all afternoon... that's six months of crap I had to carry to the dung cart."

Matilda looked on suspiciously. "Isn't that Gordon the Gong Farmer's job? You're doing him out of a living."

"He needed some help to shift it. I suppose that's the downside to a good sprout harvest."

~

Inside the great hall Beatrice listened diligently as Peter explained the Baron's wishes. Along with Matilda, she chalked notes onto a square of slate. Peter then stopped explaining about the Baron's preferred style of tapestry. "You know, Beatrice? That's what I always liked about you."

"What do you mean?"

"You're like me. Educated."

"That will probably have something to do with the fact we shared the same teacher, Mother Agnes."

"You should choose your next man wisely. Just think how clever our children will be. He will have two parents to educate him... or God forbid we have a daughter."

Peter's words burned Matilda's ears like hot wax. Her anger boiled over causing her to snap her chalk. "What's wrong with having a daughter?"

"It's a man's world."

Beatrice felt compelled to defend her employee, "Aye, it maybe. But I'm doing just fine."

"Yes you can weave as well as anyone, Bea. But your tits and golden locks are what set you apart, Beatrice. If you were fat and greasy like Matilda," Peter held his hands apologetically to Matilda. "No offence. But I doubt you would be working here."

"I should break you in two and feed you to the pigs."

"God is my witness. I'm only telling the truth."

Beatrice pulled back Matilda who appeared ready to throw a punch at the chamberlain. Beatrice then glared at Peter. "If the Baron was only interested in looks, then how did you get a job here..? Your face makes a leper's backside look handsome."

"Wow. I've been called many things during my time. But never have I been called a leper's backside before. You have an inventive tongue, Bea."

"You never used to be such a horrible scrotum. I think all this has to do with your obsession with me."

The door opened and William stepped into the great hall. He glanced at Peter then clicked his fingers. "Peter."

"Yes my Liege."

"I've had a change of heart. I'm going to organise the furnishings myself."

"Oh." Peter bowed his head. "Whatever you deem best."

"You can go and busy yourself in the vegetable garden, as I believe it needs weeding."

"It's raining hailstones that are the size of small catapult shot."

William nonchalantly shrugged. "And you waste my time with this inaccurate quibble because..?" He then glared at Peter who wilted under his stare. "What are you waiting for? Go."

"Right away, my Liege."

Once William had closed the door behind Peter, he smiled at Beatrice. "Right, tell me what the runt has told you... I'm guessing most of it is wrong. So I hope you have brought plenty of chalk."

~

The hail thundered on the thatched roof of the workshop. Despite the cutting wind outside, a high spirited Beatrice felt a spring in her step while she hung her cloak on the wooden peg. In the flickering light of the candles, she laid the chalk boards side by side on the wooden bench. After inspecting the boards for a moment, she glanced at Matilda who was restocking the fire grate. "Matilda, this is... this is..."

"Amazing?"

"Yes. I can't even speak because I'm so excited."

"Needless to say we have never had such an order. Not even from the abbey. We have enough work to keep us busy for a year... maybe longer."

Beatrice chewed her fingernail while studying the Baron's order. "Longer. Eighteen months I would say. We'll have to train more girls. This is good, not just for us, but the town."

"Just think, we could build and expand the business. We could get more work as word of mouth spreads."

"We're gonna be rich, Matilda. Bloody rich. People are going to have to start calling me, my Lady."

Matilda warmed her hands in front of the flames as the fire engulfed the logs. "Never mind being called Lady. I'm going ask people to call me Queen ... Queen Matilda."

~

The workshop resembled a jungle of loose ends and pieces of material. Beatrice stood alone while she loaded the loom with red thread. Her ears were alerted by the sound of the door opening. "That was quick Matilda... or have you forgotten the money again?"

"Excuse me, Madam."

"Oh, my Liege."

~

What has Willam come for?

1) Check on the work

2) A more 'personal' matter

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