Read Online Bone of Contention by Roberta Gellis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Roberta Gellis
Tags: Medieval Mystery
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kinds.”
Magdalene’s face lit with hope. “Oh, let me see. If the room is suitable and I can be assured that no one else will have it for the week I am here…”
They got out of the bed and Florete led the way to the back of the corridor. The heavy door was suitable to protect the back way into a house. However, instead of opening on a lane or a yard, the door opened into a long, narrow, but surprisingly pleasant room. To the left was a large bed with curtains looped back. Past them, Magdalene could see a small hearth in the corner and an open window, large enough to let in light and air but well barred against intrusion. The room had other windows, all barred, two in the back wall and another in the wall to the right. A second bed stood against the right-hand wall.
In addition to the beds, there was a chest under the window in the left wall, a single, high-backed chair with arms, and perhaps half a dozen stools arranged around the room. A tall candlestick with a thick, very white candle stood beside each bed, and brackets for torchettes were fixed to each wall. One could have, Magdalene could see, as much or as little light as one chose.
“How much?” Magdalene asked eagerly.
“A shilling a week,” Florete replied, then bit her lip as Magdalene merely looked surprised without answering. “I wish I could offer it for nothing or ask less, but—”
“Less?” Magdalene exclaimed, “But you are asking far too little already. You must make double that by renting the room by the day or night in ordinary times, and you could make double or triple that while the city is so crowded.”
Florete grimaced. “Yes, if I wanted a troop of men-at-arms in here. Can you imagine the havoc they would wreak with my women and my business? My boys are good boys, but they could not manage a troop of armed men. That is why the room is empty.” She seemed to hear what she had said and closed her eyes and sighed. “Sorry,” she muttered. “You can have it for nothing, Magdalene. I am growing so hard that even what I owe you grows dim in my mind.”
“And so it should,” Magdalene said, putting an arm around the woman. “You owe me nothing for a simple act of Christian charity. And even if there were a debt, it is not the kind that can be paid for in coin.”
“I know it.” Florete put her cheek against Magdalene’s hand, which lay on her shoulder. “It was my life you gave back to me when you picked me out of the gutter—”
“Perhaps,” Magdalene interrupted sharply, “but that has nothing to do with a fair rent for your room.” She gave Florete a brief hug and released her with a laugh. “Likely I will not be paying for it anyway. I am reasonably sure William will make good.” She looked around the room again. “Three shillings for a day and night is fair… Yes, I will give you a pound for the whole week. That would be more than your regular fee, but for this time it is not unreasonable.”
Florete blinked back tears. “You have not changed. You could have taken my offer and told your William that the price was a pound for the week. He would never have known—” She stopped, catching her breath a little at the horror on Magdalene’s face.
“Never! I would never tell William a lie, not a small one about money or a large one in which my life hung in the balance.” She shivered.
Florete stared at her then shook her head. “Your life must get very complicated if there are two men to whom you are pledged.”
“Why?” Magdalene laughed. “I never said I wouldn’t tell Bell a lie. I tell him what it is best for him to know.” She sobered. “And I do not tell William more than he needs to know either. I simply never tell him a lie.”
Chapter 4
19 June,
The Soft Nest, Oxford
With the most urgent problem of lodging settled, Magdalene asked Florete for a messenger. She produced a reasonably clean, nice-looking boy of about twelve, left on her hands by one of the whores who had died.
Magdalene’s face lit with hope. “Oh, let me see. If the room is suitable and I can be assured that no one else will have it for the week I am here…”
They got out of the bed and Florete led the way to the back of the corridor. The heavy door was suitable to protect the back way into a house. However, instead of opening on a lane or a yard, the door opened into a long, narrow, but surprisingly pleasant room. To the left was a large bed with curtains looped back. Past them, Magdalene could see a small hearth in the corner and an open window, large enough to let in light and air but well barred against intrusion. The room had other windows, all barred, two in the back wall and another in the wall to the right. A second bed stood against the right-hand wall.
In addition to the beds, there was a chest under the window in the left wall, a single, high-backed chair with arms, and perhaps half a dozen stools arranged around the room. A tall candlestick with a thick, very white candle stood beside each bed, and brackets for torchettes were fixed to each wall. One could have, Magdalene could see, as much or as little light as one chose.
“How much?” Magdalene asked eagerly.
“A shilling a week,” Florete replied, then bit her lip as Magdalene merely looked surprised without answering. “I wish I could offer it for nothing or ask less, but—”
“Less?” Magdalene exclaimed, “But you are asking far too little already. You must make double that by renting the room by the day or night in ordinary times, and you could make double or triple that while the city is so crowded.”
Florete grimaced. “Yes, if I wanted a troop of men-at-arms in here. Can you imagine the havoc they would wreak with my women and my business? My boys are good boys, but they could not manage a troop of armed men. That is why the room is empty.” She seemed to hear what she had said and closed her eyes and sighed. “Sorry,” she muttered. “You can have it for nothing, Magdalene. I am growing so hard that even what I owe you grows dim in my mind.”
“And so it should,” Magdalene said, putting an arm around the woman. “You owe me nothing for a simple act of Christian charity. And even if there were a debt, it is not the kind that can be paid for in coin.”
“I know it.” Florete put her cheek against Magdalene’s hand, which lay on her shoulder. “It was my life you gave back to me when you picked me out of the gutter—”
“Perhaps,” Magdalene interrupted sharply, “but that has nothing to do with a fair rent for your room.” She gave Florete a brief hug and released her with a laugh. “Likely I will not be paying for it anyway. I am reasonably sure William will make good.” She looked around the room again. “Three shillings for a day and night is fair… Yes, I will give you a pound for the whole week. That would be more than your regular fee, but for this time it is not unreasonable.”
Florete blinked back tears. “You have not changed. You could have taken my offer and told your William that the price was a pound for the week. He would never have known—” She stopped, catching her breath a little at the horror on Magdalene’s face.
“Never! I would never tell William a lie, not a small one about money or a large one in which my life hung in the balance.” She shivered.
Florete stared at her then shook her head. “Your life must get very complicated if there are two men to whom you are pledged.”
“Why?” Magdalene laughed. “I never said I wouldn’t tell Bell a lie. I tell him what it is best for him to know.” She sobered. “And I do not tell William more than he needs to know either. I simply never tell him a lie.”
Chapter 4
19 June,
The Soft Nest, Oxford
With the most urgent problem of lodging settled, Magdalene asked Florete for a messenger. She produced a reasonably clean, nice-looking boy of about twelve, left on her hands by one of the whores who had died.
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