The Jester

by James Patterson

  Part Three . AMONG FRIENDS

  Chapter 59

  THE DOOR OPENED and the jester Norbert stood there, bent over a bowl, picking his teeth with a hazel twig. His jaw dropped as if he had seen a ghost.

  “Gads… Hugh! You’ve come back after all.”

  He grinned broadly, then shuffled up to me with that sideways gait of his. “What a joy to see you, lad.”

  “And you, Norbert,” I replied, embracing him with my good arm.

  “Wounded again? You’re like a human target, son,” he cried. “But come in, I’m glad to see you back. I want to hear it all.”

  The jester yanked out a low stool for me to sit on. Then he poured a cup of wine and sat facing me. “I can see in your eyes you’ve not come here with much cheer. So tell me… Did you find her? What is the fate of your Sophie?”

  I lowered my eyes from those of my friend.

  “You were right, Norbert. It was just a dream to think she had somehow survived. I am sure she is dead.”

  He nodded, then leaned across and squeezed me in a fatherly way. “A man’s allowed to dream every once in a while. We little people live on it. I’m sorry for your loss, Hugh.”

  Norbert shuddered, letting out a gravelly cough.

  “You’re ill?” I asked with concern.

  [182] “Just under the weather.” He waved me off. “Too many years of crawling around with the beetles down here.” He cleared his throat again. “Tell me this-how did it go at court with Baldwin? Did you get the job?”

  I finally could smile at something. “I did, just as we planned. In fact, I think I was a success.”

  “I knew it!” The jester leaped up. “I knew you would be. I taught you well, boy, didn’t I? Tell me. I have to know it all.”

  Suddenly the weariness in my body seemed to recede; my face blushed brightly with the memories of entertaining the court. I told him everything. How I had managed my way into the castle, how I had seized upon the moment to go before the court. The jokes I had used… How the duke had sent away poor Palimpost.

  “That old fart… I knew the sod was out of tricks.” Norbert hopped around, cackling with delight. “It served him well to be sacked.”

  “No,” I protested, “he turned out to be a friend. A true one…” I continued my tale, through my run-in with Norcross, how I’d been set up, and how Palimpost, the very fool I’d shamed, had saved my life.

  “So the goon still has some virtue in him. Good. There’s a brotherhood of us, Hugh. I guess you’re part of it now.” He patted my shoulder warmly, then once more doubled over in the throes of a most horrible cough.

  “You are sick,” I said, leaning over, supporting him with my arm.

  “The physician says it’s just the bad air down here. Tells me I’m a miserable excuse for a man of mirth. But still, Hugh, maybe your return is well timed. Why not stand in for me until I’m well? It’s a plum job.”

  I dragged my stool closer. “Stand in for you? … Here in Borée?”

  “And why not? You’re in the trade now. A professional. Just try not to do it too well.”

  [183] I thought about the offer. I did need a place to be. Where else would I go? What else would I do? I did have friends here. Their trust was strong. And another aspect of the offer appealed to me, undeniably.

  I had liked it. The crowds, the applause, the acclamation… This new pretext … I had liked it very much.

  “I will stand in for you, Norbert,” I said, holding his shoulder. “But only until you recover.”

  “That’s a promise, then.” We shook hands warmly. “I see you are still lugging that big stick around with you. And you still wear the garb. But you have lost your hat.”

  “My normal tailor was unable to dress me on such short notice.”

  “Not a problem.” Norbert laughed. He shuffled over to his chest and tossed me a felt cap. It jingled. “Bells, I know. But, as they say, beggars can’t be choosy.”

  I placed the cap upon my head. I felt a strange sensation, my blood warm with pride.

  “You’ll knock ’em dead, lad. That I know for sure.” The jester grinned. “And I know for sure there is another here who will be most pleased to see you back.”

  Chapter 60

  I WATCHED EMILIE FROM OUTSIDE the sitting room before she had the chance to spy me. She was amid the other ladies-in-waiting attending to their embroidery. Her blond braids spilled out from under a white hood. Her little nose seemed as soft as a bud. I saw what I had known that first day but looked beyond due to the nature of our friendship:

  Emilie was beautiful. She was beyond compare.

  I winked at her from the doorway, flashed her a smile. Her eyes stretched as wide as wildflowers blooming in July.

  Emilie rose, placing her embroidery neatly down on the table, and with perfect politeness excused herself and came toward me. Her pace quickened as she did.

  Only in the hall, when she rushed up to me and grasped my hands, did she show her true delight. “Hugh De Luc … It’s true. Someone said they saw you. You have come back to us.”

  “I hope I don’t wear out my welcome, my lady. And that you are not displeased.”

  She grinned. “I am most pleased. And look at you… Still in your jester’s garb. You look good, Hugh.”

  “The same you made for me, just a bit frayed. Norbert has taken ill. I promised I would stand in for him.”

  Her eyes, vibrant and green, seemed to illuminate the dark [185] hall. “I have no doubt we will all be the merrier for it. But tell me, Hugh, your quest…? How did it go?”

  I bowed my head, not for a moment hiding my disappointment or true feelings.

  Emilie led me down the hall, where no guards were posted and we were able to sit on a bench. “Please… I can see you are sorely troubled, but I have to hear.”

  “Your plan was excellent. On the subject of my pretext, everything went well. I replaced the fool in Treille, gained access as we had spoken, and was able to snoop around.”

  “I did not mean our pretext, Hugh. I meant your quest. Your dear Sophie. What did you find? Tell me.”

  “As to my wife.” I swallowed dryly. “I am now sure that she is dead.”

  The light in Emilie’s hopeful eyes began to dim. She reached out for my hand. “I am most sorry, Hugh. I can see how it saddens you.” We sat there silently for a while. Then she noticed my arm. “You are injured again.”

  “Just a bit. It’s nothing. It’s healing. I found the person who was responsible for Sophie and my son. I ended up having to face him off.”

  “Face him off…” A look of concern flashed in her eyes. “And the outcome?”

  “The outcome?” I bowed my head again, then raised it with a slight smile. “I am here. He… is not.”

  Her face lit up. “And I am glad. And most glad to hear that you will stay a while too.” She folded up my sleeve and studied the sword marks on my arm. “This needs treatment, Hugh.”

  “You are always nursing me back to health,” I said. I was surprised at how easily I fell into her care again. Almost without trying. It felt good to be here. A calm spread over my face.

  “But there is more I have to tell you, I’m afraid. This man I fought… he was a knight. More than a knight, in fact. He was [186] Baldwin ’s chatelain. It ended up, in our squaring off… I killed him.”

  Emilie gazed intently at me. “I have no doubt that what you did was right.”

  “It was, Lady Emilie… I swear it. He murdered my wife and son. Yet the man was a noble. And I …”

  “Is it not regarded as justice when one takes recompense for the loss of his property?” Emilie cut in. “Or defends the reputation of his wife?”

  “For nobles, yes.” I bowed my head again. “But I fear there is no justice in this world that shines on a lowborn man who kills a knight. Even if it is deserved.”

  “That may be.” Emilie nodded. “But it will not always be.”

  Her eyes met mine. “You are always welcome here, Hugh. I wi
ll talk to Lady Anne.”

  Instantly I felt as if the heaviest weight had been lifted from my shoulders. How did I deserve such a friend? How in this one pure soul had all the boundaries and laws by which I had lived been set aside? I felt so grateful to have come here.

  “There’s no way for me to thank you.” I clasped her hand. Then I realized my mistake, my forwardness, my stupidity.

  Her eyes drifted to my hand, but she made no move to take hers back. “The duke’s chatelain, you say…” She smiled, finally. “You may be lowborn, as you say, Hugh De Luc, yet somehow your aim is remarkably high.”

  Chapter 61

  “YOU ARE THOROUGHLY MISPLACED, child,” Anne scolded Emilie later, in her dressing room, “to stick your nose where you do. For such a pretty one, it always seems to end up where it is most unwelcome.”

  Emilie brushed her lady’s long brown hair in front of the looking glass. Anne seemed noticeably out of sorts. In the past, Emilie had always been able to soften her with a few well-placed assurances and affable cheer. Emilie’s freethinking had always been a source of discussion between them and, though her lady hid it, a bond.

  But not so now. Not since the word that Anne’s husband was soon back from the Crusade.

  “I am no child, madame,” Emilie said back.

  “Yet you act like one sometimes. You urge me to look the other way for this fool who admits to killing the chatelain of a duke. Who seeks refuge here.”

  “He does not come to hide from justice, my lady, but because he feels among friends who understand what justice is.”

  “And what is this friendship worth to you, Emilie? This friendship with a common scut who always finds his way back here when he is injured. Is it worth the loss of our laws and custom?”

  [188] “The knight was killed in a fair duel, madame. The man’s beloved wife was abducted by him.”

  “What proof is there? Who pledges for this man? The baker? The smith?”

  “Who pledges for Baldwin, madame? Armed thugs? His cruelty and greed need no witness.”

  Anne met Emilie’s gaze sharply in the mirror. “A lord needs no pledge, child.” There was an awkward silence between them, then Anne seemed to soften. “Look, Emilie, you know that Baldwin is no friend to this court. But do not make me choose between your heart and what we know as the law. A lord manages his own vassals as he sees fit.

  “Men have always shown greed,” Anne continued. “They spread your legs and plant their seed, then pick their nose on the pillow and fart. Your common fool will prove no different.” Anne turned and seemed to sense that she had hurt Emilie. She held the brush and clasped Emilie’s hand. “You must know, it would be my joy to shame Baldwin in my husband’s absence. But your price is too high. Don’t ask me to choose between cads, high- or lowborn.”

  “Showing justice on this, my lady, is how you will choose.”

  Anne’s eyes hardened. “Don’t flaunt your fancy concepts at me, Emilie. You have never had to govern. You are not subject to a man. You are still a guest at our court. Perhaps it is time we sent you back?”

  “Back …” Emilie was startled. Fear shot through her. Anne had never threatened her before.

  “This is an education, Emilie, not your life. Your life is written. You cannot change it, no matter how strong your passions.”

  “My heart is not the issue, madame. He is just. I assure you.”

  “You do not know just,” Anne snapped. “You know only a dream. You are blind, child… and stubborn. So far you have not found a husband here, despite the best efforts of some of our bravest knights.”

  [189] “They are trumped-up oxen, and smell like them too. Their exploits mean nothing to me. Less than nothing!”

  “And yet this lowbred pup does. What makes you think you can expect more from him? You must stop this dalliance. Now.”

  Emilie stepped back, knowing she had taken it too far. She had offended Anne. Gradually Anne seemed to soften. She reached for Emilie’s hand. “Yet,” she went on, “you’ve never lacked the courage to stand up to me.”

  “Because I have always trusted you, my lady. Because you have always taught me to do what’s right.”

  “You trust too much, I fear.” Anne got up.

  “I have given him my promise, madame.” Emilie bowed her head. “Keep him here. I will not go further in the heart. If I did not press this to you, you would not be the wiser. Please, let him stay.”

  Anne gazed at Emilie, searching her eyes. She reached a tender hand to Emilie’s face. “What has life done to you, my poor child, to have so hardened you against your own kind?”

  “I am not hardened,” Emilie replied, kneeling and placing her head upon Anne’s arm. “I only see that there is a world beyond.”

  “Get up.” Anne raised her gently. “Your fool can stay. At least until Baldwin inquires of him. I hope, in Norbert’s absence, that we will find him a boon.”

  “He has learned well, my lady,” Emilie promised, cheered.

  “It is what he learns from you that troubles me. This other world you speak of, it may seem real. It may stir your curiosity. And your heart. But hear me, Emilie… It will never be your home.”

  A tremor ran through Emilie. She rubbed her cheek against her mistress’s hand. “I know, my lady.”

  Chapter 62

  THE NEXT MORNING, I made my debut in front of the lady Anne’s court.

  I had only seen the great hall at Borée from behind Norbert’s back on my first visit, studying his skills, watching him perform. Now, with its buttressed arches rising thirty feet tall and jammed to its hilt with colorfully dressed knights and courtiers, the hall looked more enormous and imposing than I could ever have imagined.

  My heart was pounding. Not only for the gigantic room and the simple fact that Treille was like a village compared to this; or for my new liege and the favor that must be won. But also because of whom I was replacing. Norbert was a jester of the highest rank. To fill in for him here, in front of the court, was an honor that touched me deeply.

  The arrival of the court did nothing to abate my nerves. A blast of trumpets announced the lady Anne with her long silk train and a line of ladies, Emilie among them, bringing cushions and refreshments, attending her needs.

  Pages in green-and-gold overtunics announced the business of the day. Advisers flitted around, vying for Anne’s ear. Scores of knights did not languish in their casual tunics as in Treille, but sat at formal tables finely dressed in her colors of green and gold.

  [191] That day there was a minor dispute before the court, a bailiff and a poor miller arguing over the levy of his fief. As was the custom in towns everywhere, the bailiff felt the miller was holding out on him. I had seen this a hundred times in my village. And it was always the bailiff who won.

  Anne listened distractedly but soon seemed to grow weary. In her husband’s absence, she was forced to rule on such tiresome matters, and this was as mundane as business got.

  Anne’s gaze began to wander.

  “This bickering is the stuff of comedy,” she said. “Jester, this is your domain. What say you? Come out and rule.”

  I stepped out from the crowd behind her chair. She seemed to regard me unexpectedly, as if surprised at the new face in the suit. “You say it is my rule, my lady?” I bowed.

  “Unless you are as dull as they are,” she replied. Mild laughter trickled through the room.

  “I will not be,” I said, calling to mind all the times I saw my friends cheated, “but I must answer with my own riddle. What is the boldest thing in all the world?”

  “It is your stage, fool. Tell us, what is the boldest thing?”

  “A bailiff’s shirt, my lady. For it clasps a thief by the throat most every day.”

  A hush spread over the court, replacing the amused buzz. All eyes looked to the bailiff for his response.

  Anne fixed on me. “Norbert informed me he was taking a leave. But he didn’t inform me he was leaving his duties to such a rash wit. Come for
ward. I know you, do I not?”

  I knelt in front of her and doffed my cap. “I am Hugh, good lady. We met once before. On the road to Treille.”

  “Monsieur Rouge,” she exclaimed, her expression indicating she knew exactly to whom she spoke. “You seem a little better patched together than when I saw you last. And you have found a trade. When last seen you had donned your armor and ridden off on some quest.”

  “My armor was only this.” I motioned toward my checkered [192] tunic. “And my sword, this staff. I hope I was not too greatly missed.”

  “You are hard to miss, monsieur,” Anne said with a pinched smile, “since you do not go away.”

  Many of the ladies began to giggle. I bowed ceremoniously at her demonstration of wit.

  “Norbert said I would find you to be a fitting replacement. And there is another at court who defends you well. And look how you perform… Here, before our court, with your first step, and already soiled your boots. You take the miller’s side on this?”

  “I side with justice, lady.” I could feel the heat rising in the room.

  “Justice … What would a fool know of justice? This is a matter of what is law and right.”

  I bowed respectfully. “You are the law here, my lady. And the judge of what is right. Was it not Augustine who said, ‘Remove justice, and what are kingdoms but gangs of criminals on a large scale.’ ”

  “You know about kingdoms as well, I see… in your full and varied life.”

  I motioned to the bailiff. “Actually, it is criminals I know. The rest was just a guess.”

  Some laughter snaked around the court. Even Anne consented to smile. “A jester who quotes Augustine? What sort of fool are you?”

  “A fool who does not know Latin, madame, is just a greater fool.” Again, a trickle of applause, some nods. And another smile from Anne.

  “I was raised by goliards, Your Grace. I know a lot of useless things.” I sprang onto my hands, balanced myself in a handstand, then slowly released onto one arm. From upside down, I added, “And some useful enough, I hope.”