The cow named Eclair had recovered by the time Josse went to see to her the next morning. Adrien said nothing to Marinette about it, but he looked at her with new interest. She felt him watching her as she prepared breakfast.

Lila had been in an unusually good mood when Marinette helped her sister to dress. But she was always happiest on Sundays. She loved sitting at the very front of the church during the services, wearing her best clothes and with her hair beautifully coiffed. She loved seeing the pews fill with the members of Adrien's congregation.

It was not a long walk from the vicarage to the church, and the servants went as a group. Adrien and Lila had gone ahead in the horse-drawn wagon so Lila's fine clothes would not be soiled by muck and mire.

Marinette held Manon hand in tight grip. The girl scampered more than she walked, and her darkish plaits bounced against the back of the old cloak she wore. It was freezing cold, and Marinette had carefully stuffed paper inside Manon's shoes to keep her feet warm and dry but also because the shoes were hand-me-downs form one of the maids whose feet were much bigger. But Manon did not complain. Shoes were shoes, and she had already learned to be happy with what she had.

Marinette's heart lifted when she saw the church looming before them as they reached Clemont. The newly built tower was a stately sight, and the metal roof gleamed in the winter sun. A cemetery wall made of red painted blanks around the church, and there were three big red entrances with roof tiles, and iron gates to prevent livestock from wandering into the cemetery. Merely stepping inside the churchyard made Marinette's heart sing, and when they entered the church itself, she took a deep breath and allowed the silent atmosphere to seep inside her.

She and Manon took seats at the very back. There were forty-eight pews in all, but lately they were never filled. The crowds of people who had once flocked to the coastal area during the great hearing era hundred years earlier were now only a memory. Marinette's maternal grandmother had told her about the old days, recounting stories she had heard from her own parents and grandparents. Back then, everything had been different. The herring was so abundant they hardly knew what to do with all the fish, while people had come from all over Corbie to settle in the area.

But the herring had disappeared a war and famine had pleaded the lands. Now only the stories remained. And many people stood empty, while the rest were occupied by the listless, pale, and gaunts residents of Clemont. Looking at their faces, Marinette saw a defeated people, devoid of hope. The church had windows only on thes south wall but the light streaming in was so lovely that she felt tears well up in her eyes. The pulpit was also on the south side. The murmuring among the congregation faded as Adrien climbed the stairs to the pulpit.

The service began with a hymn, and Marinette put extra effort into the song, as she usually did, since she knew she had a beautiful singing voice. It was a small vanity she allowed herself because Manon love to hear her sing. She tried hard to understand what Adrien was saying.

Latin was the only language permitted in the church, both for the sermon and prayers. This was a great burden from most members of the congregation, since they were more accustomed to speaking Occitan and French. But he had a lovely voice. Marinette's closed her eyes and immediately felt the warmth of Adrien's hands. She opened her eyes and forced herself to stare at the back of Lila's head, at the very front of the church. Lila wore her hair in a beautiful braid that Marinette had fixed for her that morning. The white collar of her dress was freshly starched.

She was nodding as Adrien preached.

Marinette forced her thoughts away from the sound of Adrien's voice and the memory of his hand touching hers. He was Lila's husband, yet she was sitting here in God's house thinking these forbidden thoughts. It would come as no surprise if lightning struck the church and killed her on the spot, as punishment for her ungodliness. She squeezed Manon's hand and made herself listen, trying to understand the words issuing from the pulpits. Adrien was talking about the great turmoil spreading across their kingdom and their parish, and about their countrymen who are carrying on a brave fight against the devil by seeking out his envoys and bringing them to trial. The congregation listened as if mesmerized.

The devil was as much a part of their daily lives as God was. Satan was omnipresent -danger lurked in the eyes of cats, in the ocean deep, in the raven perched in the tree. Satan was as real as a father or a brother, or the neighbour living next door. The fact that the evil one could not be seen by the naked eye made him even more dangerous, and constant vigilance was required.

« So far we have been spared, », said Adrien, his voice resounding so beautifully between the stone walls. « But it is only a matter of time before Satan sinks his claws into children and women in our little corner of the world as well. So I beseech you to be watchfull. the signs will be evident. Keep God's watch full eye on your wife, your daughter, your mates, your neighbour, your mother in law, and your sister. The sooner we find these brides of the devil who dwell among us, the sooner we can strike back and prevent Satan from claiming a foothold here. »

Everyone nodded, an agitated rosy flush appearing on their cheeks. Any of the children who sniggered received a sharp book in the site, a tug on their hair, or a box on the ear .

The rest of the church service was over much too soon. It was a break from the daily routine, a time for everyone to rest and turn their attention to the needs of their soul. Marinette stood up and took a firm grip on Manon hand so she would not get lost in a crowd of people all trying to leave at once. When they stepped outside, she shivered in the cold.

« Fox upon you! » a voice cried behind her.

Marinette turned in surprise, but when she saw who had cursed her she lowered her eyes. It was Chloé Bourgeois, the widow of Kim Lê Chién who had perished along with Luka and the others on the fishing boat.

Chloé was one of the reason she had not been able to stay in Abbeville but had been forced instead to accept Lila's offer. Chloé's hatred towards her knew no bounds, since she blamed Marinette for what happened. And Marinette knew why the woman felt that way, even though the words she had called to Luka on that fateful morning had not caused the boat to sink.

Marinette's words had not drowned Luka and his men; it was the fault of the storm that had suddenly overtaken them. Yet the things had not gone well for Chloé after Kim died, and she blamed her misfortune on Marinette.

« Chloé, not on the church grounds, not on sacred soil, » Kagami Tsurugi admonished the husbandless wife, drawing her away.

Marinette gave Kagami a grateful look and quickly moved off with Manon before the confrontation turned into an even bigger spectacle. People had turned to stare at her, and she knew that many thought Chloé's accusations were justified. But Kagami had always been a kind and fair woman. She was the one, after all, who had helped bring Manon into the world on that spring morning eight years ago.

The birth of every child in the area had been overseen by Kagami, who was skilled at midwifery. It was also rumoured that she secretly helped poor girls who had landed in trouble, but that was not something Marinette fully believed.

With heavy steps she headed back toward the vicarage. The bliss she had felt after the church service was gone, and the memories of that unhappy day made her drag her feet on the short walk home. Usually she tried not to dwell on the past. Even God could not undo what was done. And to some extent Luka had only himself to blame. His pride had caused him to fall. It was something she had warned him against ever since she agreed to marry him, but he had refused to listen. And now he and the other s lay at the bottom of the sea as prey for the fish, while she and her daughter trudged along as lowly servants, heading for her sister's home. She would spend the rest of her life knowing that she sent off her husband with harsh words the last time she saw him.

Words that Chloé, and God knew how many others from Abbevile, now held against her.

It all began with a cask of salt. Word had come that henceforth all trade with foreign lands must be conducted via Ponthieu, and Normandie had been forbidden to carry on trade with Britannia or any of the other countries with which they had successfully conducted business in the past. This had further increased the poverty of the region, and a great animosity arose against the powers that had so blithely arrived at this decision. Not everyone abided by the rules, and coastal patrols were kept busy confiscating goods that had not been properly cleared by regulations; not doing so would only bring misfortune upon their heads. And Luka had nodded, assuring her that he agreed.

So when the customs official Xavier Ramier knocked on the door one afternoon in early September, she was not concerned as she let him enter heir home. But one look at Luka sitting at the kitchen table made her realise she had made a grave mistake. It took Ramier only a few minutes to find the illegal cask of salt in the back of the tool cupboard. Marinette understood at once what this meant, causing her to clench her fists in the pockets of her tunic. She had warned so many times not to do something foolish. Yet he could not resist.

She knew him so well. He had that unabashed look of pride in his eyes that shone through the poverty and lent him a tenacious strength. The mere fact that he had courted her testified to the courage he possessed, which most other certainly lacked. He had not known her father cared little about her fate. In Luka's eyes, she was the daughter of a wealthy man and should have been beyond his reach. But that same audacity, that same pride and strength, had now brought them to ruin.

When the customs official entered their small home, he announced that in three days he would return to confiscate the boat Luka had spent so many years toiling to make his own, even though the fishing was meagre and starvation was a constant threat. The boat was his, yet he had risked everything for the sake of a cask of salt, which he had illegally purchased in Britannia.

Marinette was furious. Angrier than she had ever been before. She wanted to hit him, scratch his eyes and tear out his hair. His cursed pride was about to rob them of everything.

How would they support themselves now?

She always took whatever work she could find, but she was unable to bring in many franc, and it would not be easy for Luka to get hired as crew on someone else's boat now they were forbidden from trading with foreign goods. And the fishing was no longer profitable.

Luka had reached out to put his hand on her shoulder, but she had shrugged it off and turned her back to him. Then she had wept bitter tears. From anger and from fear. Outside their small home the wind was blowing harder, and when Luka got out of bed at dawn, she sat up and asked were he was going.

« We are going out in the boat, » he replied, pulling on his trousers and shirt.

Marinette had merely glared at him as Manon slept soundly on the bench in the kitchen.

« In this weather? Are you out of your mind? »

« If they are going to take away my boat in three days time, we need to do all we can before then, » he said, putting on his coat.

Marinette hurriedly dressed and followed him out of the house. He did not stop long enough to eat anything. He seemed in such a hurry to go out into the stormy weather, it was as if the devil were on his heels.

« You must not go out today! » she shouted, trying to be heard over the roar of the wind. As she pursued him down the street, curios neighbours emerged to watch. Chloé Bourgeois' husband Kim came out too, with an equally furious wife running after him.

« You will bring death upon yourselves if you go out in this weather » screamed Chloé shrilly as she tugged at Kim's jacket.

He pulled free and snarled at her: « We have no choice if you want the children to have food to eat. »

Luka nodded at Kim, and the two of them headed for the spot where the boat was moored. Marinette watched his broad so fiercely that she could hardly breathe. At the top of her lungs she yelled:

« Have it your way then, Luka Couffaine! Let the sea take you and your cursed boat, because I do not want you any more! »

She noticed Chloé's frightened expression as she turned away. With her skirts flapping around her legs, Marinette rushed back inside. As she threw herself on to the bed to weep.

She had no idea how those words would continue to haunt her, even into death.