Free Bone of Contention by Roberta Gellis Page B

boy, who had hesitated. “I’ll be going out myself tomorrow. If you lie to me, I’ll skin you.”
    “Two farthings for the ordinary,” he said sullenly.
    “Good enough. That sounds right.” She handed him a penny. “Get two dinners and you can have one.”
    The boy’s eyes brightened. “Ale or wine?” he asked. “I gave you the price with the drink.”
    “Ale.”
    Magdalene shook her head as Diccon ran off. Likely the meal was only one farthing and the drink a second, but he hoped to get away with giving her the higher price by pretending he thought she would want a drink. It showed his cleverness, however, and Magdalene felt that two farthings was a cheap price to pay for the information she hoped to extract and with no one the wiser about her curiosity.
    She obtained her money’s worth, for she invited Diccon to join her while she ate. He was enormously pleased and relieved, which made Magdalene suspect that half or more of his meal might disappear down other gullets if he were caught with it. She began by remarking that Florete had told her how crowded Oxford was and asking if Diccon happened to know who was already in the town.
    The knowledge that he was safe and could eat and drink in peace oiled his tongue. He not only knew who was in the town, but by virtue of being used to carry messages, he knew where most of the great lords were lodged. He also knew who among them were friends and who were at odds because of the behavior of the men-at-arms of different meinies to each other. And there were others, he said, who were supposed to be friends—the men would greet each other civilly—but the way they looked at each other told a different story.
    He mentioned the earl of Chester, and asked if it were true that Chester ruled like a king on his great palatine estates bordering Wales and cared little for King Stephen. He mentioned the lodgings of meinies of the earls of Surrey and Warwick, Pembroke and Leicester. Magdalene bit her lip; she remembered that the king had told William to send his men home because there was no room for them, but all those earls were relatives by blood or marriage of Waleran de Meulan.
    Diccon named others, but they were mostly the king’s own creations and had little weight or influence beyond the king’s will. Absorbed in her anxiety for her friend and protector, she ignored the boy’s light voice until he said, “They’re all asking about the bishops of Salisbury, Lincoln, and Ely. Seems there’s a house kept empty for them on Castle Street but they haven’t come. Men are betting that they’ll seal themselves into their castles and wait for Robert of Gloucester to come.”
    “Who is betting that?” Magdalene asked sharply.
    “Oh, Lord Waleran’s men mostly. Surrey’s men bet against them. They said the bishops have to come ‘cause Gloucester ain’t ready yet and they need to look innocent ‘til they join him.”
    “But Surrey’s men are just as sure the bishops are in league with Gloucester as Lord Waleran’s men?” She frowned. “Are you making this up, Diccon? Where would you hear such talk?”
    “In the common room,” Diccon said indignantly. “They act like me and the girls are deaf. If they have to wait because there are too many for the private rooms or their favorite girls are busy, Florete sells wine and they drink and talk. They could take the common girls, but they don’t.” A look of cunning crossed his face. “Sometimes I wonder if they come to talk to each other more than they come for the women.”
    It was certainly not impossible, Magdalene thought. William was clever, but he could not be the only one who realized a whorehouse was a place where men would come in contact and yet not be seen actually visiting each other’s lodgings, or gathering in groups in the street. A whorehouse was a good place to spread rumors, too. And Magdalene did not like either of the rumors. If the king took away the bishops’ offices either for defiance or