A Mortal Bane(116)

While he was gone, Magdalene managed to saddle the unconscious man’s destrier—with a peace offering of a rather dried and wrinkled apple. She and Ella were struggling to raise the rolled hauberk to the back of the saddle when Bell came back, divested of his armor and wearing a nondescript padded-leather jerkin over a heavy shirt.

He made nothing of lifting the armor, fastening the straps to hold the rolled mail while Magdalene ran back into the house to get the man’s sword and scabbard, which she had almost forgotten, and check for anything else left behind. There was only a cloak, fallen behind a stool onto the floor when the women got his clothing. She snatched her own cloak and veil as well and ran back.

When she returned, Bell had pulled the blanket off the man and hoisted the unresisting body to his shoulder. Magdalene hurried over and threw the cloak across the limp form, lifting the hood to conceal the blindfold and gag and picking up the blanket.

As she seized the horse’s reins with the clear intention of following, Bell protested, but she only said sharply that he should not be a fool. She was his pass to William’s presence, which was not easy of access to just anyone.

[page]Angrily, Bell tumbled the body into the waiting cart and tossed the blanket, which Magdalene handed him, over the man, who uttered a loud groan. Magdalene sighed with relief; she had been afraid he had been stunned too thoroughly. Bell turned, took the horse’s rein from her, and tied it to the end of the cart.

Bell glared at her as he mounted to the bench but said nothing the curious mercer and grocer from across the street, who were both out serving customers, should not hear. Then, grudgingly, he gave Magdalene a hand up. When she was settled, he clicked to the sturdy mule and the cart moved forward. A thump came from the back of the cart. Magdalene jumped. Bell only looked over his shoulder to make sure that the back of the cart was well fastened.

When they got onto the bridge, however, he turned his head and shouted, “You lie quiet under that blanket or I will take a strap to both of you. Only reason I didn’t take the hide off you yet was that your mother wouldn’t let me.”

With the sun near setting, the bridge was quieter than usual and Bell’s voice carried. A few of the merchants and their customers looked around, saw the good cart and handsome mule, the decently dressed man and carefully veiled woman, and laughed, imagining the mischief a pair of naughty children could get into. Magdalene leaned closer to him and spoke in a low voice as if pleading the children’s cause, but actually she was telling him to turn right on Thames Street, that William was lodging within the walls of the Tower of London.

At the gate of the inner bailey of the Tower, Magdalene gave her name, said she had a delivery for William of Ypres, and asked for Somer de Loo. After a coin had exchanged hands, a messenger was sent and eventually Somer de Loo arrived. He looked at the heaving, mumbling blanket, at Bell, then at Magdalene, and insisted she take off her veil, his hand on his sword hilt. However, once he had made sure it was indeed she, he gestured for them to drive in.

“What the devil are you doing here, Magdalene?” he asked when they were clear of the gate. “What delivery? And who the devil is this?”

“This gentleman is the Bishop of Winchester’s knight, Sir Bellamy of Itchen,” she said, “and he was kind enough to help me when the man in the cart hit Sabina and threatened to disfigure me.”

Somer frowned up at her as the cart trundled across the bailey, not toward the great bulk of the White Tower itself, but toward the king’s palace, around which were grouped several houses that were occupied by the great nobles when the king held court in London. They headed toward the last of those, one closest to the entrance to one of the wall towers, servants and retainers on various duties or on their own business making way as they passed.