The Friar's Tale, стр. 37
"Thank you." With that small help, he would be fine.
"Too many, too, step outside the Church into the realm of politics."
She meant Abbott Moresford. He was sure of it. "Perhaps that is because too many do not wish to be in the Church in the first place."
Mary seemed to consider that for a long moment. "You may well be right. I admit I have two novices who...would be better suited to marriage and children. One of them loves children. I honestly am trying to..."
Tuck frowned. "Would her family be amenable to her being transferred to an order that works with foundlings?"
"Perhaps."
"It sounds as if she might be happier." And perform a valuable service while she was at it. Too many bastards were abandoned on the doorsteps of churches. There were several orders that devoted themselves to caring for them. The boys were prepared for apprenticeship or orders. The majority of the girls stayed within the orders, looking after the next generation of foundlings. Only a few left to wed or seek apprenticeships in those guilds which took women.
"It's a good idea."
"No house is ever made happy if there is even one person under its roof who would rather not be there." And with so many not having the choice, it was no wonder at all that the houses were either unhappy...or turned into something they should not have been. Something inappropriate. Something... Tuck's thoughts tailed off. He was glad to be a friar and responsible only for his own conduct.
Inwardly he laughed. His own conduct. Drinking, enjoying the table too much, chasing around with outlaws and rescuing witches. He had enough to answer for without worrying about the deeds of his brothers. Well, if he was damned, at least he had had some fun on the way there.
Lords who flogged friars aside. "Which reminds me. There is a lord south and west of here who has become convinced all friars are spies for the outlaws."
Mary rolled her eyes. "I heard the story that a couple of them used friar's robes to get into the city unnoticed. But..."
"If you could warn anyone else who shows up to avoid his holdings. I barely got out of there."
"So, it was he who robbed you, not some outlaw."
Tuck colored. "Yes, it was." Robbery it had been. "He did say he would kill me if he saw me again."
"Well, I think we can deal with him," Mary said, practically. "Next time the bishop is in town, I will give it a quiet mention...and he will find all of the church avoiding his holdings."
She seemed confident the bishop would listen to her, and Tuck grinned. Official excommunication might be hard to manage, but the unofficial kind worked almost as well. Especially on somebody like that. "Until he apologizes, of course."
"Of course."
Tuck grinned at her again. "Thanks. I don't exactly have the ears of bishops myself."
"He's my brother."
"Oh." Tuck shook his head. Two children given to the church. Unless, of course, they were children of the wrong side of the blanket, that probably meant a large family.
He suspected the wrong side of the blanket. Many bishops were bastards of noble, or even royal, birth. And for female bastards to be hidden away in convents, where their offspring could not later show up as threats...
Tuck was not of such birth, but he had known those who were. Well, it was not his problem, right now. For right now, he had a warm cell to sleep in and good breakfast to look forward to.
In the morning, he left. They had managed to find a friar's habit that fit him with minimal alteration, ably done by a novice of about sixteen. Of course, he had made sure she saw none of his body. No need to tempt the girl. She was nervous enough around him, anyway.
Outside, it was no longer raining, or even threatening to rain. The sun was rising behind Castle Rock. He headed for the first place he could think of to find gossip.
He headed for the Pilgrim. It had, of course, not changed since last year. In fact, he thought he saw some of the same clientele. Fortunately, they did not recognize him. Likely, they did not look past habit and tonsure...the latter also ably redone by the Clares. It had needed it rather badly...and it was a hard thing to do yourself.
The inn was open for breakfast, although he had already eaten. Instead of going in, however, he leaned against the outer wall.
"Are you heading on pilgrimage?" a female voice asked.
He turned, and shook his head to the goodwife. "No."
She pulled out a coin. "Then you are hoping for alms." She added, with amusement that reminded him of Clorinda, "To spend on ale."
"Perhaps." He took the coin, slipped it into his belt pouch, and offered a quiet prayer in return. She smiled, bobbed her head, and headed on her business.
Part of him had always felt a bit guilty about accepting alms. After all, he was not completely devoid of the ability to earn what he needed. Perhaps that was why the outlaws had felt so good to be with.
They had expected him to pull his weight, and he had. Of course, part of his weight had been in prayers and masses, but that was only reasonable.
He had prayed for her, that made the exchange somewhat even. Perhaps she had a reason...no, he knew she had a reason, for her belly had been swelling slightly beneath her dress. Her first, likely, based off of her age. A frightening time for any young woman, for too many did die in the throes of producing offspring.
He prayed for her more sincerely as he walked away from the inn. Loitering there now would have seemed strange, but her coin would, eventually, buy him lunch.
The streets were starting to become crowded. The sun was still bright, although no doubt