by Alan Gordon
“All right, so that part needs work,” I said hastily. “But she’s no ordinary apprentice. She’s fluent in nine languages, sings and plays beautifully, and is a superb actress and mimic. I can vouch for that.”
“Well, if you say so,” he said, somewhat dubiously. “Anyhow, that is not my business here.”
“What is your business?”
He straightened up and puffed out his chest. “Theophilos, I have traveled from the Guildhall to Venice, and by boat from Venice to Capodistria, and then ridden down the Adriatic coastline to this lovely town of Orsino, to ask you but a single question: how is your leg?”
“Is that personal or official?”
“Both.”
“Personally, it hurts like hell. Officially, I can no longer do a standing back flip, and I still limp fairly badly, but I am otherwise back to my old self.”
“Good,” he said, nodding. “Your report of your success here was duly noted. Father Gerald was so delighted, he was observed to kick up one heel. More cannot be expected of such an ancient. But you are back in his good graces.”
“Hooray for me. What does the Guild want?”
“Now, now, gossip before business. You know the rules.”
I debated with myself over whether or not I would intercept the next club flung in his direction. He pulled out a large handkerchief, opened it with a flourish, and placed it on the ground. He then sat upon it and leaned forward.
“You’ll never guess, my friend, who showed up at the court in Hagenau recently.”
“I haven’t been in Germany in years. Tell me.”
“Alexios.”
“Which Alexios?”
“Alexios of Constantinople. Son of the usurped and blinded Isaakios, former emperor. Nephew of the usurping and blinding Alexios the Third, current emperor. Alexios, who seeks to become Alexios the Fourth, the next emperor.”
“Which would be a neat trick, considering his father and uncle both live. When did he escape?”
“Sometime in the fall, we think.”
“And this was not the Guild’s doing?”
“By David’s lyre, no. The Guild has no interest in disrupting the Byzantine throne. The results are too unpredictable, and besides, they do a fine job of that all by themselves. The immediate agents who arranged his escape were Pisan, but we suspect his sister Irene was behind it. She’s married to Philip of Swabia, you know.”
“He escapes, goes north to big sister, and has a ready-made entry to the German court. What does that have to do with the Guild?”
“Well, there’s this little matter of the Crusade gathering in Venice.”
“Which is going to Constantinople, according to Domino.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Domino’s been the chief fool in Venice forever, and usually knows which way the wind’s blowing. But not everyone in the Guild thinks Constantinople is the intended target. There’s a whole lot of French and Flemish soldiers sworn to liberate the Holy Land, and nothing but the Holy Land. Then there are some who want to invade Egypt first, one infidel territory being just as good as the next. So, most of us thought Constantinople was a long shot. But Alexios’s arrival complicates matters. You know who else was at Hagenau? Boniface of Montferrat. Here the Guild is, making every effort to keep the Crusaders from slaughtering Christians, at the very least, and now the commander is meeting with the chief claimant to the Byzantine throne.”
“What’s the Guild doing about it?”
“The usual. The troubadours are in a tricky position. Unlike you, we can’t just go around making fun of our patrons. We’re supposed to be out there singing their praises. And if the particular lord is taking the Cross and swearing to bring an army with him, then we’re supposed to be out rousing the rabble. So, we roused them. Now that we’ve roused them, we’re trying to douse them. Lyrics that once glorified the noble quest now speak of the girl we leave behind. Some of our gallants are becoming homesick before they even depart.”
“Very good.”
“We’re also taking the opposite tack of inflaming their fervor to such a pitch that they must to Beyond-the-Sea immediately. Several hundred have skipped Venice altogether and dashed off to Apulia, which is doing a nice business in transporting them. They’ll arrive in inadequate numbers to fight the Mohammedans, while depriving their Venetian-bound comrades of their promised numbers. We’re hoping that not enough of them show up in Venice to justify the journey. In Venice itself, we’re spreading rumors that the Crusade is being subverted to Venetian ends. Some of those who came there because they took the Cross are now crying betrayal and going home.”
“Well done. But it won’t work. Venice has committed too much of its monies to this expedition. If they don’t get repaid with profit, they won’t be happy.”
“Agreed. And just when we were hoping everything might fall apart nicely, along comes little Alexios with his big requests. Oh, you should see how grown men and women weep to hear of his travels and travails. Fortunately, Rome won’t support him. Innocent may be one of the most conniving popes in recent memory, but even he won’t absolve an attack like this. Unfortunately, events have their own momentum, which is why the Guild wants you to go to Constantinople.”
I was waiting for it, I was expecting it, and he still managed to sneak it in and wallop me.
“Constantinople? Me? Now?” I almost shouted.
He looked at me and shook his head sadly. “Theo, you have to do better than one-word questions if you’re to uphold your reputation as a wit. But to respond in the same manner: Yes. You. Now.”
“But doesn’t the Guild have half a dozen people there already?”
“We did,” he replied.
Suddenly, I was afraid. “What happened to them?”
“We don’t know,” he said slowly. “That’s what we’d like you to find out. They’ve disappeared. All of them.”
“Dead?”
“We don’t know. We received word from Fat Basil in Thessaloniki. The troubadour riding the circuit from Constantinople reported that all of the fools had vanished without explanation. He left, saying he would try to find out what happened. That’s the last we heard.”
“When was this?”
“Maybe six or seven months ago.”
“Who did the Guild have working there?”
He counted on his fingers. “The dwarf brothers were with the Emperor. Thalia was with the Empress. Tiberius and Demetrios worked the streets, the Hippodrome, and the Great Palace. The troubadour was called Ignatius.”
“You’re using the past tense. About people that I know.”
“Then I hope that you may know them again. Thalia was a particular friend of yours, was she not?”
Some troubadours should stick to singing. When they talk, they just get people in trouble. I glanced over at Viola, but she was absorbed in her juggling, some distance away.
“When can you leave?” Tantalo asked.
“There’s a complication,” I said.
“What is it?”
“I’m married,’ I replied, indicating Viola. “Meet the Duchess.”
“Married?” he guffawed. “Well, my goodness. Congratulations, I suppose.” He turned to Viola. “And to you, Apprentice.” She nodded, and he turned back. “I guess…” Then his jaw slowly dropped in the first uncalculated expression I had ever seen on him. “When you said, “Duchess,” you meant … Good God, Theo, you’ve rejoined the gentry!”
“Dragged me down to his level, more the like,” said Viola.
He got up and swept his hat off in a superb bow.
“Forgive me, milady. Little did I know that such magnificence was consorting with such a lowly man as this.”
“You’re still funny-looking, and your horse still smells,” she replied, curtsying.
“Ha, ha, excellently put, milady,” he said, rolling his eyes at me. “Well, this is a priceless piece of news to take with me. I could dine out for a month on it at the Guildhall.”
“Fine, so long as you
don’t noise it about locally. As you might suspect, it was done in secret.”
“I’m certain of it. Last I heard, she was a recent widow and you were a bedridden cripple. Did she nurse you back to health?”
“She did.”
“Then you fell in love and married in secret. What a scandal!”
“There might have been a greater scandal had we not married,” I said. “And we had been in love for a long time. We just didn’t realize it.”
“Now she’s your apprentice. How much have you told her about the Guild?”
“Who we are. What we do.”
He sighed. “Is that all? After all these years, you’ll give up our secrets for love?”
“Because I trust her, and because she’ll become a member in due time.”
“But that takes years of training, Theo.”
“As I said, she has a head start. All she really needs is repertoire, juggling, and tumbling, and she’ll be ready for initiation.”
“I imagine she could give you a pretty good tumble if she wanted to,” Tantalo whispered, leering. Then he turned and caught another club directed at his noggin.
“Oops, again,” called Viola.
Tantalo flipped the club experimentally, then lofted it high over her head. She walked backward, gazing upward while keeping the other two clubs going in one hand. At the last moment, she tossed them high, cartwheeled backward, and caught all three. Tantalo and I applauded.
“All right, she does show some promise,” he said begrudgingly.
“In the meantime, she has taken the Oath of Apprenticeship and will honor it,” I said.
“How much does she really know about you?” he asked quietly.
“More than you do,” I said. “She knows my real name. I had to give it to the hermit who married us.”
“My word,” he said, impressed. “But there is quite a bit more to you than that.”
“True. I’ve promised one revelation for each wedding anniversary.”
“Then, milady, I wish you a long and happy life together,” he said, bowing again. “You’ll need it if you want to learn all of this fellow’s secrets.”
“Oh, I have a few of my own,” she replied.
“No doubt, no doubt. Well, Theo, you’re right. This is a complication.”
“Not necessarily,” said Viola.
I looked at her for a long moment.
“Will you excuse us?” I asked Tantalo.
He bowed and withdrew. I turned to my beloved. “What are you up to?”
“A good fool is ready for anything at any time,” she replied. “The answer is simple. I go with you.”
“Impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s dangerous. You have no idea what you’re getting into.”
Her face darkened. Always a warning signal, although one I usually catch too late. “I married you. I became an apprentice of the Fools’ Guild. I made both commitments knowing what they involved. I knew that at some point the Guild would be sending you on another mission. So, I’m going with you.”
“What about your children?”
“My opportunity to be their mother disappeared when my sister-in-law was appointed as their regent. Mark is a few years away from his independence. Once he has full power as Duke, maybe I’ll be allowed to be his mother again. But for now, I choose to be your wife rather than a useless appendage to my own family.”
“You may get killed in the process.”
“As may you. Don’t forget, I’ve already had the experience of sitting home while my first husband went sailing off to the Holy Land to fight Saladin. Years of wondering if he was coming back. I won’t do that again. I refuse to grow old waiting to see if you’ve survived. If you’re going to die, I want to be there.” She stopped. “That didn’t come out the way I meant it to.”
“Viola, this is no pampered life. A traveling jester lives on his wits and a handful of bronze. You’d be sleeping in haylofts if you’re lucky, and on the cold, hard ground if you’re not.”
She walked up to me and looked up into my eyes. “But I’ll be sleeping with you,” she said simply.
I thought about that for all of a second. “All right, you can come. But your training continues. When we are working, you are my apprentice, not my wife.”
“Agreed,” she said, and she went back to her juggling.
I walked back to where Tantalo had withdrawn, a distance far enough to appear discreet while allowing him to hear every word we said.
“Problem solved?” he asked innocently.
“We’ll leave tomorrow morning. Can you stay until then?”
“Alas, no,” he said, mounting his horse. “I have a few more errands to run before I rejoin the Crusade.”
“You’re going with them?”
“Someone has to keep an eye on them. There’ll be a few of us. Raimbaut’s with Boniface, of course, and some of the other high and mighty are bringing along troubadours to record their prowess in verse. Things should get going this summer. The fleet will probably work its way down the coast demanding support. Most of the towns have quietly gotten in touch with Venice to arrange peaceful passage. Including yours, milady.”
“We know,” she said.
“Yes, that Jewish steward of yours is very efficient. You should get by with a relatively minor tribute and a few dozen men. But I have to visit Zara next. The Doge has it in for them, and they may want to consider some serious negotiating before the fleet shows up at their doorstep.”
“I hear the place is a haven for heretics, brigands, and exiles.”
“My kind of people. Well, I’ll see what I can do about persuading them to settle peacefully; then I’m back to Venice. I’m worried Domino may take it upon himself to dive into the Grand Canal with a spike in his teeth and scuttle the fleet single- handedly. Oh, by the way, Brother Dennis was inquiring after that horse he gave you.”
“Zeus is well,” I said. “His manners have not improved overmuch. Does Brother Dennis want him back?”
“No. He said, and I quote, “If he can stand that vicious, willful, cantankerous bastard, he might as well stay with him.” “
“That’s a fine way to speak about a horse.”
“He was talking about you. Good-bye, Theophilos.”
“Good luck,” I said, reaching up and clasping his hand.
“And to you,” he replied. “Perhaps I’ll see you in Constantinople.”
He started strumming his lute as his horse turned north back toward the town.
“One more thing,” I called. “Let’s say I’m sitting there, and war breaks out. What does the Guild want me to do?”
“Try and stop it,” he called back.
“How?”
He shot us a wicked grin over his shoulder. “Do what you always do. Improvise!”
Viola watched him leave, flipping a club in her right hand, gauging the distance.
“I don’t think you can hit him from here,” I commented.
“I’ll wager a kiss that I can,” she said, still eyeing him.
I took the club from her hand and kissed her.
“I prize them too highly to cheapen them by wagering,” I said. “Let’s go pack.”
THE SUN WAS STARTING TO SET, TURNING ORANGE AND MASSIVE AT THE edge of the world. All my time in Orsino, and I had never once seen the sun set from the cliffs. It was dinnertime, when jesters make their living or die hungry. So many years looking at audiences through thickened lashes, hiding behind the double artifice of masks and words. Rare to have this moment of isolation, God’s glory on full display, the waves crashing below and the wind whispering through the woods behind. “Fool,” I thought it whispered …
But it wasn’t the wind. A man laughed somewhere in the woods behind me …
There was a large boulder, about twenty feet to my left. I took a step, and something went whistling by my ear and out to sea.
“Stand still, Fool,” said a voice from my past. “I want to see what
Time has done to you.”
The fastest I’ve ever seen a man reload a crossbow was to a quick count of four. I made that boulder in about three and a half, diving into a somersault and rolling behind it in a tight ball. Something clattered off it an instant later …
“Entertaining.… Long on mystery and humor.… The beginning of an enjoyable series.”
—The Tampa Tribune
“Delightfully constructed, featuring an intricate whodunit with political overtones, plenty of intrigue, and a healthy dose of humor.”
—Booklist (starred review)
“Witty wordplay, comical characters, and exaggerated circumstances mark this fanciful and entertaining historical.”
—Library Journal
“A spellbinding medieval mystery, THIRTEENTH NIGHT hurls one into a world that is brilliantly depicted. The plotting is excellent and the story moves at an exciting pace through a skillfully portrayed series of characters to the final thrilling denouement.”
—Peter Tremayne, author of The Subtle Serpent
“Continuing a story first told by Shakespeare is a challenge that would freeze the ink in most writers’ quill pens, but Alan Gordon attempts the task with commendable courage and accomplishes it with dismaying ease … It is a thoroughly enjoyable tale told by a born storyteller.”
—Michael Kurland, author of Too Soon Dead and The Infernal Device
Other titles from St. Martin’s Minotaur Mysteries
DEAR MISS DEMEANOR by Joan Hess
AGATHA RAISIN AND THE WITCH OF WYCKHADDEN by M. C. Beaton
THE BEST-KEPT SECRET by Les Roberts
THE IRISH COTTAGE MURDER by Dicey Deere
BIG EASY BACKROAD by Martin Hegwood
ROOTS OF MURDER by Janis Harrison
THE COMPANY OF CATS by Marian Babson
DEAD SOULS by Ian Rankin
A COMEDY OF HEIRS by Rett MacPherson
FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH by Caroline Graham
RUBICON by Steven Saylor
BONE HUNTER by Sarah Andrews
IRISH TENURE by Ralph McInerny
ZEN AND THE CITY OF ANGELS by Elizabeth M. Cosin
DRAG STRIP by Nancy Bartholomew
MURDER ON THE LUSITANIA by Conrad Allen