[Fools' Guild 08] - The Parisian Prodigal

by Alan Gordon

  “I am sorry for it, senhor,” I said. “May God grant you the mercy you seek.”

  “Amen,” said Helga.

  * * *

  Sancho’s men hastily took a few steps back from us as Adhémar let us out.

  “Well, we’ve exposed ourselves to contagion just to find out that there was no reason to kill La Rossa,” said Sancho.

  “We know more than we did, but not as much as we need to,” I said.

  “It’s not inheritance, politics, scandal, money, or vengeance,” said Theo. “What’s left?”

  “Hatred,” I said.

  “Whose hatred for whom?” asked Theo.

  “Let’s go to the bordel,” I suggested.

  “Hooray,” said one of Sancho’s men.

  We walked down the path to the bordel.

  “Oh, look who’s back,” I said.

  Carlos was sitting at his post, his eye black, his jaw wrapped in a dirty kerchief.

  “Mine,” said Theo. He sauntered up to Carlos, who glared but did not rise. “Women,” said Theo. “Nothing but trouble, but what are you going to do, eh? Heard mine have been causing you some inconvenience.”

  Carlos said nothing.

  Theo squatted down, looked him in the eyes and smiled. “So far,” he said, “you have been defeated in single combat by my wife and my elder daughter. Next up is Portia. She’s only sixteen months old, but she is a fearsome hair-puller and bites like a wolf. My money would be on her.”

  Sancho and his men snickered while Carlos stayed in his seat.

  Theo stopped smiling. He reached out with one finger and laid it on the kerchief binding Carlos’s jaw.

  “Or,” he said softly, “I could be the next member of the family to take you on.”

  He tapped the guard’s jaw with his finger. Hard. Carlos winced.

  “Don’t give me a reason,” said Theo.

  He stood, opened the door, and beckoned to us.

  “What is this?” cried the Abbess as we trooped into the front parlor.

  “Forgive us, Abbess, we won’t be here long,” I said. “Husband, if you look at her feet one more time, I will make certain that you will be of no use to any woman anywhere ever again.”

  “Feet? She has those, too?” exclaimed Theo innocently.

  “Right,” I said. “Sancho, I want you to show me where everyone was when Julie met Baudoin. Your men will be Baudoin and Hue, I will be Julie, and you, the Abbess and my husband will be yourselves.”

  “Who will I be?” asked Helga.

  “Just stand out of the way,” I said. “Position them, Sancho.”

  “All right,” said Sancho. “I came in first, so I moved all the way to the right side, about here.”

  He stood at the far end of the room, in front one of the red cushioned chairs.

  “Baudoin came in behind me,” he continued. “With Hue behind him. They ended up side by side in the middle.”

  He waved the two men over, and they stood side by side, taking the time to run their eyes over the Abbess’s body.

  “And I was right here, just to the right of the door,” said Theo, taking up his position. “The Abbess came through the door from the hall, so she was directly opposite me.”

  “Please make your entrance,” I asked her.

  “I am no puppet to be manipulated so!” she said indignantly.

  “Best do it, Domina,” advised Sancho, his fingers rattling the hilt of his sword.

  She gave him a look filled with hate, then went out into the hallway and came back in.

  “She came across to me first, then went to Baudoin,” said Sancho, motioning her into the room.

  “Then the Count of Foix came down,” said Theo.

  “Oh, I want to be him!” said Helga, and she ran out, then came back, her cheeks puffed out and her arms making large ovals at her sides. The men chuckled in appreciation.

  “He recommends La Rossa to Baudoin, then leaves,” said Sancho.

  “That was the signal for you to tell La Rossa to get information from Baudoin, wasn’t it?” I asked the Abbess.

  She nodded curtly.

  “The Abbess goes to fetch Julie,” I said. “Before we do that, did all of you remain where you are?”

  “As far as I can remember,” said Sancho.

  “Oc, we did,” said Theo.

  “Who did Julie look at first? Who did she speak to?”

  “The Abbess came in and announced her,” remembered Théo. “I saw her while she was still in the hall, but she wasn’t paying me any mind. I don’t think the others could see her until she came intp the room. Would that be right, gentlemen?”

  “I can’t see into the hall from this angle,” said one of the soldiers.

  “Me, neither,” said the other.

  “And Sancho is past all of you,” I noted. “So, she comes in.”

  “She’s smiling,” said Sancho. “She looks at Baudoin.”

  “But then something went off about that smile,” said Theo. “Did you mark it? It became something mocking.”

  “I did notice that,” said Sancho. “I just thought that was her style. Something the customers like.”

  “Is it?” I asked the Abbess.

  “Not in this establishment,” she replied. “Men are respected here. At least, to their faces.”

  “Curious,” I said. “Stay at your places. I will be Julie.”

  “Too short,” said Sancho.

  “Too much clothing,” grinned Theo.

  “Enough,” I said.

  I stepped back into the hallway.

  “Announce me!” I called.

  “This is ridiculous,” said the Abbess.

  “Do it,” said Sancho.

  She sighed.

  “Senhors,” she said. “May I present—La Rossa!”

  I glided into the room, saw Theo, ignored him, and turned my attention to the soldier standing in for Baudoin. I smiled at him.

  The two soldiers smiled back at me.

  “I think I have discovered the problem,” I announced.

  “What is it?” asked Theo.

  “The problem is that the two of you are idiots,” I said.

  “That is a problem,” said Sancho to Theo.

  “And the problem with the diagnosis is that there is no known cure,” added Theo. “How does our being idiots help?”

  “It makes me feel better about myself,” I said. “Sancho, tell both of your counts to meet us in the courtyard of the château. Domina Abbess, I must ask you to join us.”

  “Join you?” protested the Abbess. “I’ve never been to the Château Narbonnais in daylight. I cannot go there dressed like this.”

  “Throw a cloak over that gown and have Sylvie attend you,” I said. “You might pass for a lady. Sancho will guarantee your safe conduct.”

  “My men will escort you,” he said.

  The men lit up with happiness.

  “Anyone else?” asked Sancho.

  “Might as well get the rest of the entourage,” I said. “Comminges, Sabran, the viguier. Oh, and a few more guards and the bade, in case things get out of hand. Good. Shall we be on our way?”

  “Wait,” said Sancho.

  We turned to look at him.

  “I wish to speak to La Navarra,” he said to the Abbess. “Fetch her down for me.”

  “This is hardly the time, even if you have the money,” objected Theo.

  “There will be ample time for you to ridicule me later,” said Sancho. “Get her right away.”

  The Abbess shook her head, but complied. A minute later, she returned with the Lady of the Talons.

  “What’s going on?” asked La Navarra, glancing across the room. “You know I will take only one at a time.”

  “Not anymore,” said Sancho. “Hear me out. I have come to realize in the past few days that life can end abruptly, and if we wait for happiness, it may slip our grasp. I want you to pack your things and-come with me. You will stay in my rooms tonight, and in the morning, we shall be m
arried, if that is agreeable to you.”

  She blinked. “But I am a prostitute,” she said.

  “Not anymore,” he replied.

  “You would marry a woman who has slept with men for money?”

  “I am a mercenary,” said Sancho. “I have done things for money that are far worse. You have given pleasure for pay, I have taken lives for pay. I am in no position to judge you. But I want you for my own. Exclusively.”

  “You would marry me?”

  “On the morrow, my word upon it.”

  “Can he be trusted?” she asked, turning to the rest of us. “Today, I trust him on all matters,” I said.

  “All right,” said La Navarra, suddenly radiant. “I will pack right now. It won’t take long.”

  She skipped up the stairs.

  “Great,” sighed the Abbess. “That makes two girls I have to replace.”

  “Are you sure you know what you are doing?” asked Theo. “Not at all,” said Sancho. “That’s why it will be fun. Now, I believe that we all have an appointment at the château?”

  “Right,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 17

  Is everybody here?” called Claudia from the center of the courtyard. “Who are we waiting for? The viguier?”

  “He’s coming now!” I shouted back. “Good day to you, Peire Roger!”

  I was standing next to Count Raimon in the section of the courtyard between the Grand Tower and the Palace of Justice. Comminges, Foix, and Sabran were with us, along with a number of guards and attendants. The viguier emerged from the Grand Tower, looking irritated.

  “Why am I being interrupted for this?” he demanded. “Because I said so,” said Count Raimon, who was standing next to me. “Now, get over here with the rest of us.”

  “Of course, Dominus,” said the viguier, bowing immediately.

  “Excellent,” said Claudia, surveying the gathered group. “Normally, my husband would be leading the festivities, but he lost a wager to me today.”

  “Not yet, I haven’t,” I called.

  “What is the nature of the wager?” asked Count Raimon. “Why, as to who will be the first to find Julie’s murderer,” she said.

  “Who is Julie?” asked the count.

  “La Rossa, the prostitute found stabbed to death next to Baudoin,” I said.

  “Oh, was that her name?” he asked. “Never knew. Get on with it, Domina Fool.”

  “Very good, Dominus,” she said. “Does everybody know everybody? They do? Wonderful. Now, in order to properly exonerate Baudoin, we must reveal the murderer. I think that should be done in front of the prisoner, don’t you, Dominus?”

  “You had better make good on all of this, Domina Fool,” said the count in a low tone.

  “I shall,” promised Claudia. “Have your men stand ready. The murderer is dangerous. Well, all murderers are dangerous by definition, but this one … anyhow, alert your men.”

  “Baudoin will be in chains,” said the count. “There will be no danger.”

  “Baudoin will be in chains, therefore not dangerous,” said Claudia. “Yet there may be danger from the murderer. Would you be so kind as to bring him up, Dominus?”

  “I am already confused,” the count murmured to me. “Try living with that all the time,” I murmured back.

  The count nodded at the bade, who entered the Palace of Justice. Sancho stood by with a squad, swords out.

  We all stared at the entrance. Finally, the bade and two guards emerged, Baudoin in chains between them. Hue followed behind them.

  The moment he was outside, Baudoin stopped and took a deep breath of fresh air. Then he looked up at the sky, searching for the sun which was emerging from behind a cloud. He nodded with satisfaction, then looked over the crowd until he saw me. He caught my eye and smiled.

  “Good day to you, Senhor Baudoin,” said Claudia. “We have not met. I am Domina Gile, the fool.”

  He turned at the sound of his name, but looked slightly blank. Hue stepped to his shoulder and translated. Baudoin’s expression became one of comprehension. He whispered something to Hue, who chuckled.

  “He said, he is honored to meet the wife of Tan Pierre,” said Hue. “And he extends his condolences for your tragic marriage.”

  Claudia laughed merrily.

  “He jokes while in chains,” commented Count Raimon. “One must admire his style.”

  “Give him my thanks,” said Claudia still laughing. “Few are wise enough to see the tragedy of two fools in love.”

  Hue translated.

  “Doesn’t your wife speak langue d’oïl?” asked the count. “Fluently,” I said. “I expect she’s playing to the locals.”

  “He says that he now understands the farce inside his own tragic circumstances,” said Hue.

  “Well said,” applauded Claudia. “And well translated. You must be Senhor Hue.”

  “I am, Domina,” said Hue.

  “Your langue d’oc is excellent,” said Claudia. “Where are you from?”

  “Rouen, Domina.”

  “Never been there,” said Claudia. She turned to face me. “My lord and master, please step forward for a moment.”

  I immediately stepped forward. There was laughter from the crowd, which puzzled me, as I had not done anything that I considered amusing. Then I noticed that the count had kept pace with me.

  “I beg your pardon, Dominus,” I said. “I thought she was speaking to me.”

  “She was looking at me,” said the count. “And she did say lord and master.”

  “She was looking at me,” I said. “I am, as her husband, her lord and master.”

  “But I am lord and master over all in Toulouse,” said the count.

  “Whom were you addressing?” I said to Claudia.

  “You, my husband,” she replied.

  “You see?” I said.

  “My error,” he said. “An easy mistake to make. You were standing right next to me. I thought she was looking at me.”

  “That’s the problem with you important people,” Claudia said.

  “Is it?” replied the count in a tone that carried menace beneath its surface.

  “The problem with you important people is that you think that you are important all of the time,” said Claudia. “Whereas the truth is, you’re important only some of the time.”

  “But still important more than the unimportant people are,” argued the count.

  “Precisely,” agreed Claudia. “However, there are times when the unimportant people, who are unimportant only because they aren’t as important as often as the important people, can still be more important than the important people.”

  “I got lost somewhere in the middle of that,” I confessed.

  “My husband, because he is insane, decided that Baudoin was not the murderer of Julie,” said my wife. “He decided to find out who was.”

  This produced a number of exclamations from those present.

  “He brought me into it because someone with sense should be involved,” continued Claudia. “But the flaw in his investigation was that he assumed that Baudoin was an important man.”

  She turned to the prisoner.

  “Senhor Baudoin, are you an important man?”

  Hue whispered. Baudoin smiled and whispered back.

  “He used to think so,” said Hue. “But he was recently disabused of the notion.”

  “It’s all relative,” said Claudia. “Speaking of which, being a relative is what makes you important, isn’t it?”

  “He says he had hoped that it would,” said Hue. “Dominus,” said Claudia, turning back to the count. “I come before you to speak for the unimportant. The women. The servants. The whores. The dead. I beseech you, will you hear my petition on their behalf?”

  “At this moment, Domina, you are the most important person in this courtyard,” said the count.

  “Very gallant, but hardly true,” she said. “Will you admit two more unimportant people to this courtyard? I will vouch
for them.”

  “Very well,” said the count.

  Claudia turned with a dancer’s flourish and clapped her hands twice, the sounds echoing about the walls.

  “Any idea where this is going?” muttered the count. “None whatsoever,” I said admiringly. “But I have a feeling that I lost this wager when I first set eyes upon her.”

  “Lucky man,” said the count. “Domina Fool, who are those women?”

  “Ah, you could not be expected to know them,” said Claudia as Sancho’s men led the Abbess and Sylvie through the gates. “I will ask the Count of Foix to make the introductions.”

  The Count of Foix turned dark red with anger. “You go too far, woman!” he said.

  “Manners, manners, senhor,” she admonished him. “You should not be condescending merely because they are your employees. However, since it falls to the fool to maintain courtesy in this court, allow me to present the Abbess and her servant, Sylvie.”

  The two women bowed low.

  I had the distinct impression that the Count of Toulouse and the Abbess were already acquainted, but neither let on.

  “Greetings, ladies,” said the count. “You may rise.”

  They straightened, the Abbess looking steadily at the men, many of whom shifted uncomfortably. Sylvie looked around in wonderment. She had probably never been here before.

  “Now, Dominus,” said Claudia. “Here is where things should—“

  “Pelfort!” screamed Sylvie in shock. “Pelfort! How can you be alive?”

  She was staring at Hue. He looked back at her in horror.

  “No,” he whispered.

  “Pelfort, where is your master?” she screamed, tottering toward him. “Where is Guerau de Planes?”

  “Silence, you old witch!” he screamed, drawing his sword.

  He ran at the old woman, who stood frozen in fear. I was too far away. The two nearest guards were too slow.

  But Claudia wasn’t. She went in low, crashing into the side of his knee. He swung, and my heart stopped, but the sword passed harmlessly over her head as the two of them tumbled to the ground. He screamed in agony, and she rolled away and sprang to her feet, a bloodied dagger in her hand. He lay bleeding onto the flat stones of the courtyard, the back of his left thigh sliced open.

  “I suggest, senhor,” said Claudia to Hue, “that when pretending to be from the north, you do not speak langue d’oc like a native Toulousan. Sancho, he’ll need a surgeon if you want him to talk.”