“The
“Why not feed his lascivious imagination?” thought Francesca. Explaining anything different would be complicated. So she winked at the captain.
“You’re too old for a man like him,” the soldier laughed.
Francesca did not give way.
“Bring him to me and you won’t regret it.”
“Where? Here?”
What if Aledis had been lying? But Francesca’s first impressions had never let her down.
“No, not here.”
ALEDIS WALKED A few steps away from the tent. It was a beautiful warm and starry night, with a big yellow moon lighting the darkest corners. She looked up at the sky, and then at the men who went into the tent and emerged soon afterward on the arm of one or another of the girls. They would head for some small huts in the distance, and then a short while later reappear, sometimes laughing, sometimes in silence. The same scene was repeated time and again. Each time, the prostitutes headed for the tub where Aledis had bathed, and washed their private parts in the water, staring at her brazenly as they did so. It reminded Aledis of the woman her mother had once told her she should not step aside for.
“Why don’t they arrest her?” Aledis had asked her mother on that occasion.
Eulalia had looked down at her daughter, calculating whether she was of an age to receive a proper explanation.
“She can’t be arrested,” she told her. “The king and the Church allow them to ply their trade.”
Aledis looked up at her in disbelief.
“Yes, daughter, that’s right. The Church says that fallen women should not be punished by earthly laws, because divine law will do so.” How was she to explain to a child that the real reason for the Church being so lenient was to prevent adultery or unnatural relationships? Eulalia observed her daughter again. No, she was not old enough to understand about unnatural relationships.
Antonia, the girl with the golden curls, smiled at her from beside the tub. Aledis pursed her lips in response, but went no further.
What else had her mother told her? she wondered, trying to take her mind off what she was seeing. That prostitutes could not live in any village, town, or city where honest citizens lived, under threat of being thrown out of their own homes if their neighbors so demanded. That they were obliged to listen to religious sermons aimed at rehabilitating them. That they could visit public baths only on Mondays and Fridays, the days reserved for Jews and Saracens. And that they could use their money for works of charity, but never for any holy oblation.
Standing next to the tub, Antonia was holding her skirt up with one hand while she washed herself with the other. And she was still smiling! Every time she bent to scoop up water, she looked at Aledis and smiled. Aledis did her best to respond, and tried not to let her gaze wander downward toward Antonia’s groin, clearly visible in the moonlight.
Why was the girl smiling at her? She was no more than a girl, but already she was condemned. A few years earlier, just after her father had refused to allow her to be betrothed to Arnau, her mother had taken Aledis and her sister Alesta to the San Pedro convent in Barcelona. “Let them see it,” had been the tanner’s terse command. The convent atrium was full of doors that had been torn off their hinges and left leaning against the convent arches or thrown on the ground. King Pedro had given the abbess of San Pedro the sole authority to order all the prostitutes out of her parish, and then to tear the doors off their dwellings and bring them all to be displayed at the convent. The abbess had been more than happy to oblige!
“Have all these people been forced out of their homes?” Aledis had asked, flapping her hand at the sight and remembering what had happened to her own family before they had rented a room with Pere and Mariona: their front door had also been torn off because they had been unable to pay their taxes.
“No, daughter,” her mother had replied. “This is what happens to women who abandon chastity.”
Aledis could vividly remember that moment, and the way her mother had narrowed her eyes and peered at her.
Aledis shook her head to rid it of that painful memory. She found herself staring once more at Antonia and her exposed pubis, where the hairs were as blond and curly as the hair on her head. What would the abbess of San Pedro do with someone like Antonia?
Francesca came out of her tent, looking for Antonia. “Come here, girl!” she shouted at her. Aledis watched as Antonia skipped away from the tub, pulling up her hose, and ran into the tent. Then her gaze met that of Francesca, before the older woman turned back into the tent. Why was she looking at her like that?
ElXIMEN D’ESPARCA, KING Pedro the Third’s shield bearer, was an important person. In fact, his position was more impressive than his physique, because the moment he dismounted from his huge warhorse and took off his armor, he was merely a short, skinny-looking fellow. A weak man, thought Arnau, hoping the nobleman could not read his mind.
Eiximen d’Esparca commanded a company of Almogavars that he paid for out of his own purse. Whenever he surveyed them, he began to worry. Where did those mercenaries’ loyalty really lie? To whoever paid them, that was all. That was why he liked to surround himself with a praetorian guard, and explained why he had been so impressed by Arnau.
“What weapons are you skilled in?” the noble’s captain had asked Arnau. The
Arnau shook his head.
“What about that knife?” The officer pointed to the weapon Arnau was wearing tucked into his belt, but when
