Free Fools' Gold by Philippa Gregory

belong anywhere. I have neither father nor mother nor home.’
    ‘Or perhaps you are free,’ he said quietly.
    It was so novel a thought that she said nothing in reply.
    He smiled. ‘To belong somewhere is always to owe something: a debt of loyalty, your work or your time, your love or your taxes. You are an unusual young woman if you do not belong to a man nor to a place. You are not commanded by a master or a father or a husband. That means you are free to choose where you live. That makes you free to choose how you live.’
    ‘I am . . .’ Ishraq stammered. ‘It is true. I am free.’
    He raised a finger. ‘So make sure you choose rightly, my daughter. Make sure that you walk in the way of God. You are free to live freely inside His holy laws.’
    He turned to Freize with a gentle smile. ‘And you, my son in Christ?’
    ‘Oh, I’m of no interest to anyone,’ Freize said cheerfully. ‘First a kitchen boy in a monastery, now a servant to a young master, never enough money, always hungry, always happy. Don’t you worry about me.’
    ‘You attend church?’ the father prompted.
    ‘Yes, of course, Father,’ Freize agreed, feeling a tinge of guilt that though he regularly attended, he seldom listened.
    ‘Then walk in God’s holy ways,’ the Father urged him. ‘And make sure that you give to the poor, not to gamblers.’
    Ishraq raised her eyebrows, surprised that the priest had seen them gambling with the cups and ball game. ‘Are they always there?’ she asked.
    ‘Every day, and God knows how many piccoli they collect from the foolish and the spendthrift,’ he said. ‘They are a trap for the unwary and every day they leave here with a purse full of silver coins. Don’t you waste your money on them again.’ He smiled and raised his hand over them both in a blessing. ‘And tell your master, I will see him tomorrow.’

    Isolde, Brother Peter and Luca were waiting for Ishraq and Freize when the gondola arrived back at the grand house. Isolde had unpacked the new clothes that had survived the journey from Ravenna, and had looked all around their new grand quarters. She took Ishraq upstairs to their floor, as Freize, in the men’s quarters, told Luca that they had found Father Pietro.
    ‘It’s the most beautiful house I have ever seen,’ she confided in Ishraq. ‘Lucretili was grand, but this is beautiful. Every corner is like a painting. There is an inner courtyard, on the side of the house, with a roofed walkway on all the four sides which leads to a pretty walled garden. When the weather is warmer we can walk round the courtyard and sit in the garden.’
    ‘Surely we’ll walk on the quays and the piazza? And we’ll take the gondola out?’ asked Ishraq.
    Isolde made a little face. ‘Apparently, the ladies of Venice don’t go out much. Maria, the housekeeper, said so. We’ll have to stay indoors. We can go out to church once a day, or perhaps to visit friends in their houses. But mostly ladies stay at home. Or visit other ladies in their homes.’
    ‘I can’t be cooped up!’ Ishraq protested.
    ‘That’s how they do things in Venice. If we want to pass as the sister and companion of a prosperous young merchant, we’ll have to behave that way. It won’t be for long – just till Luca finds the source of the gold coins and sends a report to Milord.’
    ‘But that could be weeks, it could be months,’ Ishraq said aghast.
    ‘We can probably go out on the water in our own gondola,’ Isolde suggested. ‘As long as we are veiled, or sit in the cabin.’
    Ishraq looked blankly at her. ‘We are in one of the richest, most exciting cities in Christendom and you’re telling me that we’re not allowed to walk around it on our own two feet?’
    Isolde looked uncomfortable. ‘You can probably go out to the market with Freize or a chaperone,’ she said. ‘But I can’t. I wasn’t even allowed to listen to the lecture, even though it was held in the chapel beside the church.’
    ‘What