Medicus

23

Tilla could smell fresh bread. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and peered out between the window bars. Across the street, a pigeon was perched on the roof of the bakery. Beneath it, someone swung back the first panel of the door shutters. A plump woman appeared in the gap, bending to apply her bottom to the rest of the shuttering. The panels shifted on their hinges and the pigeon swooped away as the whole apparatus began to screech back along its groove.

Tilla watched the pigeon until the frame of the window blocked her view. Then she returned to her bed, slid her hand underneath, and pulled out the iron key the healer had given her the night before. She had felt sorry for the healer, who had done nothing to deserve being smacked on the head and who should have had her beaten-since it seemed she did, after all, still belong to him. Evidently she was not yet the property of the ill-mannered bullies who had sauntered in yesterday with the clear intention of sizing her up for their own use.

The question was, what should she do now? She had the key. If she could find clothes, if she ate and built up her strength, if she could judge the right moment-she could escape. Or, she could choose not to eat, to cheat the work of the healer, and step forward toward her death. What honor, though, would she have in the next world if she had been offered a chance of freedom in this one and refused to take the risk?

A clunk from the loose board in the corridor warned her that someone was outside. Moments later there was a soft knock at the door. Tilla pressed her face against the door frame and squinted through the crack. She could just about make out a shape that was not tall enough to be either of the men.

"Daphne?"

The form moved and the hand knocked again.

Tilla slid the key into the lock, positioned one foot an inch away to hold the door while she assured herself it was only the girl, and then let her in.

"Daphne," she said, locking the door again. "Thank you."

The girl put the tray down on the bench.

"Did you sleep well?"

Daphne shrugged, and indicated her belly in a way that suggested her expectations of sleep were limited.

"When is your baby due?"

A second shrug indicated that this was not a subject of great interest.

"My master has given me the key," explained Tilla, "so I can decide who comes in. I do not want those men in here. If you come alone, knock like this." She demonstrated three short taps on the windowsill.

"Understand?"

Daphne reached out a hand and gave three short taps on the door.

"Only if you are alone, yes?"

Daphne nodded and pointed to herself. For a moment Tilla thought she was about to smile, but a yell of, "Daphne!" from downstairs reminded her of her duties. Tilla let her out, locked the door, and retreated to see what they had given her for breakfast.