The Friar's Tale, стр. 57

"Ah. I hear teenage girls do such things. Hopefully she will grow out of it."

He made a rueful face. "Hopefully she will, as the man concerned is married, among other things."

Tuck winced. For a girl to end up a mistress at such a young age would taint her for any good marriage, unless the man was of great rank. "I will pray for her."

The man studied him for a long moment. "Good. Thank you." He let out a breath. "I think God sends children to try us. Of course, you would not know."

"No." Although there was, these days, no of course about it." Tuck let out his own breath. He could not see how this conversation could be dangerous.

"Thank you." the man repeated, then as the rain increased, he fled towards a nearby tavern.

Tuck kept going. The daughter was in trouble, and that was what the warning was about. It was, thus, trouble that might spread.

He did not like the thought or sound of that. Trouble spreading was not something he wanted to even think about. Especially not trouble involving a pretty girl. Robin might be immune to their charms, but he was less sure about some of the others.

Well. He would pray for her, that being all he could do about the situation right now. She was just some confused kid, he knew. In love, or thinking she was, and not yet accepting of the fact that she would not be permitted to be.

Of the fact that her life would be ruled by circumstance, not her own will or choices. Such was the way life worked.

He reached Jew Street not long after. The houses here all had store fronts. Only a couple were money changers. One traded in fine fabrics, another had dedicated his business to both selling and buying jewelry.

Typical Jewish occupations. But then, what else could they do? They were not permitted to own land. Likely they did not even own these houses, just to make sure they could be thrown out when needed. One of these buildings presumably contained their synagogue.

A young woman, her hair covered, came out of one of them. She was not dark, like the women of the Holy Land, but was of the fair kind of Jew...the strands that showed beneath the scarf were red, not brown or black.

"Lady," he called.

She turned. She was about eighteen, and he saw the gentle curve of pregnancy beneath her dress.

"I would speak with your rabbi." The rabbi would know everything in the community. Would understand, too, why the brother had come. The Jewish priests, such as they were, wed and have children.

"Try the house with the red door," she said softly, before turning towards one of the other houses. She would not, of course, go to the market on her own. A young and beautiful Jewish woman would be a target for all kinds of mischief.

An older woman came out of that house, and the two set off down the street together. Hopefully, they would be enough protection, each for the other. When people encountered Jews, all bets were off.

He went to the red door and knocked on it. A boy answered. "Young man. I am looking for the rabbi."

The boy looked him up and down with more suspicion than the young woman had had. "You are not here to convert anyone?"

"No. I promise." Jews converted, sometimes. It was rare.

Saracens who converted to Christianity would be killed if found. They believed apostasy to be the worst of all crimes.

The boy nodded. Then he called something in the rather gutteral tongue of the Jews, into the house.

Tuck heard a response, then the boy switched back to English. "Come on in."

He noticed the sign of a Jew's house above the door...a small metal cylinder. He had never worked out what its significance was.

Perhaps he should ask, while he was here. It would demonstrate, after all, a certain respect for their beliefs. He intended to treat them with respect. It would cost him nothing and possibly gain much in the long term.

Inside, the house seemed normal. An older man, a little overweight, came down the stairs. "I am Levi."

"Can we speak in private?"

Levi nodded, moving into a back room. On the way, he poked his head into what was obviously the kitchen, calling something in his own language. "My wife will bring us wine and bread, if you wish."

Tuck was not about to turn it down. The room he was taken into looked like any room in any house. The only exception was a large bound book...a book! Tuck had never seen a book, of any kind, in a private home before. He stepped over towards it. "You have a book."

"It is the Talmud. Our scripture."

Tuck felt embarrassment. Of course, a rabbi, responsible for teaching scripture, would have a copy. Books were expensive, but it was likely that the entire community here had come together to make sure they had one. He did not touch it, but moved to sit down.

"So. Not often does a man of Christian cloth come here."

"There is a troubling rumor."

"Are they talking about throwing us out again?" The rabbi made a rueful face. "They tolerate us as long as we are useful, eliminate us as soon as we are not."

"There is a rumor that the king has been taken prisoner in the Holy Land."

"Indeed?"

"John's chances of being able to ransom his brother are slim."

"So, of course, he will come to us for a loan. Which he will not repay."

"I don't see how he can. There is no wealth anywhere that I can find." Tuck rested his hands on the cloth of his habit. "Those once wealthy have little, those once poor have nothing."

The rabbi nodded. "I can't confirm your rumor. Nor can I deny it. But I have heard that John has been calling the goldsmiths and other London Jews to court. Which..."

"...is evidence that he is going to ask for a loan, be it to ransom