The Jester Read online

  Norcross stepped toward me, reaching for his sword. “Again, you incite me, fool. I will split you in two.”

  “Be still.” The duke put up his hand. “You will have your chance. You make a grave charge, fool. Yet I am informed the Crusade continues, that the armies of Raymond and Bohemond are now in sight of the Holy City. Yet you, somehow, are here. Tell me, how was your service there discharged so soon?”

  I was about to stammer back a reply, but to this charge I had none. I dropped my head.

  A convicting silence filled the room.

  [164] Baldwin curled a smile. “You claim injury, fool, yet it seems it is your offenses that begin to add up. To the crimes of adultery and fraud, I must add desertion.”

  A rising anger swelled in my chest. I lunged, in my bonds, toward Norcross, but before I had gone a step, the duke’s men kicked me to the floor.

  “The fool wants at you, Norcross,” Baldwin said.

  “And I him, my lord.”

  “And you shall have him. But it belittles you, knight, to take him in contest. I think I have let you suffer ill from this squirrel once too often. Take him away.” He waved. “At noon tomorrow you may chop off his head.”

  “You honor me.” The knight bowed.

  Baldwin shook his head sadly. “Fool, innkeeper, spy… whatever I should call you, it is a great shame. We will have to deal with Palimpost once more. For your stay here, you certainly provided a good laugh.” He stood, wrapped his cloak around himself, and prepared to leave. Then Baldwin turned. “And Norcross…”

  “Yes, my liege?”

  “No need to waste a sharp blade on the fool’s neck.”

  Chapter 54

  I WAS HURLED down the stairs to the dungeon, my knees and ribs scraping against the hard rock floor.

  My nostrils were forced to suck in that same repulsive stench from the night before.

  I heard laughter and the clang of a heavy door as two burly guards grabbed my arms and tossed me into an open cell.

  When my eyes cleared, I saw Armand, the jailer, with a mocking grin. “Back so soon, jester? You must have liked the accommodations after all.”

  I was about to tell him to go to Hell, but he kicked me in the stomach and the air rushed out of my lungs. “This time I’m afraid we’ll be supplying the stew.”

  The guards laughed. Armand, with the strength of a beast, yanked me up to a sitting position. He knelt next to me and shook his head. “Always the scum they bring me. Never a noble accused of a fancy crime. Just the whores and the motherfuckers, church thieves, beggars, a few Jews… But a jester… That’s a new one.”

  Armand’s partner came in, lugging an armful of heavy chains. “So we must bind you, jester. And for such a short stay… But the duke has paid for the deluxe room, so chains it is.”

  Armand held me up, pinning my hands behind my back. [166] “You’re a lucky fool. The blade’s painless. Just a little pinprick… here.” He pinched my neck. “If you stayed here a while, I could show you some real fun. Ball crackers, nostril rippers, eye screws… red-hot pokers, right up the old ass. Sure cleans out the sinuses.”

  He nodded toward his partner, who slowly wound the first ring of chain around my chest.

  My mind flashed to attention. “Please.” I put up a hand to distract them. “Wait a minute.” I took a deep breath, quietly sucking in a chest full of air.

  “I know.” Armand sighed. “It’s a little confining at first. But when you get used to them, you’ll be sleeping like a log.”

  I put my hand up for another moment, then I flashed him a smile of thanks. I took in three more deep breaths, forcing as much air as I could into my lungs. I felt my whole chest expand.

  “Ready?” The jailer arched his eyebrows.

  I nodded. “Ready.”

  Chapter 55

  INSIDE THE TINY CELL, I twisted and squirmed on my back, and I ground my arms against the tight chains.

  I had no idea what time it was, how long I had been here. I only knew that if I was still here when they came tomorrow, I was a dead man.

  I let out all my breath. And the slightest space opened to move my arms.

  Hours passed. A finger’s breadth of freedom came. Then another. I felt the chains loosen some, but not enough.

  I narrowed my shoulders and tucked my chin inside the chain. For the first time in hours, I took a breath with ease. I snaked an arm through the bonds. Then the other, and a loop of chain went over my head.

  Then I heard the echo of voices coming down the stairs. Someone delivering dinner. Time for soup. The guards were taking their meal, laughing as they ate.

  Other prisoners were grumbling, calling out. Then footsteps… a last meal arriving for me.

  “So,” a familiar voice said with a sigh, “it seems I am back in business.”

  I raised my eyes. It was Palimpost, the deposed jester, standing in front of my cell. He carried my staff.

  [168] “Come to gloat,” I muttered, swallowing the bitterest taste of defeat.

  “Not at all.” He dangled a set of keys. “In truth, I have come to set you free.”

  I widened my eyes in surprise. I was sure this had to be some kind of cruel joke. Payback … I waited for the guards to come and laugh. But they did not.

  “Bette and I have drugged the guards with the soup. Quick now, let’s get you out of here.”

  “Bette … and you … ! I could not believe what he was saying. This was the man I had had sacked. Now he was dangling my freedom before my eyes. “Is this real?”

  “It is real, if you can get up off your ass.” He inserted a key into the lock and turned it, the door creaking open.

  I still could not believe it. But it did not matter. Even if this was just a cruel joke, even if Norcross hid a few feet away, set to cut me in two, I was dead tomorrow anyway.

  “Somehow we have to get you out of those chains.” Palimpost exhaled.

  “Not a problem,” I said. I wiggled my shoulders and arms, and before his eyes, slithered through the top links. Then, I began to unwrap the chains until they fell to my ankles. I kicked them free.

  The jester looked astonished. “Damn, you are good,” he exclaimed. “Quick … come.”

  I held him back. “Why … why are you doing this for me?”

  “Professional courtesy.” The jester shrugged.

  “Please, do not joke.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Tell me why…”

  He looked at me with pained eyes. “You saved the loved ones of a friend of mine. You think you are the only one who would risk everything for love?”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “You… and Bette?”

  “What’s so hard to believe, man? Besides, it would have been a shame to waste you. You really weren’t half bad.”

  [169] He handed me my pouch of belongings, my staff, and a dark-colored cloak. I removed the knife from my pouch and put it in my belt, under my tunic. Then I donned the cloak and headed for the stairs.

  “Not that way,” Palimpost cautioned, taking my arm. “Follow me.”

  He led me deeper into the dungeon. The jagged cavern widened, then narrowed again into an opening no bigger than a small cave. At a spot he knew, Palimpost knelt and pulled a stone from the wall near the floor. A passageway appeared.

  “There’s a fork halfway through. When you reach it, head left. It empties into the moat. Head toward the forest. In the darkness you’ll be safe. Go right, and you’ll end up back at the castle. Remember-left.”

  I crouched down to the passage. “You are a good man. I am sorry that I caused you any harm.”

  “Oh, what’s a little risk of one’s life when there’s love in the air?” He grinned. “Tell Norbert he should not sleep easy. Next time, it will be I who presses the attack.”

  He pushed me forward and I steadied myself with my staff. The passage was low ceilinged, narrow, and jagged. My feet struck cold water up to my shins. It smelled foul. I bumped into floating objects. I was sure they were dead rats.

/>   I waved good-bye and, leveling my rod, hustled through. Left, Palimpost had said, beyond the castle walls. To the forest. And freedom.

  But when I got to the fork, I didn’t hesitate. I turned right. I headed along the dark, murky walls. Back to the castle…

  There was one last thing I had to do.

  Chapter 56

  THE DARK TUNNEL LET OUT, of all places, in the hearth of the great meeting room deep inside the castle.

  I pushed a stone slab out of the way of the opening and wormed my way through. Sleeping knights lay all around. If they woke, I was as good as dead.

  I crept silently about the room, lifting a sword from one knight who snored dead to the world. I snatched a piece of cheese off the floor and ate the morsel furtively. Then I hurried out of the room.

  I knew not what hour it was, but the castle halls were dark and completely quiet. Declining candles flickered against the walls.

  I rushed toward the castle’s main entrance, careful not to encounter anyone.

  Outside the entryway my heart relaxed; I had not been seen. Soldiers milled about the dark courtyard. Guards paced on the ramparts. A horse neighed as a rider galloped in from outside. I quickly crossed the courtyard huddled in my cloak.

  I knew the room where Norcross slept, one near the barracks. It lay up a narrow stone staircase, torches lighting the walls on either side.

  I made my way to the door. Then I took several deep [171] breaths. A flash of nerves slithered down my spine. From inside the room came curious noises. Giggling and squeals. The bastard was in, all right.

  I removed the sword from under my cloak. This was for my wife and child.

  Chapter 57

  I UNLATCHED AND PUSHED OPEN the heavy door to Norcross’s room. It was dimly lit. A mound of clothes lay on the floor. Norcross’s… and a lady’s…

  There was the sound of heavy panting and grunts.

  On the heavy-posted bed, I saw a partially clad woman bracing her arms against the headboard with her legs akimbo. Norcross, wearing only his undertunic, hammered her from behind.

  It took me a moment to recognize the lady Estella. Her and Norcross’s ardor was so great, I wasn’t spotted until I was well into the room.

  The knight turned first. “Who goes?”

  I stepped forward into the light and winked at Estella. “My lady.” I bowed. “It seems you are once again offended. As often as possible, it appears.”

  “You…” Norcross said. His eyes lit up as if he were staring at a roasted side of beef.

  “Me,” I replied, a smile on my lips.

  Norcross pulled himself off Estella, who covered herself with bedsheets. He stood up, his prick still quivering, and crudely wiped himself with his own shirt. “However you got yourself free, you have great balls to come here.”

  “Good. Then at least one of us does,” I said, glancing down.

  [173] Norcross curled a smile. In no hurry, he reached for his sword. “I might as well take your head tonight. Then I can sleep late tomorrow.”

  Estella grabbed her garments and ran, half naked, toward the door.

  “Do not go, Estella,” Norcross said. “Nothing perks my prick like spilling a man’s guts in front of him. I’ll be back inside you before you’re dry.”

  Norcross chuckled. He seemed in no great hurry as he circled away from the bed, flexing his chest muscles, looking at me contemptuously, as if I were a bug he was about to squash. “Here, fool, have your justice.” Then he let out a fierce cry and swung his sword at my neck in a mighty arc.

  I stood my ground and his sword clashed against mine with a loud clang. At the impact, I swung underneath, but Norcross parried as if his sword had no weight.

  He was a skilled fighter. I could see that from the first blows. I had learned well in the Crusade-I was certainly frightened of no one-but it flashed through my head that he was far more experienced than I… a knight! And a killer of women and children.

  Norcross grunted and swung his sword fiercely, as if to cut me in two. I leaped backward, the blade slicing by with a loud whoosh.

  Norcross swung the weapon in a continuous motion and charged at me again. I breached my sword to take the blow and forced his to the floor. We stood there, eye to eye, our swords pinned. “You fight like a woman.” He grinned.

  Then he butted me in the forehead and sent me reeling.

  I caught myself on the bed, Estella scampering out of my way. He charged again, this time hammering his sword twice at my shoulders. Somehow I blocked both blows.

  Sparks flew from the clash of steel on steel. The chilling clang of death reverberated in my ears.

  I swung back. Norcross blocked it with ease. He stood up [174] my sword almost effortlessly. Then, as he pushed it downward, it grazed across my arm, taking a slice of flesh. I let out a howl. Singeing pain sliced through me. The wound ran red on my forearm.

  “Know the feel.” Norcross grinned assuredly. “That will be your neck a moment from now.”

  He came at me, swinging his mighty sword back and forth. I blocked it two, three times, but the weight was overpowering.

  I felt my arms growing weary. Each blow I found myself parrying late. I was a mere instant from having his sword plunge through my chest. I wanted to kill him. I wanted him to die. But I was losing. Any moment might be my last.

  Finally, he forced me back into a corner. Frantically, I swung one last time, and he blocked me with ease. He was laughing, knowing he had me. His stale breath was in my face. The smell of his sweat tormented me. The awful sneer on his face could be the last thing I ever saw.

  “Go to your grave knowing that I fucked your wife. I shot my seed into her, and when I finished, she asked for more.”

  My sword was slipping in my grip. His was closing on my neck, inches from slicing through the bone. With my free hand, I reached into my belt. My knife there … My last chance.

  Norcross’s eyes were fiery and determined. “Listen close, fool. That is the last thing you will ever hear.”

  “For Sophie… for Phillipe!” I yelled in his face.

  In that instant, I shoved the knife upward into his chest. I felt sinew tear, bone crack, but he did not move a muscle in his face.

  I pushed the knife harder and harder, but his gaze bore down on me. Incredible! He continued to press his blade into my neck.

  Then Norcross opened his mouth as if to add one last thought. This time a stream of blood rushed out. I saw his hands loosen on the sword. Then he took a step backward. A stagger, actually.

  [175] I pushed him away, my knife buried deep in his chest.

  Estella screamed as if the knife were sticking in her.

  Norcross was trying like a drunken man to regain his balance. He wobbled, then he fell to his knees. He looked up at me, disbelief in his eyes, cupping his own vitals in his hands. Then he keeled over dead.

  I felt overcome, at first with relief and then with sadness. I had avenged Sophie and Phillipe, but I realized there was nothing for me now.

  I picked up my sword. I had to get out of here. I took Estella by the hair. She had set me up. She’d nearly cost me my life. I held her pretty head back and ran the tip of my sword across her neck. “Do not shout or call out. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, terror in her round eyes.

  “You are most lucky,” I said, forcing a smile, “that I am a gentle-fool.”

  Chapter 58

  EXHAUSTED, AND AFRAID that Estella would sound the alarm, I staggered from the fallen knight’s room. I was now a murderer.

  I took my staff and sword and was able to climb down the ramparts from an undetected spot near Norcross’s chamber. The moat was dry, and I crossed it on foot.

  From there, I ran. Ran in the shadows through the darkened streets of the surrounding village. Ran until I found the woods.

  My arm hung like a roast sliced open. The wound was bleeding profusely. I came upon a stream and cleaned it as best I could and tied it with a strip of cloth from my tunic. I wa
s an outcast again, a criminal now, not just a deserter from a far-off war but a murderer-a killer of a noble. No doubt Baldwin would come after me. I needed to put as much distance as I could between me and Treille. But where would I go?

  I hid in the woods, keeping off the main roads. I was hungry and cold, but the knowledge that I had avenged Sophie and Phillipe warmed me inside. I felt vindicated, restored. I hoped God forgave me.

  Just after first light, I heard a loud rumble. I hid in the brush as a posse of armed riders, dressed in Baldwin ’s colors, galloped by. I didn’t know where they were heading. Veille du Père? Sweeping the roads and villages?

  [177] I headed east, tracking the main road, through the deepest part of the forest. I avoided any travelers I saw. I didn’t know where I was going. My arm ached and throbbed.

  A day out, I came to a fork in the road that I now knew well. I had passed here on my recent journey to Treille.

  To the east lay my old village, Veille du Père. A day’s trek. My inn was there, Matthew, my brother-in-law, what family I still had. My friends… Odo, Georges… Memories of Sophie and the grave of my poor baby son…

  They would welcome me there. I was Hugh, spinner of tales. I made everybody laugh. Surely they would welcome back a lost son.

  Then a sharp sadness came over me.

  I couldn’t go back there. My village lay in Baldwin ’s territory. They would look for me there. And it was not my home, not anymore. Just a place where memories would haunt my dreams.

  Like a good song, life has verses, the goliards had taught me. Each verse has to be sung. It takes all of them to make a song. It is the entire chanson you name, but when you think of it, when you smile, it is a favorite verse that delights your ears.

  Sophie … for me, you will always be that verse.

  But now I must go … I must leave you.

  I gripped my staff. I took a deep breath.

  I chose the trail north, toward whatever new life lay ahead.

  Toward Borée.