it flashed before her eyes. The pin stabbed right through her ear lobe, fastening her to the bed. She squealed in pain, struggling desperately against her bonds.
Ma regarded her with interest, as a small boy might watch a beetle he has impaled on a thorn.
'A priest once told me, my darling — yes, I've entertained many priests in my time — that in the days of the ancient Israelites, if a slave was offered his freedom but wanted to stay a slave, his ear was pierced as a sign. No girl in this stew is a whore, my darling, unless she chooses to be one. Every woman here sells what talents she has, and that makes her an artist, a merchant of goods. She does no more or less than a scribe, a musician, or a trader in holy relics. Only a woman who lets a man take her because she is afraid of him, or of making her own way in the world, makes herself a slave and a whore. More whores have graced the noble marriage beds of Europe than ever worked in brothels.'
Elena was whimpering with pain, but with her hands bound she could not pull the pin out. Ma picked up the last pin from the bed and ran the sharp point lightly across Elena's face. Elena screwed up her eyes, sick with dread, but she couldn't even turn her head away for the pin ripped at her earlobe.
'So you went out last night,' Ma said softly. 'What do you remember? Tell me.'
'I had ... a dream, but that's all it was, a dream.'
'Ah yes, another dream, my darling. And in this dream you killed Hugh.'
'No, no,' Elena protested. 'In my dream a man was dead. But I don't know who it was ... his face, it was ... I was holding a knife, but I didn't stab him. You have to believe me.'
'I told you, my darling, the first night you came here, that I don't have to believe anything. And the undeniable fact is Hugh is dead. You wanted him dead. You were found outside in the streets. You remember seeing him dead and you remember holding the knife.'
'But I couldn't have got out, Ma. I couldn't lift the gate. It's too heavy.' Elena was almost sobbing. Her ear was burning, and her head throbbing. She remembered nothing clearly enough to make sense of it.
Ma reached over and slowly pulled the pin from Elena's ear. Elena gritted her teeth against the pain, feeling the warm trickle of blood run down her skin and pool wetly behind her neck.
Ma wiped the scarlet blood from the pin on her gown and slid it back into the coils of her black hair.
'I knew a woman once. Beasts pulling a wagon were spooked and broke into a gallop, the wagon toppled over and fell on her little son, pinning him by his legs. He was screaming, and before any of the neighbours could reach him, his mother had got hold of the wagon and lifted it off her son. Not even a man could do that by himself.
'Fear and hate can lend a woman strength greater even than a blacksmith. You had a reason enough to hate. I saw it in your face the night he finished with Finch and again when he took you. I'd not condemn any woman for taking a knife to a man who deserves it. In fact I'd admire her spirit. But this is serious, my darling. Osborn will turn this town upside down looking for his brother's killer. Too many men saw Hugh at the brothel just hours before. There will be some who'll be too ashamed to admit where they were and so will keep silent, but others will not care if it be known where they went, especially if a heavy purse is dangled in front of their eyes.
'Talbot and I can talk our way out of this, but we can't have Osborn questioning you. One of my whores, already a fugitive from justice, has killed two noblemen. If they ever discover you killed them, they'll accuse Talbot and me of luring them here, maybe even paying you to do it. We'll all hang together and I've no desire to get my neck stretched. I can't risk you being caught and questioned. You'll have to stay down here, hidden. The girls already believe you've run off, and will say so if asked, but you'll have to remain here and stay