by Joyce Lavene
Chase walked with me. “Good news about them releasing Canyon, huh? He doesn’t take the job as seriously as you do.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“Good for me.” He put his arm around my waist. “Come on, Jessie. You can’t really want to be the Bailiff. No one wants that job.”
I stopped walking. “Why not? It’s an honorable position.”
“So is being a knight, and it’s a lot more fun.”
“Sometimes you have to think about something other than fun.” I started walking again.
“I suppose so. But does it have to be you thinking about it? Can’t we just let Canyon do what he was doing before?”
“Why can’t you see that this is important?”
“Why does it matter to you?”
Oh no. We were having a fight, and we hadn’t been together long enough in this place to have a fight. I couldn’t risk that part of the equation. Chase and I couldn’t break up.
“You’re right,” I agreed with him. “It would be better for Canyon to take over the job again.”
What was I doing? I was always honest with Chase—at least about the important things.
He smiled at me. “That’s my girl. We’ll be a lot happier without that radio between us.”
I gritted my teeth and agreed with him. We had to get the murders resolved before Chase and I had a major meltdown.
Chapter Twenty
I still had to coax the woman off the elephant or at least try to. She’d obviously been out in the sun too long. She wanted to ride the elephant home.
“My house is close by, and I have a two-car garage,” she rationalized. “It’s mean for you to keep the elephant here. I can take better care of him.”
While I was discussing it with her, two of the handlers got up beside her and lifted her off the animal. I’d requested a security guard from the Main Gate, and he escorted her from the Village.
“Thanks, Lady Bailiff.” The elephant handler saluted me.
“You’re welcome, good sir,” I returned.
The line of visitors waiting moved forward slightly as the next children got on the elephant’s back.
“Good work,” Chase said. “But I like you better as my squire. Will you come back to the job?”
“Of course,” I replied with a quick smile.
It wasn’t what I wanted, but all I wanted was to go home. I didn’t have time to argue with him. We had to solve the fairy’s murder.
We stopped at the blacksmith’s shop near the Field of Honor. Chase was having new shoes put on his horse. I watched as he and Phil from the Sword Spotte talked about swords and knives. Phil was there to oversee the work being done on his new line of swords.
I noticed a large pile of armor in the corner of the area where the forge was. It was almost too hot in there to even pay attention to what they were saying. Still that pile of armor bothered me. Why was it there?
I asked Hans Von Rupp, the blacksmith. He wiped his brow with a blue handkerchief and continued working, banging on metal in the fiery pit.
“The knights bring it in to be repaired. It’s not thick metal, so I can take out some dents and patch holes in it. It’s cheaper than buying new armor.”
“Thanks.”
I wondered why the knight who’d had his armor thrown in the trash didn’t do this instead. It probably would have taken out the dents that had occurred while he was killing Apple Blossom. Was there something else about the armor that would have given him away?
“Most of the knights at the field use interchangeable armor,” Hans said. “Only a few can afford their own armor, like Chase. They usually have something inscribed on it that identifies it as theirs. Chase has his lion on the inside of his chest plate and other pieces. Every well-to-do knight in the Village has their own inscription.”
“Really? Like what?”
“Karl has an eagle inscribed in his armor. Milton has a troll in his.” Hans took a sword out of the fire. “It has to be on the inside. Everything on the outside has to be plain so they can fight for whoever they serve each day.”
“And the squires who serve them would know which inscription belonged to each knight.”
“That’s right.” Hans grinned. “Thinking about getting some armor, Lady Bailiff?”
“She might be if she was going to remain working as the Bailiff.” Chase had finished his conversation with Phil. “But Canyon is coming back, and he’ll take over those responsibilities.”
“Probably for the best.” Hans nodded.
The horse was ready to go. We walked him up to the Field of Honor. Chase talked about everything except the important things. Those things burned in me. It was all I could do to stop myself from telling him how wrong he was.
Once we reached the stable, he gave his horse to one of the stable boys—or girls. Sometimes it was hard to tell which they were. He slung his arm around my shoulders. That was it.
“I can’t believe you told Hans I was giving up being Bailiff,” I accused.
“But you are,” he insisted. “You said you were going to let Canyon have his job back so we could spend more time together.”
I folded my arms across my chest and argued inside about fighting with Chase. It was wrong. If we broke up, I might never go home. I had to smile and take it on the chin.
But I couldn’t.
“Don’t you get it? Canyon is never going to figure out who killed the squire or the fairy. He doesn’t care enough to bother. I’m not giving him the radio or the title until I know what happened.”
“I thought you were okay with it,” Chase said. “You worry too much. Everything will be fine. If Canyon doesn’t figure it out, the police will. I don’t know why you’re so upset.”
I wanted to give him a rational explanation, but the only one I had wouldn’t make sense to him. “What about those two men who attacked us last night? Is Canyon going to take care of that too?”
“It was probably just someone fooling around. Come on. Lighten up.”
The radio squawked again. Someone had stolen all the chocolate walnut fudge from Frenchy’s. How was that even possible?
“They need me. I have to go.” I looked into the brown eyes that I loved so much, wishing I could see my Chase in them. But he was a different man. I had to face that.
He nodded and went toward the grandstand as I walked away. I looked back after starting down the hill from the field and saw him talking to Isabelle.
Did I only fall in love with Chase because he was the Bailiff?
“Well of course not.” Starshine responded to the question in my heart. “He’s a wonderful man—kind, compassionate—you love him for all his traits. Would it have mattered to you if he’d always stayed a knight working at the Field of Honor?”
“No. Of course not! But my Chase wouldn’t just let this go. He’d want to help, and he wouldn’t make stupid remarks about me being Bailiff.”
“You’re stressed,” she said. “You have too much going on in your head. I could send you on a trip to Tahiti for a break.”
“No. I’m not going anywhere until I go back to my Village. If you want to help, look for clues or forget I ever wished this stupid wish.”
I left her buzzing around outside Frenchy’s Fudge. I was hoping I could get a good description of the fudge thief, but Frenchy had taken care of it. He’d thrown one of the big, heavy blocks of fudge at the back of the thief’s head. It had taken him down. He was still out cold, half in and half out of the shop.
“Good work.” I shook his hand. “I’ll get him out of the Village.”
Frenchy still wasn’t happy with that outcome. “I want to press charges. Two blocks of fudge are ruined. I was up all night making it. I want him to go to prison.”
“He won’t go to prison for stealing fudge.” I tried to reason with him. “What about Vegetable Justice?”
“Vegetable Justice? I want to press real charges against him,” he yelled. “He’s a thief. In other places, they’d
cut off his hands.”
I wasn’t going through all the trouble to set up Vegetable Justice if Frenchy wasn’t happy with it. I called the police department and asked them to have someone meet me at the Main Gate. Stealing fudge would be shoplifting like it was in any department store in the outside world. The kid could get thirty days in the county jail.
“I’m sure the police will let you know when his trial comes up,” I said to Frenchy, pulling on the young man’s arm as he came around. He wasn’t older than his early twenties. “Come on. You’re about to be banned from the Village.”
The thief came along peacefully. We followed the cobblestones to the Main Gate where visitors were streaming in.
“I just wanted some fudge,” he told me. “I didn’t know that man would get so upset.”
“If you don’t want to see it happen again, I suggest you stop stealing.”
“Can’t you just let this slide? I’ll leave. You don’t have to turn me over to the police.”
He was so young and kind of cute. Like a puppy. I almost did what he asked.
“No, she’s not letting you go,” a strident voice said from behind me. “You’re the same kid who stole that dagger from my place yesterday. I hope the police put you away for a good long while.”
It was Daisy Reynolds, the sword maker. She was short and round and always wore a silver breastplate with the image of a phoenix on it. She ignored conventional Renaissance garb for a woman. Her britches were short, and her muscled arms stuck out from her armor.
What would she be like here? She was one of my favorite people back home. But here she wasn’t with Bart. That probably meant she was different too.
I handed my charge over to the officer who met me at the side gate. The young man didn’t say anything after seeing Daisy. He went along with the officer, a glum expression on his poor, cute face.
“Now,” Daisy said with a big smile. “We can get some ale, and you can tell me why you sent Bart looking for me.”
I was so happy to see her with her no-nonsense attitude, Kewpie-doll red lips, and badly dyed blond hair, I even offered to buy two ales—or at least get them on credit.
We sat in Peter’s Pub, out of the hot sun, and sipped our cool drinks.
“So?” she began. “What’s with the matchmaking thing between me and Bart? And why him of all people? I’ve never liked him. Who can like a man who has so much potential and locks it away in an office every day?”
“I just have a feeling about the two of you. He’s probably not so bad if you get him out of that awful suit.”
She giggled, reminding me of a much larger version of my fairy godmother.
“Jessie, you’re a bad girl. No wonder Chase likes you.”
I sighed when she said it and took another sip of ale.
“Like that, huh?”
“We had a blow up this morning about me being Bailiff. He wants me to give the job back to Canyon. I’m not ready to do that.”
“Just stand your ground,” she advised. “And don’t let it bother you. He’ll come around. Or he won’t. If not, he’s not the man I think he is.”
I told Daisy about the murder investigation. “I just found out that every piece of armor that belongs to a knight in the Village is marked with their particular sigil.”
She nodded. “That’s right. When I make armor, I have to consult the Big Book of Knights if they forget to tell me what their sigil is. It’s a big deal around here.”
“The Big Book of Knights?”
“Yes. They keep it up at the castle. No two knights can have the same sigil. Of course that’s the upper crust. The knights who are only visiting or rent their armor are different.”
“That could be my answer. I couldn’t find out whose armor the police had confiscated from Canyon. I knew it wasn’t his—it’s the good stuff. The squires didn’t know who Jordan was working for when he threw it away. But if we take a look at the sigil inside, we could compare it to the Big Book of Knights, and we’d know who it belonged to.”
Daisy ordered another round of ale. “I don’t know. What you just said started to give me a headache right away.”
I laughed and hugged her, even though I knew she hated it. “I’m going to the police station to take a look, and I’ll compare it to the Big Book of Knights. Maybe then this will be over.”
“Sounds good. I’d go with you, but uniforms and I don’t get along. Let me know when you get back. I think Bart is in charge of the Big Book of Knights. Maybe I could help persuade him to let us take a peek.”
I debated about changing clothes before I went to the station. They tended to act different with Rennies. I needed information, not harassment. I’d given my street suit to the laundry at the castle. I didn’t know if it was ready.
But I had not considered the efficiency of the castle staff.
By the time I got back, my suit was hanging in Chase’s closet, clean and pressed, and the rooms were clean again. I changed quickly and did what I could with my hair before looking under every piece of furniture for shoes. I finally found them in the bathroom of all places. I was as ready as I could be to go into the real world.
Someone came into the rooms without knocking. Thinking it could be whoever had broken in earlier—I hid in the alcove behind the bathroom door and waited. It only took a minute for me to figure out that it was Chase and not an intruder. He’d probably come back to change clothes before lunch. Sometimes the heat and dust got the better of all the knights.
I was about to let him know that I was there when the door to the suite opened again. This time it was Isabelle.
“I’m so glad I found you,” she said in a tearful voice. “I just hate that we’ve broken up, don’t you? It can’t be over between us, Chase. Not yet.”
“Isabelle. You know I care about you. I always will. But there’s something really special about me and Jessie together. Maybe it doesn’t make sense—I don’t always understand it.”
“What do you see in her? She’s tall and gawky. She dresses like a man. And what in the world makes her hair look that way? Why would you rather be with her when you could be with me?”
There were some not-so-subtle smooching sounds. I could imagine Isabelle winding her arms around Chase. I was glad I couldn’t see it.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I’m with her now. I don’t want to hurt you. Try to understand.”
“I understand,” she raged, knocking over something that shattered on the floor.
Like we didn’t have enough of that already.
“You won’t be happy with her,” she said. “And I won’t be waiting for you to crawl back to me. I hope you understand that, Chase Manhattan. You are officially out of my life.”
He didn’t say anything. The door closed. I wasn’t sure if I should admit that I’d heard what they’d said. I waited, feeling time ticking away for me to go to the police station and get back.
“You may as well come out now,” he said. “I guess Isabelle didn’t notice, but I see your Bailiff’s belt on the bed, Jessie.”
I came around the bathroom door. “Sorry. I didn’t know that would happen. I thought you might be the person who broke into our room.”
Chase wrapped his arms around me and kissed me for several moments.
“What was that for?” I asked breathlessly when I could.
“That was to say I’m sorry for being a jerk this morning. I let other things cloud my judgement.”
“Okay. You’re forgiven.”
“Where are you off to?”
I told him about looking up the individual sigils to be found on armor from knights in the Village. “Want to come?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter Twenty-one
It took much longer than I’d planned.
I was dressed, and then I wasn’t. Chase had to change clothes. The whole thing was much more complicated—and enjoyable—than I’d thought it would be.
Grabbing my cell phone, we were
finally on our way out of the castle when we ran into Canyon on his way back into the Village.
“Jessie!” He greeted me, wiping tears from his eyes. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
He came toward me with his arms open, and I sidestepped, grabbing Chase’s arm instead. He had to know how I felt and acknowledge it like Isabelle had.
“So that’s how it is.” His big blue eyes were pitiful. “Fine. I’m out of jail now. Somebody said you’ve been Bailiff while I was gone.” He glared at Chase.
“Not me.” Chase shrugged. “She’s your local law enforcement.”
“What? A girl can’t be the Bailiff.” Canyon snorted as he laughed. “That’s just weird.”
“Weird or not.” I bristled. “I have the radio and the belt. I’m the new Bailiff.”
Canyon was nearly lost for words. “Well I still have the Dungeon. I’m not moving out. I’m going to talk to the king, if I have to. I want my job back.”
“I guess we’ll see.” I walked by him, tugging Chase to walk with me.
I could feel Canyon watching us as we left. I had no doubt he would make good on his threats to get his job back. I had to make this work.
Chase and I stopped for lunch before we went to the police station. He was always hungry. The cheeseburgers, something we couldn’t get at the Village, were delicious. We’d sneak out regularly to stop at this one restaurant. It was our place.
After that, we went to talk to Detective Almond. He showed us the evidence room where the red and black armor had been stashed. Chase took it apart carefully as we searched for a sigil. I was worried that it might turn out to be another dead end, belonging to no one in particular.
But there it was, finally, inside the helm.
“A flower?” Detective Almond asked. “What’s the significance of that?”
“It’s a Scottish thistle.” I snapped a picture of it. “It’s been used by royalty forever. The thistle has been the national emblem of Scotland since a barefoot Viking stepped on one as he was sneaking up on the Scots army. He yelled so loud that the army woke up and defended themselves. Now it’s considered good luck.”