A Mortal Bane(30)

[page]“Oh. Well, I suppose even if it had been nice, you could not take anything left on the church porch. It would belong to the monks.”

“Out of the mouths of babes,” Magdalene said. “Perhaps what was on the porch did rightfully belong to the monks. Anyway, I think we should try to find out if it was because it did belong to the monks that the sacristan tried to put the blame for it on us. Did you recognize the voice, love?”

“Of course, how could I fail?” Sabina replied. “It is one we hear far too often—just who you said, the sacristan.”

“The sacristan was at the door of the north porch that night? But seeing that all are gone is the porter’s duty.”

“Nonetheless, Brother Paulinus was there. I heard him call out, and something fall, and footsteps running away, and then, a little later, the door close.”

Letice tapped her knife hilt on the table. Magdalene turned to look at her. Letice shook her head vigorously, made the signs for hushing and then for forgetting.

“Letice thinks we should stop talking about this and forget the whole thing,” Magdalene said so Sabina would know. Then she sighed. “In a way, I wish we could—that is, I wish it had never happened. Certainly we had nothing to do with it, but I do not think we will be allowed to forget it.”

“Were we supposed to remember something?” Ella asked, putting down the piece of cold meat she had been about to put in her mouth and looking distressed.

“No, dearling,” Sabina said. “We are supposed to forget it, so you have done exactly what is right. Pay us no mind.”

When something did stick in Ella’s mind, however, it niggled at her and she would talk about it, so her comment implied a danger. Ordinarily, like a child, she ignored the talk of the other women, which she found dull and incomprehensible. This time something had caught her attention, possibly Sabina’s saying she had found something, and she was listening. With unspoken agreement, talk on the subject of the murder was suspended until breakfast was over. Then, as a treat, Ella was allowed to go with Dulcie to the market.

When she was gone, the other women breathed a sigh of relief. Letice and Magdalene took up their embroidery and Sabina sat beside them, but she did not strike the lute she held in her lap.

“It is wrong!” she said, softly but forcibly. “I liked Messer Baldassare. He was gentle and merry. What happened to him was evil.” Tears oozed out at the corners of her sealed eyes and she raised a hand to wipe them away. “It is not fair that he should not be avenged, and if Brother Paulinus has his way, we will suffer and the true evildoer go scot-free.”

“That is certainly his intention,” Magdalene replied. “Remember he said he would get us hanged. We can swear and swear that Messer Baldassare was never here, but we are whores. Who will believe us? And what if someone in the street saw him ring the bell? Worse, we stood talking for several minutes at the gate before he came in. That could have been noticed, or someone could have seen him leading in his horse. We must do something to save ourselves.”

“The horse coming in is a common enough occurrence,” Sabina said. “William of Ypres and his men always bring their horses, as do some of the North London merchants. None of our neighbors would think someone leading in a horse to be strange enough to mention.”

“Not to mention on their own, but if asked? If Paulinus sends one of the lay brothers to accuse us of murder and to ask if anyone saw the victim with a horse enter our gate?”

Letice sniffed and made an ugly face, poking her finger against her cheeks and forehead.