Schlitz provides background on the Crusades, which were fought between 1095 and 1272 and were waged to determine who would control key land in the Middle East, particularly Jerusalem. Because Christian pilgrims to the city were met with intolerance by Muslim inhabitants, Pope Urban II announced that volunteers were needed to “free” the city from “Saracen” (Muslim) control. Thousands of people, many of whom were untrained, wanted to go on crusade, and because the religious aim of the Crusades was considered to be so important, even villeins (feudal tenants subject to a lord’s rule) were allowed to go despite their obligations to their lords. Schlitz emphasizes that equipping the crusades with men, armor, and horses proved to be ruinously expensive, and these wars were often fueled by political and personal motives of great complexity.

Edgar, the falconer’s son, speaks to his sparrowhawk. Although the bird technically belongs to Simon, the lord’s son, Edgar is the one who trained it and remains close with it. Edgar reflects on the bankruptcy of the estate, lamenting the fact that all of the other birds have been sold off.

With Simon leaving to become a monk, Edgar plans to free the bird. He remembers taking the bird from its nest two years earlier, treating it as his “captive” and his “child” (39). He remembers training and caring for the bird during many sleepless nights.

Edgar plans to free the bird at dawn, though doing so will break his heart. He says that he learned bravery from the bird, and he accepts the possibility of being punished for his actions.

This interlude explains that falconry was a medieval sport practiced by the upper class. While it involved hunting for meat, it was also a way to show off one’s wealth, because the falcons were very expensive. Schlitz notes that “it took time and infinite patience to train a bird for hunting” (40), and such birds required carefully made leather hoods and other garments. In Edgar’s story, because the bird is valuable and belongs to the lord, it is possible that Edgar could suffer a severe punishment for setting it free.

Isobel thinks about a stain on her gown and her fruitless attempts to remove it. She is worried that her father will be angry to learn that her garment has been spoiled, but she insists that she is not at fault. She recalls that she was walking through town when someone threw a clod of dung at her. She saw a group of boys laughing, but because she didn’t see which of them had thrown it, she didn’t tell her father about this detail; she didn’t want all of them to be beaten when only one deserved to be punished.

Isobel wonders why the boys hate her. Though her servant tells her not to worry about the incident, she is unable to forget their laughter. She resolves that she will never again walk with her eyes cast down.

Barbary opens her narrative by asserting that she “shouldn’t have done it” and “knew it was wrong / when the muck left my hand” (45). Her narrative then shifts back a bit further in time, and she recalls that on that day, she was about to go buy fish when her stepmother instructed her to take the twins with her. Barbary questioned this request, as it would be very difficult to do the shopping with the young children in tow, but her stepmother burst into tears, said she wanted them out of the house, and announced that there would be more babies in six months, at Christmas.

Barbary was aghast at the idea of more children because the twins are already so disruptive and messy. Her stepmother started to cry, and Barbary mused that “birthing the twins near killed her” (46). She then left the cottage with the twins. While struggling to shop and manage them both, one twin soiled itself on her. Suddenly, Barbary spotted Isobel and admired her appearance. Then, on a sudden impulse, she threw a handful of mud at her.

Barbary immediately felt guilty because Isobel “hadn’t done anything to [her]” (46). A group of boys laughed, and Barbary realized that Isobel had seen them and had assumed that they were at fault. Guiltily, she went to the church to pray for forgiveness. Now, she thinks about the fact that, regardless of wealth, all women suffer in childbirth. Barbary’s narrative concludes with her remembering her stepmother’s pregnancy and praying, “Don’t let it be twins” (49).

A Jewish boy named Jacob goes to the stream to collect water because he must avoid the well in town; the Jewish community has been blamed for poisoning it. He sees Petronella, the merchant’s daughter, across the river. Meanwhile, she thinks about having been sent for watercress, when she sees Jacob. She picks up a stone, recalling that how she and her brother “always throw stones at Jews” (53). She notices Jacob watching her with the stone and wonders why he doesn’t run. Jacob reflects that “a girl’s aim / isn’t much” and that he doesn’t intend to flinch.

Petronella thinks that she is glad not to be a man because she wouldn’t be able to bear hunting. She skips the stone harmlessly over the water rather than throwing it at Jacob. Then the two play together, skipping stones and laughing. They each realize that the other is different from what they expected.

The bell tolls, which reminds both Petronella and Jacob of what they are doing and that they need to leave. They both decide to keep this interaction a secret.

Schlitz describes the difficulty of life for Jewish people in medieval society, explaining that they were generally not allowed to own land and couldn’t participate in farming. The moneylending profession was a common one for Jewish people during this time, but they had to keep interest rates high to protect themselves against the prospect of not being paid back or of being taken to court over the matter. Jewish communities were often accused of crimes that they did not commit, and the lord of a manor was allowed to accuse all Jewish people, collectively, of a given crime.