The WHITE HIND

Matilda feared that the magical creature in the woods was in mortal danger

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Christmastide, 1306

As the steward's huge black horse reared above her, its nostrils flaring as it snorted fiercely, Matilda froze in terror.

Suddenly, Edward leapt with uncanny speed to seize Matilda around the waist, sweeping her from under the flailing hooves, which crashed down with a sickening thud on the very spot where she had stood.

Matilda was safe, but the steward lost his balance in the saddle and tumbled from his seat, crashing in an ungainly heap on the icy ground. Rolling into a ball, he tried to evade his horse's hooves as it sensed freedom and wheeled around to make a run for it.

Matilda felt a terrible, hysterical impulse to laugh aloud at the sight of the arrogant man squirming in the dirt, but knew better than to give way to it.

At that moment Biddy strode forward, pushing both her and Edward aside. She seized the horse's bridle and calmed it straight away with a crab apple from her apron pocket.

'Why, thank you, Goodwife,' said Julian, whose horse was also capering restively. 'Your level head has prevented a more serious mishap than my foolish steward taking a fall.' His admiring glance fell on Matilda's flushed face and tumbling hair. 'I would not have had this beautiful girl injured.'

Biddy gave him one swift glance and curtseyed silently, before ushering the two youngsters into the back of the cart, with an extra shove for Edward, who was still bristling with anger at the young nobleman's insulting manner. She climbed up to the driving seat next to Edward's father, Robert.

'Sir, I beg pardon for any trouble we have caused you on your journey,' she said, addressing Julian. 'Robert, move the cart on to the roadside, so the gentlemen may pass more freely.'