Jester Leaps In: A Medieval Mystery

by Alan Gordon

  “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 Apprentice-ship 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.”

  TWO

  Never approach a goat from the front, a horse from the back, or a fool from any side.

  JEWISH PROVERB

  I greeted the following dawn on horseback, riding Zeus through the northwest gate of the city.

  “Good morning, Feste,” called the guard. “No swim today?”

  “The problem with having a horse is that he expects to be ridden once in a while,” I called back. “And this one has to be ridden at the gallop. I’ll see you later.”

  He waved, and I loosened my grip on Zeus’s reins. He charged up the road that would eventually take a traveler to Capodistria. The forest soon enclosed us. I reined him to a walk, glancing back to see if we were followed. When I was certain that we were not, I cut through the woods on a little-used path that emerged on the northern road near the cemetery.

  A man stood in a small clearing, holding a sorrel mare by its reins. I slowed Zeus to a halt and dismounted.

  “Good morning, Malachi,” I said.

  “Good morning, sir,” he said, bobbing his head. “The Duchess instructed me to bring her horse to this place, and to turn it over to you. She’ll be joining you for a ride sometime later.”

  “Very good, Malachi. I’ll look after the creature. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  “Yes, sir.” He looked away for a moment. “When you see milady . . . ,” he said, hesitating slightly. Then he cleared his throat. “Tell her that I wish her a pleasant ride.”

  “I will,” I promised.

  He began walking back to the town, then turned toward the cemetery. “Might as well visit my family while I’m here,” he called, and I waved good-bye.

  A small, round, bearded man emerged from the woods and watched him go. Then he turned to me, tears running down his cheeks.

  “Explain to me, Fool,” said Viola, for it was she in men’s garb, “why it is that I am sadder to part from my chief servant than I am from my own children?”

  I didn’t know the answer, so I kept silent.

  She pulled out several saddlebags from her hiding place, and we loaded up the two horses and mounted. She looked down the hill toward her home. “Oh, God, Feste. Am I making the right choice?”

  “There’s no way of knowing,” I said. “You can still turn back.”

  She shook her head quickly, and spurred her horse north. I caught up with her and we galloped on, side by side.

  We had decided that it was safer to travel as two men, rather than as a man and a woman. I knew how capable Viola was with the sword she wore, but your average ruffian lacked that knowledge. Two men, like it or not, would seem slightly more intimidating to those who would seek to waylay us.

  “Besides,” she had said when we reached this conclusion, “if things get to that point, I’d rather die quickly as a man than slowly as a woman.”

  As the northern ridge rose in front of us, we came to a path that went east. We rode along the base of the ridge until we came to the upper bridge over the river.

  “Why did you want to take this route?” she asked as we crossed.

  “I didn’t think your loving sister-in-law would approve of us running off like this,” I replied. “She’ll send Captain Perun after us as soon as she finds out. I figure that he’ll follow my lead to the northwest, while we, in the meantime, will be cutting down to the south road.”

  “I see,” she said, slowing her horse to a walk. “There’s just one problem with that plan.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That’s Perun waiting for us up ahead.”

  The captain was seated on a piebald steed. Both were in full armor. When I first returned to Orsino, Zeus and I had beaten him in a race. I heard that afterward he spent half a year’s wages seeking a superior horse. I suspected that this one could match mine, stride for stride.

  Perun was alone. This frightened me more than if he had the entire guard with him. At least there would have been witnesses. There was no love lost between us, despite a hard-earned respect for each other’s abilities. Indeed, his appearance in our chosen path moved him up another notch in my estimation.

  As we approached him, he saluted us. We came to a stop, our horses almost nose to nose with his.

  “Good morning, Fool,” he said. “And milady, I believe?”

  “Captain,” acknowledged Viola.

  “I thought you might wish to partake of a little something before you left,” he said. “I took the liberty of preparing a light repast. Forgive the meager choice, but I had such short notice.” He pointed to his left. There was a table set up, a cloth draping it, with settings for three. He dismounted and stood by the head of the table.

  “I am a bit hungry,” I said. I stood at the opposite side of the table. Viola joined me. There was a pitcher of wine, three goblets, a basket with a cooked chicken, and a loaf of bread.

  “I am forced to be both carver and butler,” he said, pouring the wine. He lifted his goblet. “To your good health, and success on your upcoming venture.” He drained it, then looked quizzically at us and our untouched wine.

  “Surely you don’t think me that crude,” he sighed. “Shall I be taster as well?” He picked up our goblets and took a sip from each. “Satisfied?”

  “Yes,” said Viola. “I drink to the Duke.” She drank. I joined her.

  “What venture, Captain?” I asked as he sliced the bread.

  “I’m not sure, and I truly don’t care,” he replied. “My spies weren’t close enough to hear your little chat with that overdressed warbler. But my responsibility is for the security of Orsino. When the Duke’s mother reverts to her old habit of dressing as a man and then runs off with the village idiot . . . .”

  “Fool, please.”

  “Then the scandal could suggest to our enemies that we are weak, perhaps worthy of chastisement. Or even conquest.”

  “A bit far-fetched, don’t you think?” said Viola, digging into the chicken. “I’m of no consequence here.”

  “You’re the Duchess of Orsino and the Duke’s mother. Still of marriageable age, and therefore still of strategic value to the city.”

  “Not anymore,” she said. “We’re married.”

  He was unfazed by the news. “Odd. I don’t remember receiving an invitation.”

  “It was a private ceremony,” I said.

  “Conducted by that crazy hermit in the woods, I suppose. Such unions are of dubious validity, milady. Did you really expect to sneak off like this without any repercussions?”

  “I left letters with my maid for each of my children. Mark and Celia will know everything within the hour.”

  He reached inside a pouch and pulled out two scrolls. “You mean these?”

  “You had no right!” she shouted. Odd to hear such feminine fury emanating from a bearded face.

  “Nevertheless, I have them. Quite beautifully written. I was almost moved. I may even give them to your children.”

  “When?” I as
ked. “What are you looking for? You obviously want something. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here alone.”

  He nodded. “I was wondering when you would ask. It’s very simple. Right now, you are both under the Duke’s protection. How long that will last depends on how he reacts to the news of your happy nuptials. These letters certainly would help your case. Promise me one small thing, and I’ll see that they’re delivered.”

  “What is it?”

  “Wherever it is that you’re headed, Fool, stay there. Don’t come back to Orsino.”

  “And my wife?”

  He grimaced at the word. “She is the Duke’s mother. I’ll use my influence to guarantee her safety anytime that she wishes to return. Perhaps they’ll even let her wander in the courtyard on pleasant days rather than penning her up for this fit of madness. Go and have your little adventure, Duchess. You won’t last, I promise you. And then come back to us where you’ll be safe.”

  Viola reached for the pitcher, poured wine for herself and me, then lifted her goblet.

  “To our journey, my loving husband,” she said, and drank. I did as well. She turned to Perun.

  “We thank you for your hospitality, Captain,” she said. “But I think that you have underestimated my resolve. I take my leave of you.”

  She mounted her horse. I swung myself onto Zeus, and we galloped off.

  “Wait, I’ve packed you a lunch!” called Perun, and his laughter followed us out of the environs of Orsino.

  “Well played, milady,” I commented as we picked up the south road.

  “Thank you. Imagine his chagrin when he finds out those weren’t the real letters. I never did trust that girl.”

  “Where did you leave them?”

  “Celia’s is under her pillow. Mark’s is on his chessboard. He’ll have it before Perun gets back.”

  “How do you think he’ll react?”

  “He loved his father, but he loves you, too. I think he’ll like the idea, even though he won’t be able to admit it officially. And by the time we get back, he’ll no longer have a regent telling him what he can and cannot do.”