The Law of Angels by Cassandra Clark Read Free Book Online Page B

barbican gazed into the hidden depths of Galtres Forest.
    Guards stood inside the barbican searching everybody for weapons. They were making a slow and thorough job of it. Men had their tunics stripped off and women were asked to lift their kirtles. When their turn came Hildegard gave the man a steely glance. “Do I look as if I’m armed?” she asked. “And what about these children and the lay sister, are they armed, do you imagine?”
    “I’m only doing my job,” the guard grumbled, eyeing the eating knife Hildegard openly displayed in a sheath on her belt. With a sidelong glance at his companions he hurriedly waved them through.
    “I’ll go and see if I can stay at my cousins’ over near Walmgate,” Agnetha announced once they were inside the town. “Let me know when you’re settled in and if you want me to do anything to help. Where do you intend to stay?”
    “We’ll try St. Clement’s. The nuns there are always friendly to travellers from Swyne.”
    They parted to go their separate ways.
    Hildegard was surprised at the hordes of people pouring in for the festival. She hadn’t expected to find the town so busy. Judging by their accents they came from all parts of the county and beyond. It was a far cry from Deepdale.
    Here the streets were filled with peddlers and entertainers. Musicians played on every corner, some good, some painful to the ear, and working in among them were jugglers and magicians, fortune-tellers and pardoners, pilgrims visiting St. William’s shrine in the minster, itinerant healers and quacks, craft masters and apprentice boys in the distinctive colours of their guilds, as well as labourers out of bond, carriers, messengers, mendicant friars, servants and merchants with their retinues. The town was bursting at the seams.
    She bought the girls some hot pasties from a booth and then they made their way through the cacophony of sound to the nunnery on the other side of the river.
    *   *   *
    The Benedictine nun who watched the door was apologetic. “I’m sorry, sister. We haven’t an inch of spare room. People started turning up in droves in the middle of last week. We’re going to be full until the celebrations are over.” She gave a glance at the two girls standing on either side of Hildegard. “All I can suggest is that you try the Sisters of the Holy Wounds. They rarely open their doors to anyone, but I believe even they have decided to allow outsiders in for the duration of the feast.”
    She explained how they could find their convent and before Hildegard turned to go she called after her. “I’m not recommending them, you understand? But it’s the only place where you’re likely to find room to rest your heads just now.”
    With thanks Hildegard led the way back down to the bank of the river. Following the nun’s instructions they stayed on the same side and walked on for a good distance while remaining within the walls. Apparently the convent was near the staithe where the barges discharged their cargo before returning to the Humber ports they serviced.
    Before they reached the warehouses lining the quay, however, they came to a tall, windowless building with a large wooden crucified Christ dripping red paint set above a porch. There was a grille next to it. When Hildegard tapped on it a nun peered suspiciously through the bars.
    “Greetings, sister. We’re travellers looking for accommodation—” Hildegard began.
    Cold eyes sized her up, took in the two girls then glared at the hounds. “No animals.” The door on the other side of the grille snapped shut. Before they could turn away they heard bolts being worked loose and the big double doors ground open.
    A crabbed nun appeared from the lodge, ringing a hand bell. At its summons a shaven-headed man appeared from an inner recess. He wore the cheap woollen tunic of a convent servant. Hildegard was astonished to find a man within the precincts and wondered if he was a eunuch.
    The nun indicated that the