With a Jester of Kindness

by K. C. Herbel

  “I’ll be there . . . with bells on, milord!” said Malcolm, bowing again.

  Billy and Sir Aonghas turned and started to leave the square.

  “So what are you doing in town, my young friend?” asked Aonghas. “Did ya come looking for me?”

  “Sir Aonghas?” interrupted the captain. “What should I do?”

  Sir Aonghas slowly turned around to face him. “I suppose ya should do what you’re paid to do, and catch the thief!”

  “Yes, milord.”

  “Look, Oswyn . . . you are the captain of the city guard. I know ya didn’t get there overnight. You ought to pay less attention to your pet thief, Derian, and more attention to your own innards.”

  With that, the captain bowed to Sir Aonghas and went back into the crowd. Billy and Lady Myrredith’s husband left the square and started back towards Cyndyn Hall.

  “Where’s Lady Myrredith?” asked Aonghas, as he mounted his horse.

  “I guess she’s at home, sir.”

  The knight scowled at his diminutive friend. “What do you mean?”

  “Sir?”

  “You guess she’s at home?”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Then ya didn’t come to the city with her?”

  “Well . . . no, sir.”

  “Does my wife know you’re in town?” Sir Aonghas asked, pulling Billy up behind him.

  “Well . . . no, sir.”

  Sir Aonghas grunted and urged his horse forward. Billy wasn’t sure if the grunt was for him or the horse.

  As they rode, Billy briefly relayed what had happened to him the night before, leaving out any mention of ghosts and such. He was afraid that such talk would only upset Lady Myrredith if she ever heard. And besides, Billy told himself, it sounds too much like a tall tale.

  When Billy finished, Sir Aonghas grunted. “I guess we’re both in for it now!”

  Billy nodded.

  Out of the blue, Aonghas asked, “Did ya see him?”

  Confused, Billy asked, “See who, sir?”

  “The boy . . . the one that haunts the catacombs under Cyndyn.”

  Billy flinched and was suddenly struggling to remain on the horse. He flapped his arms in circles and finally grabbed hold of Aonghas’s arm as the beefy knight reached back to steady him.

  “Thank you,” said Billy, but nothing more.

  After a spell, Aonghas said, “So I take it you’ve seen him.”

  Billy still didn’t wish to answer, but at last he said, “I didn’t want to say anythin’ in case Lady Myrredith were to hear of it.”

  “Aye,” said Sir Aonghas. “Tis a tragedy that wounds her heart enough without that. She shan’t hear of it from me.”

  They rode in silence for a while. Billy, not having seen the road into the city, was content to be quiet and take in the sights. He, like Sir Aonghas, worried about what Lady Myrredith would have to say to them. They came to a small creek that crossed the road, and Sir Aonghas stopped to let his horse have a drink.

  “You know my wife,” said Aonghas suddenly, “she’s very . . . special. I wish more than anything I could tell her how much she means to me.”

  Billy nodded in silent agreement.

  “Sometimes I think she deserves better than the likes of me. I’m too rough. She’s a real lady. She only married me out of duty to her father. She’d be better off with someone who understands her better . . . like Hugh. Did ya know she was going to marry him, before I . . .”

  “But that was a long time ago.”

  “She’s in love with him.”

  Again Billy found himself saying nothing. The two of them sat and listened to the babbling water of the creek. Billy was the first to break the silence.

  “I think she loves you too, sir.”

  Aonghas looked back at his young companion and made eye contact. He narrowed his eyes, attempting to discern Billy’s intention. Billy could see that the large man was truly in pain.

  “I really do,” Billy said reassuringly.

  Billy couldn’t tell what was going on in Aonghas’s mind, for the rugged knight only turned around and coaxed his horse down the road. The remainder of the trip was an eternity for Billy. Aonghas never said anything more, nor could Billy think of a single word to say. The passing scenery, while new to him, went by completely unnoted.

  Chapter XII

  Glad Tidings

  As Sir Aonghas and Billy approached Cyndyn Hall, Billy noticed there was only one guard on duty. Upon spotting them, the guard left his post and ran back into the castle.

  The main courtyard was still, except for the clatter of Sir Aonghas’s mount. Billy peered under the knight’s arm and saw the lone figure of Lady Myrredith standing atop the main steps to the great hall. She stood in a wide stance with her hands on her hips, her long red hair and dark green dress flowing with the afternoon breeze. Even from a distance, any fool could see that she was in no mood to be trifled with. Billy ducked back behind Sir Aonghas.

  “So there you are,” she declared, “at last!”

  Billy waited for Sir Aonghas to respond, but he didn’t even grunt.

  “While you’ve been off drinking with that confounded Spaniard . . .”

  “I haven’t seen Don Miguel!” Aonghas shouted back.

  “I don’t care who you were with, we needed your help. I have the entire castle split up in search parties looking everywhere for . . .”

  At that moment, Billy came into sight of Lady Myrredith, and she stopped. Immediately, she ran down the great steps to the courtyard shouting, “William!”

  Billy slid off the horse with Sir Aonghas’s help and stood on the cobblestones at the foot of the steps.

  Lady Myrredith reached the bottom of the steps and scooped Billy up into her arms. “Oh, William,” she said holding him tightly, “thank God, you’re safe! Thank God! I thought you . . . like my brother . . . Oh, William!”

  She released Billy and pulled away to look him in the face. She was smiling with tears running down her cheeks. She quickly pulled him to her again and hugged him even more tightly. Billy thought she would squeeze the stuffing out of him. Suddenly she pushed him away. Her eyebrows were closely knit and her eyes strong. Billy braced himself to receive a blow, but she did not strike him. She only shook him by the arms.

  “William,” she said shakily, “don’t ever do that again! Promise me you won’t wander off again. You scared the life out of me. Promise!”

  Billy lowered his head. “I promise.”

  “Cross your heart?”

  “Hope to die,” said Billy, crossing his chest with his hand and nodding.

  Lady Myrredith put her hand under Billy’s chin and lifted his face. She smiled at him and then kissed him on the forehead. Then she stood up and looked in her husband’s direction.

  “Thank . . .” she started, but Sir Aonghas was already out of earshot, turning the corner in the direction of the stables. She and William hadn’t noticed him turn his horse and quietly ride away. “Thank you,” she said in a whisper just loud enough for Billy to hear.

  Billy looked up at her face. She had an unhappy expression again, and Billy could see that she already regretted her harsh words to her husband. Billy took her hand, and they entered the great hall to call off the search parties.

  Everyone in the castle showed great joy at Billy’s return—everyone, that is, but Eadwig. The chamberlain was the last to return to the great hall, having searched for Billy in the deepest parts of the castle. He appeared in the great hall, wiping the dirt and cobwebs from his face and clothes with great disdain. Upon spotting the newly returned lad, he merely stared at Billy down the long line of his blackened nose and grunted in much the same manner as was Sir Aonghas’s fashion.

  “Might I be excused, milady,” Eadwig said, straightening his tunic in a taut manner. “It seems that many places in the lower parts of this great castle are in need of tidying.”

  “Yes, Eadwig,” said his mistress, mirthfully, “but perhaps they could wait unt
il after you’ve had a chance to tidy yourself?”

  The chamberlain opened his mouth to address Lady Myrredith, but that was as far as he got. He stood motionless, his old eyes staring blankly.

  “Yes, milady,” said Eadwig. Then he bowed, turned sharply, and left in the direction of his quarters, mumbling to himself. “Blasted Cyndyn sense of humor,” Billy heard the old man say as he turned the corner.

  “I think he’s a bit put out,” Lady Myrredith said with a laugh.

  “Put out?” said Billy. “I think he’d like to put me out.”

  “He’ll get over it,” said Sir Hugh from behind Lady Myrredith. “He always does.”

  “Aye,” said his hostess. “I do believe he wanted to put you out more than a few times.”

  “Eadwig wanted to put Sir Hugh out?”

  “Yes, Billy,” answered Hugh. “Before I earned my spurs, I don’t think that Eadwig had much use for me.”

  “You knew Eadwig before you were a knight?”

  Sir Hugh nodded. “I was a squire here in those days.”

  “And my father thought the world of you,” added Lady Myrredith.

  Billy watched as Sir Hugh and Lady Myrredith exchanged a volley of glances. They said nothing, but he sensed something pass between them in the silence.

  Finally Lady Myrredith said, “Well, William, you still haven’t told us what happened to you.”

  Billy began his tale with the discovery of the secret passage in his room. Again, as with Sir Aonghas, he was very careful not to make mention of any ghosts. By the time he got to his juggling act in the market square, it was time for dinner. Malcolm the Magnificent had arrived just in time to repeat their performance.

  “Then I stepped back onto the fountain . . .” said Billy, juggling from atop the table.

  “No laddie,” corrected his partner, “you stepped in-to the fountain.”

  Billy laughed and stepped back. Again, as earlier that day, his foot found only air. Billy had hoped to skip over this last part of his repeat performance, but alas, it seemed that his usual run of luck would prevail.

  Billy had managed to hold on to two of the bottles, and he swung them around in circles, desperately trying to right himself. However, it wasn’t enough, and he went down like a windmill toppled by a storm. Everyone gasped, sure that the fall would break Billy’s head, but Sir Hugh suddenly appeared and caught him. Billy looked up at the King’s Champion, surprised to see him. At that moment he remembered the third bottle . . .

  SMASH! Billy had remembered a moment too late. The bottle exploded on the back of Sir Hugh’s head. The handsome nobleman blinked twice and then slowly crumpled to the floor, taking Billy, two astonished servants, and two trays of food with him.

  The entire commons room was awash with a mixture of laughter and gasps. Lady Myrredith, Eadwig, and Beth rushed to aid the fallen. Eadwig slipped on some spilled soup and collided with the circuslike spectacle. Aonghas, Malcolm, and many others held their sides against the laughter that threatened to split them. The tangled figures on the floor were the center of attention, and so no one, not even the guard, was aware that a lone figure had entered the hall.

  The cloaked figure stood at the top of the steps with arms crossed, tapping one foot impatiently. Gloved hands irritably pushed back the forest green hood of the cloak, revealing a young man with well-groomed reddish hair and an impertinent frown. He attempted to call attention to himself by clearing his throat, but the din was simply too loud.

  Angrily he unfastened his cloak and tossed it to the floor. Beneath the dark cloak he wore fine clothes, all of sky blue with silver thread trimming and a white lion emblazoned across the chest. At his waist he wore an ornate dagger and pouch, and strapped across his chest a small silver huntsman’s horn.

  Again he stood and tapped his foot awaiting some attention. At last, when it appeared that no one was going to acknowledge his presence, he grabbed the horn and put it to his lips.

  The sound of the horn snapped everyone’s head around, and the hall became hushed. Eadwig regained his footing and sprang out of the crowd in the direction of the new arrival. The young man dropped the horn and surveyed the room with one eyebrow cocked high on his forehead.

  Billy scrambled up to see what had caused the sudden uneasy silence. Climbing on to the table, he saw the striking figure in blue.

  “Who’s tha . . . ?” he started.

  “Shhh,” hissed several servants around him.

  Billy looked back at them. They all stood with their heads bowed. The only people whose heads remained up were the nobles. All were very still, with the exception of Hugh, who squinted one eye and rubbed the back of his head. Billy returned his gaze to the young man. As they made eye contact, Billy felt that familiar, uncomfortable sensation he had when he was standing out in a crowd. He bowed his head to avert his eyes. In his peripheral he watched Eadwig move up the steps to the stranger and bow deeply.

  “Forgive our lack of formality. I assure you there was no insult intended to our liege or his honored servant,” said Eadwig. “Please enter the hall of the Cyndyn’s and share with us what news our Sire deems worthy of us.”

  Billy listened intently to Eadwig’s words. They sounded different from the manner in which he usually spoke—somehow more practiced.

  “Well,” said the young man in a sweet, clear voice, “as it is tidings of such gladness I carry . . .”

  Eadwig swooped down to pick up the man’s cloak. “Please, come refresh yourself.” Eadwig snapped his fingers three times in rapid succession.

  Suddenly the hall was bustling. The servants rushed around busying themselves with dinner duties. Billy looked up and saw them setting a place for the young man next to Sir Hugh’s seat.

  Billy peeked again at the stranger and noticed that his cool, hard face now wore a warm smile and glad eyes. He bowed to Lady Myrredith and the two knights. Billy jumped down from the table and hastily helped Beth clean up the pottery and food he had inadvertently broken and scattered.

  “Who is that?” he whispered to her.

  “He’s the King’s Herald,” she whispered. “His chief messenger.”

  “The king?” exclaimed Billy, much louder than he had intended.

  “Yes, the king,” said the young man who was now standing directly in front of him.

  Billy looked up and saw that the herald was little more than a boy with a soft, almost-feminine face. However, he was no mere boy, for all present showed fear or, at the least, respect to his person. Billy once again made contact with the youth’s piercing blue eyes. A sharp, albeit condescending intellect stared back. Billy pursed his lips and fought back an urge to run all the way home to his father. Instead, he simply bowed out of the messenger’s way and scooted back behind a column.

  The King’s Herald laughed and sat down. It was a friendly laugh—not at all malicious—and very much like Lady Myrredith’s bird laugh.

  Billy peered out from the shadows and observed the young man eat a small bite of food and drink from a goblet. The hall was gravely quiet as everyone anxiously watched the king’s messenger consume a full goblet of wine. When he had finished, he placed the cup on the table and stood. He faced Lady Myrredith, bowed, and spoke in a loud, clear voice.

  “His Majesty, William, King of Lyonesse, announces the marriage of his niece Princess Kathryn to Prince Gaelyn of Gwyddea. Further, he wishes it to be known that, from the day on which she weds, Princess Kathryn is to be heir to His Majesty’s throne and kingdom entire. You are therefore requested to be in attendance in His Majesty’s court on the last day of this month to witness the holy vows and coronation of his heir. Long live the king!”

  “Long live King William!” shouted the ensemble.

  The messenger then picked up his goblet and held it out to a servant who filled it. “And now if you will join me in a toast . . .”

  Lady Myrredith, her husband, and Sir Hugh raised their cups.

  “To Princess Kathryn,” said the herald.


  “Much health and happiness,” added Lady Myrredith.

  The messenger drank the toast with the nobles and then bowed. “I must take my leave, Lady Cyndyn,” said the young man. “There are many in the kingdom that do not yet know of this joyous news.”

  “Yes, of course,” Lady Myrredith said with a nod.

  The young messenger bowed again. He took two steps toward the exit then stopped. He turned to look at Billy, then back to Her Ladyship.

  “As you know, milady, Princess Kathryn is most fond of light entertainment. Perhaps you could ask Malcolm the Magnificent to come along with you . . . and his, uhm . . . assistant as well?”

  “Yes, thank you,” answered Lady Myrredith. She gave a smile to Billy whose eyes popped open.

  As the herald left the hall, Billy jumped to his feet. “May I be excused?” he asked Lady Myrredith.

  “What is it, William?”

  “I just want to get another look at the King’s Herald,” said Billy, bouncing from side to side.

  “Well . . .” said Myrredith, smiling at last. “Hurry up, William, or you’ll miss him.”

  “Thank you, Lady Myrredith!” said Billy as he ran from the hall to catch up with the herald.

  The herald was mounting a black horse with blue and silver tack, as Billy exited the main keep. The youth wheeled his mount around and trotted out of the inner ward with Billy in pursuit.

  Billy stopped at the gatehouse and watched as the young messenger passed by the torches on the far side of the drawbridge. The King’s Herald turned and caught Billy gawking beside the gate. He smiled and, showing tremendous control, reined the majestic black steed up on its rear legs. Once in the air, he saluted by raising one hand above his head. The instant its hooves touched ground, he spurred his mount into a gallop and charged down the dark elm-lined road away from Cyndyn Hall.

  Billy was still watching the herald when another rider suddenly emerged from the trees on the side of the road. This second rider sat upon a pale horse with long flowing fetlocks. Both rider and mount were encased in strange armor fashioned in black metallic plates with silver filigree. The stranger rode into the middle of the road and stopped to watch the herald disappear into the night.