Free The Cross Legged Knight by Candace Robb Page A

hung from the belt slipped along the leather and she caught it as it was about to fall. She wondered at its heft as she set it down beside his boots and turned to leave. But curiositypulled her back. She drew the leather flap out of the long loop that held it and gently shook the scrip to free the contents, not too far, just a glimpse. A leather band set with large glass beads slipped out. Lucie caught her breath.
    It was Cisotta’s new girdle, but only part of it, the edges charred, crumbling as Lucie touched them. She sank to her knees, running her fingertips over the glass beads.
    Cisotta had been wearing it yesterday. Lucie could see it clearly, on the young midwife’s blue dress.
    Lucie had come through the beaded curtain from the back workshop to find Jasper ducking his head and laughing in the self-conscious manner he had of late when a pretty woman was around. But there seemed to be no one in the shop. ‘Jasper?’
    ‘Lucie?’ Cisotta’s voice had risen from somewhere in front of the counter.
    Jasper had blushed. ‘She is fetching a jar for this.’ He had pennyroyal measured out on a piece of parchment. ‘Her basket is on the floor.’
    A brightly veiled head rose then, blue eyes, blonde hair in braided rolls on either side of a lovely face. Cisotta’s gown matched her eyes and the beaded girdle called attention to her narrow waist, how the gown was cut to cling at her hips. The effect had not been lost on Jasper. Lucie had mixed feelings about her presence. Though thankful for the care Cisotta had given her, seeing her touched wounds still raw. She had felt ungrateful – after all, the midwife had baptized her stillborn child.
    Cisotta stood with jars in hand, studying Lucie. ‘You still lack some spark. Is the Riverwoman satisfied with your improvement?’
    ‘She does not say.’
    ‘Then she is not. Jasper might help you more. And Dame Phillippa.’ She set the jars on the counter.
    ‘You have been a stranger,’ Lucie had said. ‘I thought you might have deserted us for another apothecary.’
    Cisotta’s face had dimpled in a brief smile. ‘I should be a fool to do so, my friend.’ She glanced behind, checked that they were indeed alone. ‘I have been busy trying to feed my family, spreading the word among women about the births I have attended, particularly among merchant’s wives – they pay the best.’
    Lucie had heard why Cisotta needed work. The cordwainers were angry with her husband, Eudo, for making shoes of tawyed leather for a neighbour. He had been reprimanded by his guild and had lost the business of most of the guilds in the city, a loss he could not afford, for he offended so many who came into the shop with his silence, rarely sparing a moment for a civil word, that many left without buying. Cisotta complained of it often.
    It was not Magda’s custom to gossip, but she distrusted Cisotta, saying she did not have the soul of a healer. Though she had been relieved to see Cisotta at Lucie’s bedside when she returned from the countryside and heard of the fall, the miscarriage, she had lost no time in sending the younger woman on her way. ‘She depends too much on charms,’ Magda had said.
    But Cisotta had been good to Lucie, so she had tried to comfort her. ‘Eudo is skilled with hides. The glovers will return to him when the tawyed leather they buy elsewhere stretches and tears as they work it.’
    ‘You are kind to say so.’ Cisotta crouched to place the filled jars in her basket.
    ‘I could carry that for you,’ Jasper had said.
    ‘Stay here to help your mistress. My daughter is sitting without, we shall share the handle.’
    Lucie had wondered about that. Eight-year-old Anna was a wraithlike child who had been racked by illnesses from birth.
    ‘Eudo is so harsh with her,’ Cisotta had said as she lifted the basket, leaning back a little to cope with the weight. ‘He calls her lazy, expects her to fetch and carry. He needs another apprentice, but he has no one to