Free Forsaken Soul by Priscilla Royal Page A

for the chaste and sequestered life, but that does not mean we are less mortal than you or do not suffer from human error. The world is no stranger to us and even less to Sister Anne who was an apothecary with her husband before she joined the Order.”
    Ivetta tossed her head in the maid’s direction.
    Eleanor nodded. “You may go, Gytha. Should we need anything more, I will send for you.”
    When the young woman had closed the door, Ivetta drained her cup again. “Martin said he had a night’s work for me, my lady. This was always done in the same room at the inn. When I arrived, he was already there.”
    “Did you contract with the innkeeper for the room or did Martin?” The prioress sipped her wine.
    “Martin did.”
    “Were you to serve him or others that night?”
    “I never knew. He always collected the price first so I was not surprised to see him.”
    “Was there anything different about the arrangements last night?”
    “Not that I knew.”
    “Had the food and wine been brought up before you arrived?” Anne asked.
    “No.” Ivetta turned away. “If a man wanted refreshment, he was told to sup with the others downstairs after my allotted time was done.”
    “Yet there was food and drink that night…”
    “When Martin wanted me for himself, or with special friends, he always ate before we bedded. There was a game we often played when we were alone, you see. I pretended to be a beggar woman…do you want those details?”
    “Perhaps you need only say if you shared either food or drink after it had arrived that night,” Anne replied with a hint of amusement in her eyes.
    “I did not have the chance. I never ate until I had sated his other needs and he had fallen asleep. That was part of our game.”
    “And in this way your life may have been saved,” Eleanor said, her expression growing solemn. “So you came up to the room. Martin was waiting for you, but the food and wine had not been served. He was by himself…”
    “He was not alone, my lady.”
    “If refreshment was ordered, then they were friends rather than strangers staying at the inn?”
    “Friends. Hob and Will, the blacksmith brothers. Many times in the past he has shared me with the elder if there were no others in need of my service.”
    “Was that the arrangement for the night?” Anne asked, glancing at Eleanor. No mention had been made of the blacksmith and his brother.
    “I assumed as much when I first arrived, but the three were arguing.”
    “What was the dispute?”
    “Martin was ridiculing Will’s manhood.”
    “And Hob’s as well?”
    “Nay, only Will’s. His sex had become a cowardly thing on the tilting grounds, as I have oft discovered.” Ivetta snorted. “As for Hob, he has spurned my talents for a long time. For all I know, the heat of the smithy did melt his rod as well.”
    Eleanor coughed to hide her mirth.
    “You say the
three
were arguing?” Anne asked.
    “When I walked into the room, I heard Martin tell Will that he should dress in women’s attire because his sex was no bigger than…” Ivetta shrugged. “Will’s face was scarlet and he tried to strike out but tripped. Methinks he had drunk too much ale already. Then Hob swung at Martin. I did not want to get hurt so I backed out of the room.”
    “Did Martin often insult Will in this manner?” Eleanor asked.
    “Often enough.”
    “Did you shut the door when you left?” Anne continued.
    “I might have done, but the tavern wench arrived just then with a jug and plate. I stood aside to let her enter, and she shut the door behind her.”
    “Which woman served?”
    “Signy,” Ivetta replied, then spat.
    Anne raised an eyebrow at the prioress.
    “Did Hob and Will stay in the room with her?” Eleanor continued.
    “For a short time. When she shut the door, the men stopped yelling.” Ivetta hesitated. “One must have felt her up because I heard her screeching. Then Hob threw open the door and dragged his brother out by the collar. They