"As well as can be expected," Robin replied, opening the sealed note. She noticed with amusement that Donnar had sealed it with a blob of candle wax and the impression of a coin. A rather unusual coin. It was, in fact, one of the silver coins she'd given him in exchange for his information and help, an ancient piece bearing a strange bird with two tails.
"Sometimes I wish I'd'a followed his advice," Wylie said wistfully, without elaborating on what the advice had been; then he shrugged, and took himself off.
The note said simply, "Go to Threadneedle Street, to the shop of Ardana Bodkin. Say, 'I've come to order an alabaster alb and an ivory altar cloth.' Don't bring instruments. It's been taken care of." There was no signature, which was wise on Donnar's part.
Robin memorized the code-phrase, and burned the note in the candle at their table. "Are you tired of making Stars?" she asked. "Could you use a break?"
Kestrel nodded.
"Good. So could I." She stood up, and brushed her skirts off. "Lets go for a walk."
He took her arm and paid their reckoning, and they walked out into the street. "Are w-we g-going where I th-think w-we're g-going?" he asked cautiously.
"Well, probably; since you got to see Threadneedle Street yesterday and I didn't, I thought it would make a nice walk," she replied. "There might be something down there I could use that you didn't notice."
"Ah." Jonny made no other comment, but his hand tightened on her arm. But he looked a little relieved; evidently he felt a bit better about visiting a House if it wasn't in the Warren.
Well, so did she! Donnar's protection notwithstanding, she did not want to visit that place after dark. There really was no such thing as "honor among thieves," and she did not trust anyone in that place once darkness fell.
Ardana Bodkin was the only seamstress prospering at all_the shop front was swept and newly painted, the windows filled with color, silk and satin, and two young women stitching away at crimson velvet inside. But that was only natural_since from the window display, Ardana Bodkin specialized in ecclesiastical robes.
The place was a feast for the eye after the browns and grays of the drab clothing outside. The crimson satin robes of a Justiciar sparkled with rich gold bullion embroidery; the vivid blue silk robes of an Intercessor boasted cutwork of impossible intricacy. Next to that, the emerald green robes for the Service of Vernal Equinox shone with lacework dyed to match. And there were, of course, dozens of the white robes favored by High Bishop Padrik and his Order, all brilliant with embroidery, lace, cutwork, and gems.
"May we help you?' asked one of the young ladies, a plain-faced blonde, as Robin gazed with hungry eyes on all the vivid, soul-satisfying color. She had not realized how much she missed her Gypsy finery.
"I've come to order an alabaster alb and an ivory altar cloth," she said carefully_and a little regretfully. A pity to have to leave all this color....
But the young woman smiled, and said, "Please follow me," then led them both through the back room where a single woman stitched gold bullion to white satin, to a small door hidden behind a swath of velvet. She knocked twice, paused, and three times; the door swung open, and she motioned for Robin and Kestrel to go inside.
The moment they did, Robin swallowed; somehow, Donnar had made a horrible mistake! They were in the receiving room of a convent!
The room held about five or six lovely young women dressed in the robes of the Sisters and Novices of a religious Order; she didn't recognize the pearl gray and white of their habits, but they were clearly religious robes. The room itself was as stark as any in a convent; a few benches, plain white walls, a single bookcase full of books. The young ladies all turned to stare at the intruders.
"I _" she gasped. "Excuse us, we _"
The woman who closed the door behind them laughed. She too wore the robes of the Order, whatever it was, but her chestnut hair was left to stream unbound down her back, like a maiden's, confined only by a headband.
"You think you made a mistake, yes?" she said, in a rich contralto. "But you are Robin, and you, Kestrel; you play the harp, both, and you come from Donnar, yes?"
At Robin's dumb nod, she laughed again. "You have made no mistake. This is the House of the Penitents, and I am Madam_ah, rather, I am Sister-Mother Ardana."
Robin blinked_and then she took a second, closer look at the "habits" of the putative Sisters. They were cut to fit like second skins down the line of the torso. The robes left nothing and everything to the imagination, and were certainly teasingly erotic.
"But_why all this?" she asked, as Ardana led them across the room to the door on the other side.
"Well, it is very convenient, for one thing," she replied, tossing her rich brown hair over her shoulder as she opened the second door. "If the authorities were ever to come to this part of the shop, they would find that all of the ladies here are seamstresses_or, at least, they can sew enough to convince a fool Constable of the fact! We have everything in place to make it at least look like a convent, so long as we have time to clean the private rooms. There are many convents in Gradford these days, many women establishing their own charitable Orders which support themselves by a trade or a craft, since the miracles began. I have heard that one or two are even genuine."
The door she led them to opened onto a corridor, as austere as the receiving room, with doors on both sides. "Why so many new Orders?" Robin asked, puzzled. "I thought you had to get the permission of the Church to establish an Order."