A Mortal Bane(91)

“No!” Sabina cried, clinging to her. “God knows what they will do to you.”

Dulcie had grabbed up a candle and scuttled toward the kitchen, where the keys were hung.

“If you hear blows against the gate,” Magdalene said to Sabina, “run to the prior’s house and call for help. Father Benin does not believe us guilty and will send help, I am sure.”

[page]“Quick enough to save you?”

Magdalene did not answer that, but unwound Sabina’s arms from her. Dulcie came running back. Sabina was weeping and shaking. Magdalene was shaking, too, but actually she was already less frightened as she pushed Sabina toward Dulcie. If so large a group of men had come to wreak violence, surely they would have forced the gate by now. But, aside from the continued pealing of the bell, there seemed to be less noise from the street. Then a single stentorian voice called out. With a quick, indrawn breath, Magdalene snatched the key from Dulcie and ran out the door.

“William?” she cried as she reached the gate. “William? Is that you?”

“Of course it is, you stupid slut! Who else would arrive at this time of night with twenty men-at-arms? Let me in! I have been ahorse since Prime.”

Magdalene already had the gate unlocked. As she swung it open, two of the mounted men came down from their horses. One strode through the gate. The other caught the rein of the loose horse and followed, leading the horses behind him. While William of Ypres strode toward the house, the second man led the horses toward the stable. Magdalene saw a third man gesture, and the troop turned their mounts to ride back up the street to the bridge. She closed the gate, relocked it, and ran to catch up to Lord William.

“I am so sorry,” Magdalene gasped as she reached his side. “I was afraid because of the murder.”

“What the shit has that to do with you?” he growled.

“The sacristan of the priory has been accusing us of killing Messer Baldassare. He says because we are whores, we must be murderers, too. I thought he had preached against us before the prior told him not to—or that because the prior had silenced him, he bade someone punish us for our crime.”

His step checked and he put an arm around her, pulling her roughly against him. “Forgot about that, chick. Nothing to fear now. I’m here. I’ll send word to the sheriff and the Watch that the Old Guesthouse is under my protection and I’ll have the ears and skin off anyone who hurts you.”

His mail was biting painfully into Magdalene’s arm and side, but she did not pull away. “Thank you, William,” she said.

He reached out and opened the house door, stepping to the side and shoving her through in front of him. Magdalene could not help smiling. He had just offered her protection but instinctively used her as a shield in case an ambush had been laid for him in her house. Not that he really expected an ambush in her house, but caution was a habit long ingrained in William of Ypres.

“Hello, girls,” he bellowed as he came in behind her, and then, taking in Ella’s and Letice’s half-open gowns over naked bodies, added, “All ready for work, I see.”

Letice wriggled and Ella put her thumb in her mouth. She was overawed by Lord William and never aggressive toward him. Sabina smiled and set her staff against the wall.

“We are very glad to know you are our visitor, Lord William,” she said, having easily recognized his voice and manner. “We were afraid it was someone who did not appreciate our art. Each and all of us are more than willing to entertain you, separately or all together.”

He laughed loudly. “Each and all, separately and together, eh? Well, once I might have been able to take you all, but a hard life has tamed me a little, especially after being in the saddle since dawn. Tonight I will be content with Magdalene. You girls can play with Somer” —he laughed again, even louder— “if he can get it up after riding almost without stopping for four days.”