Ma drew her away from the mask and pushed her down to sit on the bed. She stood squarely in front of Elena, her arms folded across her pendulous breasts.
'I hope you're grateful, my darling. Talbot's just saved your neck. If they start asking questions among the cock-fighting men they'll be sent round in such circles that by the time they're finished, their heads'll be stuck so far up their own arses, they'll be eating their dinner twice over. But it's far from over for you, my darling. They know Raoul came here. If they don't find someone to pay for his murder, sooner or later one of them'll want to talk to the girl who pleasured him and you'd better pray it isn't Osborn asking the questions.'
'But I didn't kill him, Ma,' Elena repeated woodenly, though she didn't really believe it herself any more.
The tiny woman looked at her and shrugged. 'You think that's going to make a flea's shit of difference?'
She grasped Elena by the shoulders. Elena cringed as Ma's fingers dug as hard as iron fetters into her flesh.
'Now, you listen to me, my darling. If you want us to go on protecting you, you'd better see to it that you do exactly what I say. Next time you entertain, put your back into it and look like you are enjoying it. Give your customer all he asks for and more. Men don't have any imagination, but we do. We show them what they can't even dream of, and for that they're willing to sell their own mothers. In the meantime, if you still believe in such things, you'd best get to your knees and pray that no one comes forward who saw you near the Adam and Eve last night.'
7th Day after the Full Moon,
August 1211
Cuckoo pint — which some call Devil's prick, Bloody fingers, Angels and devils, Wake robin, Wild arum and Jack in the green. This is the plant we most loathe for its presumption. Unlike the mandrake that grows at the foot of the gallows, this weed claims to have sprung up at the foot of the Holy Cross, no less. Its dark leaves, so mortals claim, were spotted with red by the very Blood of Christ, whilst we may claim only the honest semen of dishonest men.
Further more, mortals declare it a certain remedy for poison. They say also that it brings down a woman's menses so that she might conceive even when she is past her child- bearing years and is a powerful love potion. And there is many a foolish mortal youth who before a feast or merry dance sings out, I place you in my shoe, let all fair maids be drawn to you.
Be not deceived, this Devil's prick is but a feeble shadow of what a mandrake can do.
The Mandrake's Herbal
The Corpse
Raffe pulled Talbot into the shelter of some willows on the bank of the river.
'I don't have much time, I must get back before I'm missed.' Raffe glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the manor. 'Hugh was supposed to be at court with his brother, but he left him on the road and returned here, some excuse about a fever, though I've never seen a man more fit and hale in my life.'
'Devil take him!' Talbot spat into the water. 'That queers things, 'cause I've come to tell you there's a ship in Yarmouth due to sail day after tomorrow, so you need to move your package downriver tonight. Can you do it with Hugh on the prowl?'
'I'll do it,' Raffe said grimly. 'Sooner the man's gone, the safer for all of us.'
Raffe was thinking of Lady Anne, but he had not mentioned her part in this to Talbot. Talbot loathed and despised every nobleman and woman simply by virtue of their birth and there was no point handing him information he might delight in selling.
A little way downstream, a boatman sat hunched in his craft, chewing a strip of dried eel and whittling away at a small piece of wood. From time to time he glanced over at the two men, but he knew it was safest not to be seen showing any interest in any business in which Talbot had a hand.
Talbot grunted. 'The boatmen'll be waiting near the jetty by the Fisher's Inn around the midnight hour. They'll take him down river to Yarmouth. Give the men this token. Otherwise they're liable to cut his