by Joyce
“If I may, Your Majesty.” Merlin stepped forward. “I have examined the claims of elf magic which the shoemaker suggested. I can tell you that there are no facts to substantiate those claims.”
“Thank you, my trusty wizard.” The king smiled at him.
“Bill wasn’t drunk today either, Your Majesty,” I continued, uninvited. Sir Reginald shook his head. I ignored him. “He was ill from something he ate last night. His work is beyond reproach. I shall be happy to show you our sales reports for the past two days.”
The King and Queen nodded to one another.
“So we can expect great things from the shoemaker at his new abode?” King Harold raised a royal brow in my direction.
“Absolutely. Sometimes it’s difficult for people to settle in, as you well know, but I believe the shoemaker is a fine fit for the Village.”
“That is good enough for me, Lady Jessie.” Queen Olivia smiled. “You have our thanks for adding to our family here at the Village and increasing our coffers.”
It was bogus. The whole thing was a play so that the royals could practice dispensing justice. I’d shut down the museum for nothing. It would be hard to get that crowd back today.
Maybe it was okay since Bill wasn’t feeling well. I curtsied to the king and queen and left the throne room. Chase followed quickly after me.
“What happened with Bill?” he asked.
I shrugged. “He’s sick. I hope he’ll be better tomorrow.” I didn’t mention that the shoemaker had been up drinking half the night. “What about Sir Dwayne? Did anyone see him come into the castle last night?”
“I haven’t talked to anyone who saw him, but you know how it is here. There are too many people living in the castle for anyone to notice who goes in and out.”
“What about Gus? He wasn’t at the gate the day Isabelle died, you know. I’ve been thinking about it since then. What’s up with him?”
“He’s having an affair with one of the new women at The King’s Tarts. That’s all. He usually confines his dalliances to someone in the castle. He’s been roaming a little further than usual.”
“Maybe there needs to be someone at the gate to relieve him,” I suggested. “What now?”
“I don’t know. I’ll keep trying to find someone who saw Sir Dwayne come in last night. We don’t have a time for him, but neither do the police. Although they have plenty to charge him with after this morning.”
“Excuse me, good sir.” The woman was one of Isabelle’s ladies. I remembered her from the museum and the garden. “I overheard your problem. I can tell you what time Sir Dwayne came into the castle last night.”
Chase smiled at her. “Did you see him come in? You’re Victoria, right?”
“Yes, sir.” She dipped into a tiny curtsy. “I was going through Princess Isabelle’s clothing as the king and queen requested. They want to give away what they can of hers. Her suite will be used for Princess Pea in the future.”
“And what time did you see Sir Dwayne return?” Chase asked.
“It was before two a.m., sir. I noticed because he came to the princess’s room to retrieve some articles of his clothing.”
“I see. Thank you, Victoria.”
“Sir?” She stopped him from leaving. “I was wondering what happened this morning that made the police arrest Sir Dwayne? Do they believe he attacked Rita?”
“I don’t know yet,” Chase said. “Sir Dwayne held Lady Jessie hostage and tried to flee the Village. The gun he was holding went off, and he was injured. It doesn’t look good for him.”
Victoria’s face paled, and she put her hand to her throat. “You mean he is going to die?”
“No. He’ll be fine, but the charges are serious against him even without Rita’s attack.”
I was surprised at Chase being so frank with the woman. Usually he was a little cagier about his answers regarding an investigation. When Victoria curtsied and left us, I asked him about it.
“I figure she’s been through enough with Isabelle’s death. I didn’t want to jerk her around about it. You know how tight everyone is here at the castle.”
I couldn’t disagree with his reasoning. I wondered if Victoria might be smitten with Sir Dwayne—as everyone else seemed to be. It seemed odd that she hadn’t asked about the investigation into Princess Isabelle’s death.
I went to check on Bill. He was still sleeping it off. Chase and I agreed that we’d take our lunch breaks together and visit Rita at the hospital. I went back to the Dungeon to change out of my Village clothes and into jeans and a tank top. I grabbed some clothes for Chase and went to meet him at Peter’s Pub where we’d be closer to the Main Gate.
We didn’t eat at Peter’s though. As soon as Chase had changed clothes, we left the Village and stopped at our favorite burger place from the ‘outside’ world.
“Now if you really want to do something good for the Village,” he said. “You’d talk the king and queen into having a cheeseburger place.”
I laughed. “The queen likes you better. Maybe you can talk her into it.”
“Methinks the Village will never have a cheeseburger heaven along the cobblestones. We’ll have to sneak out occasionally in our street clothes to eat such as this.” He took a big bite of his burger and washed it down with soda.
“Probably just as well.” I sipped some of my chocolate shake. “We don’t need the fat and cholesterol.”
“I think the story Victoria told us at the castle is going to stick, Jessie. I talked to a few other members of Isabelle’s retinue who saw Dwayne come in at the same time last night. I called Detective Almond. They probably won’t hold him—unless we press charges against him.”
I munched a few fries. “What do you think?”
He shrugged. “I think they should lock him up and throw away the key. He was holding a gun on both of us. He could have hurt you.”
“But he shot himself. Maybe that atones for it.”
“I don’t think so. If I wouldn’t have shown up, no telling where you’d be right now. Maybe he didn’t plan to hurt you, but he had a gun. I think he deserves whatever he gets.”
“That’s the police training talking,” I argued. “Sir Dwayne was desperate. I kind of blame myself because I told the police I’d seen him with Rita. That didn’t make him guilty of anything.”
Chase pointed at me with a French fry. “If we don’t press charges against him, he’ll walk, and what happens next time he gets desperate? I’m going to tell Detective Almond that I want to charge him. I guess it’s up to you if you don’t.”
I couldn’t believe he could be so one-sided about it. I could clearly see Sir Dwayne’s position. “Maybe it’s because you’ve never had someone suspect you of something you didn’t do. It makes you desperate, and you do stupid things.”
“So you won’t back me up on this? It’s going to look lame if one of us presses charges and the other one doesn’t.”
“I’m sorry. I know what he did was wrong, but if he isn’t guilty of hurting Rita . . .”
“We don’t know about Isabelle yet,” he reminded me.
“That’s the way I feel.” I knew I was being stubborn about it, but I didn’t want to see Sir Dwayne go to jail if he didn’t really hurt anyone.
“Okay. If that’s the way you feel.”
We finished eating in silence, and then Chase drove to the hospital.
Rita was in good spirits, despite her bruises and cuts. She was sitting up against several pillows, holding court for her friends more regally than Queen Olivia in her throne room.
When she saw us, her eyes narrowed. “Chase, if you’re here to question me about what happened, you might as well go. I don’t remember anything. Whoever it was attacked me did it from behind with something hard, like a baseball bat. After that first hit in the head, I didn’t know anything until I woke up here.”
Chase leaned over her and carefully kissed her cheek. “I’m not here to ask questions. How are you feeling?”
I put our balloons that
we’d brought from the hospital gift shop on the table beside her.
“I’m sorry.” Rita wiped a tear away. “The police have asked me so many questions. I just want to go home. No telling what’s happening in my kitchen. I’ll be hearing about it for weeks.”
There were several knaves, a few varlets, and three or four madmen there with her. Two of the serving wenches from the castle were also present. Everyone tried to keep the conversation upbeat. Mostly we talked about which of the new actors would make the cut. Everyone had their favorite.
“I heard Sir Dwayne was arrested.” Rita shrugged off the lightweight discussion. “Do they think he killed Isabelle?”
“I don’t know,” Chase admitted. “He pulled a gun on me and Jessie. I think he could be capable of killing Isabelle.”
Rita started crying. “He’s not like that. You have to talk to the police for him. They’ll listen to you.”
Chase glanced at me. I grinned back and stuck out my tongue.
“We’ll have to see how the investigation goes,” he said. “Everything is up in the air right now. We should know something more later today or tomorrow. Sir Dwayne was trying to get out of the Village, Rita. He wasn’t acting like an innocent man.”
“All right,” she said softly. “I know you’ll do the best you can to help him, Chase. Thank you.”
It was only a few minutes later that a nurse came and shooed us all out of Rita’s hospital room. It was fun walking down the hall with the costumed knaves, varlets, and others. Everyone stared and whispered. Kids laughed and pointed.
Chase and I didn’t fit in with the group, but that was only on the outside. We were all part of the crazy group from the Ren Faire, as I’d heard one woman whisper as we went by.
We said goodbye at the outside door after Chase had offered everyone else a ride back to the Village. The group was out on their day off, and headed for the beach.
“Don’t say it.” Chase took out his car keys. “What is it with Sir Dwayne that you and Rita want to defend him?”
“Well, Rita’s in love with him. I’m just not willing to put him in prison for what happened today.”
As we walked into the parking deck, Chase put his arms around me and held me close. “That could have been you that was shot today, Jessie. I can’t even think about it. I wish I’d had the chance to kick Sir Dwayne around some this morning before the police got there. Do you understand that?”
“I do.” I slid my fingers through his hair. “I love you too. I was worried about you when you came out of the apartment. I was hoping he and I would get out without you seeing us. I wanted to protect you.”
He kissed me. “I love you for that, but next time I’ll do what my gut tells me and take care of the problem myself.”
“Don’t even say that,” I urged him. “You’re not a real police officer. You just play one in the Village. You’re a lawyer and a horse lover. You like to twirl spaghetti on your fork. If this starts taking you over, we’ll leave the Village—or at least become craft people. I won’t let you become like Detective Almond.”
“Okay.” He hugged me close, finally seeming to understand my distress. “I don’t see that happening, but we’ll do it your way—at least for now. I love you.”
“I love you too, Sir Bailiff. But I would love you as much if you carved wooden horses too.”
We finished the walk to our car with our arms around each other. I hoped I was right about not pressing charges against Sir Dwayne. I hoped I wouldn’t be sorry later.
Chapter Seventeen
When we got back to the Village, we changed clothes and went our separate ways. Chase had several calls from his security people. I wanted to check on Bill again.
There was a huge afternoon crowd on the cobblestones. The line for hatchet throwing near the bakery had to be directed away from the Main Gate so more visitors could get in. It was the same everywhere, with long lines of visitors waiting for the next act at the Dutchman’s Stage as well as Stage Caravan.
I checked at the tiny house that Fred and Bill had been sharing. Neither one of them were there. On a hunch, I walked toward the new shop that was all but ready for Bill’s amazing talents. The big blue/green sign that read Bewitching Boots glittered in the sunlight.
I saw Bill through the window. He was seated at his big worktable. I went inside and looked around. The construction crew had done a great job on the downstairs shop area. I hoped the upstairs living space was as good. Hundreds of pairs of boots hung on the walls, and sandals filled space on the shelves.
“Are you feeling better?” I asked him.
“Thanks, Jessie. I am.” He smiled, but there was something missing from his usual happy spirit. “I’ve been sitting here looking at my leather and patterns. I can’t figure out what to do with them. It’s all left me now. I think the elf magic was the only thing that made me a cobbler. Without it, I’m nothing.”
I sat at the table with him. “I’m sure it will be fine once you feel better.” I didn’t want to encourage his belief that elf magic was all that was important about him—especially since I’d convinced the Village to build this shop and apartment.
“Look.” He took off the red cap he wore. “I can’t even wiggle my ears anymore. My hands are shaking. I don’t know how to read my own patterns. I’m sorry I’ve let you down.”
“Don’t worry about me. Take some time to get yourself together. Maybe if you play around with your patterns and materials, it will all come back to you.”
If not, we’ll go visit Madame Lucinda again and get your elf magic back.
He still had time to recover before we took that drastic step, but I needed my cobbler back again. If it meant he had to restore his magic, so be it.
With nothing much to do since the museum was closed, I wandered up to the Field of Honor to watch the next joust.
The bleachers were packed with visitors. Each side of the field had their own cheerleader who was explaining how the scoring worked and who the visitors should cheer for. I was standing on the side designated for the King’s Champion. The other side of the field would shout for the Black Knight.
I saw Chase near the royal grandstand as I watched the king’s procession of jugglers, fools, and gentlemen ascend the stairs so they could look down on the proceedings from their box high above the field. I tried to catch Chase’s eye, but he was already moving away. It looked as though some of his new knights would joust that day.
Wanting a better view, and a chance to hang around with my husband, I skirted around the edge of the fence as both sides of the field were practicing their cheers. Something was wrong. I didn’t see the Black Knight, or any of his followers, on the field or behind the grandstand. Usually this was a bigger group than the king or queen’s retinues. The Black Knight was more popular than whoever jousted for the royals.
“What’s up?” I asked Chase when I’d finally reached him.
“It looks like Charlie isn’t going to make the joust. He was pulled over for speeding on Highway 17. They’re arresting him for going over a hundred.”
“On the main road going through Myrtle Beach?” I shook my head. “How is that even possible? Traffic is always bumper to bumper through there.”
“I don’t know—but you know him. If there’s a way to do something dangerous, he’ll find it.”
“Are they cancelling the joust?”
“No. Too many visitors.” He started walking toward the stables and the knights’ dressing area.
“You? You’re going to be the Black Knight? You haven’t seriously jousted in forever. You might get hurt.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He grinned. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m jousting against all the newbies I’ve been training. Maybe I can manage to stay on my horse, ancient rider that I am.”
I followed him into the Black Knight’s dressing room. It was clearly marked with a huge black star on the door. “That’s not what I meant. I’m sure you can still joust. You do it ever
y day in training. But on the field is different.”
“I’ll try to take that into account, milady. Thank you. I have to get dressed now.”
“Let me help you. I’ll be your squire. I’m sure none of Charlie’s squires are around. I know how to do this.”
“Okay.” He shrugged as he removed his leather vest and loose-fitting shirt. “Fetch me my undergarments, wench.”
I found the white T-shirts the jousters wore under their armor. Charlie and Chase were about the same size. I also found the britches Charlie wore, but Chase decided to wear what he had.
The armor worn by the knights in the Village wasn’t as heavy as what the real knights wore during the Middle Ages. It was really made more to be attractive than protective. The Black Knight’s armor was black (not surprising), and very shiny. His squire did a good job taking care of it.
Mostly the knights who jousted only wore the headpiece and breastplate as tokens of who they were. The helm had a visor and an elaborate comb on the top that included black and red feathers. Chase also wore the gorget neckpiece above the breastplate. He decided against the pauldrons that were the protective shoulder pieces, but wore the gauntlets.
“What about the plackart?” I asked about the midsection piece below the breastplate.
“No. It’s too hot for that.” He pulled up the hood that he’d wear under the headpiece.
“If you take a hit lower than the breastplate, you’ll be sorry.”
“You’re kind of bossy for a squire.” He smiled at me, and gave me a quick kiss. “If my new recruits can hit any part of me, they’ll be lucky.”
“If you don’t have any faith in them why are you letting them joust so soon?”
“Because they need the experience.”
He had me pin on the black cape that accentuated his identity. I offered to get his lances. Are you using a sword?”
“Not really, but I’d like the scabbard for show.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead. “It’s too hot for jousting in the afternoon.”
“You should mention that at the next meeting in the royal throne room.” I grabbed the three lances that flew his black standard.