A Mortal Bane(90)

All of Sunday was usually quiet; Magdalene took no regular appointments. That made a good impression on clients with uneasy consciences, and actually, she lost very little. Between the time taken by attending religious observances and that given to family obligations, and the reluctance of most men to stain a soul newly cleansed by going to confession and hearing several Masses, few clients wished to visit a whorehouse on Sunday.

The women, even Ella, were glad of a day free of men. They had time for long, lingering baths, for mending garments damaged by too-eager clients, for examining their clothing and underclothing, their ribbons and laces, and deciding whether they wished to go to the East Chepe market the coming week. All had money in plenty, since Magdalene paid them the very generous fee of ten pence a week each, all found; the brothel absorbed the cost of rent and food.

To Magdalene’s relief, this Sunday was no exception. The women cleaned and mended, talked about their clothing, told each other tidbits of news and gossip suppressed during the week by the press of work or fatigue. This Sunday, as she sometimes did, Letice spent the afternoon with her countryfolk. Magdalene did not think she plied her trade among them, but she never asked. The farthings those poor folk could pay meant nothing to her—and likely nothing to Letice, if she took money from them at all. She came back in good time for the evening meal.

Ella and Letice had already gone to bed, and Sabina had just handed her emptied wine cup to Dulcie when the sounds of horses’ hooves and men’s shouting came over the wall and through the shuttered windows. Although Sabina and Magdalene turned their heads toward the noise, neither was troubled. Parties of men did come over the bridge, even at night. But this time the sounds did not rise to a crescendo and die away. They rose and increased, as if the men were milling around near the Old Priory Guesthouse gate. Sabina rose slowly to her feet, her face white.

“They are not going away,” she whispered, stretching a hand to feel for her staff.

Magdalene also got to her feet. She caught Sabina’s hand and held it tight. “Perhaps they only—

“There are too many,” Sabina breathed. “They cannot have come for our services. It is my fault. Because I found the dead man!”

The bell rang. “Do not be silly, Sabina,” Magdalene managed to say between stiff lips. “No one knows of that but the bishop and his knight. And they believe us innocent.”

The bell rang again. Sabina clutched at Magdalene. “Do not go out,” she whispered. “We can bar the door.”

The bell rang yet again, more insistently. Several men shouted. Dulcie, now aware of the fear Magdalene and Sabina were displaying, asked, “What’s wrong?”

“A large party of mounted men are at the gate. Far too many for us to serve. Could the sacristan have….”

Magdalene stopped and took a deep breath. It was useless to add to Sabina’s terror, but she could not forget how near madness the sacristan seemed to be the previous day. Could the prior’s order that he not accuse her and her women without proof have driven him over the edge? Could he deliberately have spread the tale that they were guilty of murder and being protected because of what they paid in silver and service? Could he have urged some too-righteous folk to exact justice on their own?

Peal after peal now came from the bell, as if whoever was pulling the cord was determined to continue until someone answered. Magdalene swallowed hard.

“Oh, Lord. They will waken everyone on the street,” she murmured. “The bishop will get complaints about us.” Then she bit her lip and took a deep breath and said loudly, “Dulcie, get me the key and come with me. Let us put the bar across the gate. I will unlock it. Then you take the key and go with Sabina, Letice, and Ella to the back gate. Unlock it and go into the priory grounds. I will see if I can calm—