"Come in! Come in!" the baron called to them.

And then there were several boys coming to take their horses to the safety of the barns. Alix Givet dismounted from her small mare, patting the beast to comfort it. Its dark mane was frozen stiff. She went to her father's side. He was being helped down from his own gelding and could barely stand. "Lean on me, Papa," she said softly.

"I am rigid with the cold," he murmured quietly, and then came the ominous cough that had been worrying her these past weeks. He balanced himself a moment, his hand upon her small shoulder as he began to walk towards the house with his daughter.

Once inside, they were brought to the hall, where a hot fire was burning in the large hearth. The queen was already warming her hands over it, the little prince by her side. The king had been seated in a high-backed chair near the warmth, and there was quickly a goblet of wine in his hand. His eyes were closed, and Alix could see he was shaking ever so slightly.

"Welcome to my home!" Sir Udolf said. "I have instructed my servants to prepare a place for you. Your Highness," he addressed the queen. "My house is not grand, but you shall have the best I can offer you. My own apartment is yours."

"Merci, Sir Udolf," Margaret of Anjou said softly. "Is there to be food soon? The king needs to eat, and then he must be put to bed to rest. This has been a terrible day for him, and he is not well, as you know."

Seeing the expression of distress upon their host's face, Alix spoke up. "Madame, perhaps it would be best if the king were made comfortable first, and a warm supper brought to him," she suggested quietly.

"Ah, ma chérie Alix, that would indeed be best," the queen said, sounding relieved, for she herself had suddenly realized that Sir Udolf's cook would not be ready for guests, Margaret of Anjou went to her husband's side.