They had walked all over the city, delighted at the new identity that being dressed as orphans ... and virgins ... had lent them. They had never before enjoyed such freedom, because according to the law, they always had to wear bright silks and colors to show everyone that they were prostitutes. “Shall we go in?” suggested Teresa, surreptitiously pointing to the doorway of San Jaume. She said it in a whisper, as though afraid lest the very idea arouse the ire of the whole of Barcelona. But nothing happened. The faithful inside the church paid them no attention, nor did the priest, whom they avoided looking at, pressing closer to each other as he went by.
Chattering and laughing, they went down Calle Boqueria toward the sea. If they had gone in the opposite direction, up Calle del Bisbe to Plaza Nova, they would have run into Aledis. She was standing outside the bishop’s palace, trying to recognize Arnau or Francesca in the shadows behind the stained-glass windows. She did not even know which one concealed the chamber where Arnau was being tried! Had Francesca been called to testify yet? Joan did not know anything about her. Aledis peered at window after window. She must have been, but what use was it knowing that, if Aledis could not do anything for her? Arnau was strong, and Francesca ... They did not know what she was like.
“What are you doing standing there?” Aledis turned and saw one of the soldiers of the Inquisition next to her. She had not seen him arrive. “What are you looking at so closely?”
Aledis ducked down and fled without a word. “You don’t know Francesca,” she thought as she ran away. “None of your tortures will be able to make her give away the secret she has kept hidden all her life.”
Before Aledis arrived back at the inn, Joan had appeared. He was wearing a clean habit borrowed from the Sant Pere de les Puelles monastery. When he saw Guillem sitting with Mar and Aledis’s two daughters, he came to a halt in the center of the dining room.
Guillem studied him. Was that a smile, or a look of distaste?
Joan himself would not have been able to say. What if Mar had told him about the kidnapping?
The way the friar had treated him when he was with Arnau flashed through Guillem’s mind, but this was no time to relive old quarrels, so he stood up to greet the newcomer. They all needed to unite to come to Arnau’s aid.
“How are you, Joan?” he asked, taking him by the shoulders. “What happened to your face?” he added, when he saw all the bruises.
Joan looked over at Mar, but her face held the same harsh, emotionless expression he had seen on it ever since he had gone in search of her. But no, Guillem could not be so cynical ...
“An unfortunate encounter,” said Joan. “It happens to friars as well.”
“I suppose you will have already excommunicated them,” joked Guillem as he led the friar over to the table. “Isn’t that what the Constitution of Peace and Truce establishes?” Joan and Mar exchanged glances. “Isn’t that what it says: ‘Anyone who disturbs the peace against unarmed priests’ ... You weren’t armed, were you, Joan?”
Guillem did not have the chance to notice how strained the relationship was between Mar and the friar, because at that moment Aledis came in. Guillem greeted her briefly; it was Joan he wanted to talk to.
“You’re an inquisitor,” he said. “What do you make of Arnau’s situation?”
“I think Nicolau wants to find him guilty, but he cannot have much against him. I think it may end with him having to wear the cloak of repentance and paying a hefty fine—that’s what most interests Eimerich. I know Arnau: he has never harmed anyone. Even if Eleonor has denounced him, they won’t be able to find—”
“What if Eleonor’s accusation were backed up by several priests?”
Joan looked startled. Would priests stoop to that kind of thing? “What do you mean?”
“That doesn’t matter,” said Guillem, remembering Jucef’s letter. “Tell me, though: what would happen if priests backed her up?”
Aledis did not hear Joan’s reply. Should she tell them what she knew? Could that Moor possibly help? He was rich ... and he looked ... Eulalia and Teresa were watching her. They had stayed silent as she had instructed them, but it seemed as though they were anxious to say something now. She had no need to ask them; she could see what they wanted. That meant ... Oh, what did it matter? Somebody had to do something, and that Moor ...
“There is quite a lot more,” she said, interrupting Joan’s conjectures as to what might happen.
The two men and Mar all turned their attention to her.
“I have no intention of telling you how I found out, and I have no wish to talk about this again once I have said what I have to say. Do you agree?”
“What do you mean?” asked Joan.
“It’s perfectly clear, Friar,” snapped Mar.
Guillem looked at her with surprise: why did she speak to Joan like that? He turned to the friar, but he was staring at the floor.
“Go on, Aledis. We agree,” said Guillem.
“Do you remember the two noblemen who are staying at the inn?”
When he heard the name Genis Puig, Guillem butted in and stopped her.
“He has a sister called Margarida,” Aledis told him.
Guillem raised his hands to his face. “Are they still here?” he asked.
Aledis nodded, and continued telling them what her girls had discovered ; the favors Eulalia had granted Genis Puig had not been in vain. Once he had exhausted his drunken passion on her, he had been more than happy to tell her of all the charges Arnau was facing.
“They say Arnau burned his father’s body ... ,” said Aledis, “but I can’t believe ...”
Joan was about to retch. All the others turned toward him. The friar had his hand over his mouth, as though he were choking. The darkness, Bernat’s body hanging from the makeshift scaffold, the flames ...
