With a Jester of Kindness

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With a Jester of Kindness Page 35

by K. C. Herbel


  “Quiet, woman!” urged Gryff.

  “You know about that?” exclaimed Billy.

  “Shh!” hissed Dana. “Strangled she was.”

  “Strangled?” mouthed Billy. The image of the woman being choked in his vision flashed in his head.

  “Woman!” said Gryff in a warning tone that woke Billy from his trance.

  “Aye, strangled,” said Dana. “It were no drowning accident, as they’d have us believe.” Then she directed her words to her husband. “Most everyone here knows that!”

  “Aye,” agreed Gryff grudgingly, “but there’s no sense in telling the boy.”

  “How do you know all this?” asked Billy, now whispering too.

  “Gryff was just a young man at the time,” said Dana, placing her hand on her man’s, “but he saw.”

  Suddenly Gryff pushed back from his wife and stood. “I think you’ve said enough, woman!”

  “What did ya see?” asked Billy earnestly. “I truly must know.”

  Dana stared up at her husband who was towering over her. He looked at Billy, measuring something in his mind. Slowly, he paced to the door, looked outside, and closed it. Then he turned to his wife and nodded. Dana was just about to speak when Gryff interrupted.

  “But . . .” he said putting a well-callused finger on the end of Billy’s nose, “but ya must first promise never to tell another living soul.”

  “I promise!” said Billy quickly. “I promise!”

  Gryff withdrew his finger as Dana began to speak.

  “As I was sayin’, when Gryff was a young man . . .”

  “Not that young,” inserted Gryff.

  Dana gave him a dark look then continued. “When he was younger, his parents served the king, much the way we do now. And like our little Mary, Gryff often helped with totin’ food to and from the keep and here about. Wherever the nobles needed it.”

  “You’re talking too much, woman!” said Gryff. “Just tell him before I change my mind.”

  “Be calm, husband,” said Dana. “Billy’s not gonna tell anyone, now are ya, love?”

  “No ma’am,” answered Billy.

  “Ya see!” offered Dana to her husband before continuing. “Now as I was sayin’, Gryff often brought food to the main keep. I think the queen was fond of him, and that’s why he was sent to bring light refreshments to her in her garden every evenin’.”

  “No, that’s not why,” said Gryff, “but continue.”

  “Who’s tellin’ the story here?” asked Dana.

  “I can’t tell,” said her husband. “It’s taking so long!”

  “Oh hush! I’m almost finished.”

  “You’d better be!” threatened Gryff.

  “Gryff was the one who found the queen,” whispered Dana.

  “What?” exclaimed Billy.

  Gryff nodded sadly.

  “And how did ya know it wasn’t an accident?”

  Dana deferred to her husband.

  Gryff wrapped his fingers around his throat. “Marks,” he said. “She had marks, here.”

  Again phantoms from Billy’s vision invaded his head—images of the man putting his hands around the lady’s throat. They seemed to run in circles, shifting around and around through his mind.

  “It wasn’t a dream,” William mumbled to himself.

  “What, dear?” asked Dana.

  “Huh?” said Billy. Then he realized that he must have spoken aloud. “Oh, nothing. I was just talking to myself.”

  Billy got up and walked to the door without a word. The images became more intense, pushing away his other thoughts.

  “Where ya goin’?” asked Gryff.

  “I don’t know,” answered Billy numbly.

  “Ya haven’t finished your dinner, deary,” said Dana.

  “Sorry,” answered Billy. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

  With that, Billy turned and wandered out into the ward. As he walked away, he heard Gryff fussing at his wife.

  “Ya shouldn’t have told him!” he shouted. “Now look what you’ve done.”

  “What I’ve done?” fired his wife.

  “At least you didn’t mention the child . . .”

  I’m glad you told me, thought Billy.

  Their voices droned on and faded into garbled noise as Billy trudged across the inner ward to the donjon. His head was a storm of disturbing thoughts and violent pictures.

  Billy roamed the halls of Castle Orgulous’s main keep, searching for his companions and avoiding the area around the garden. Convinced that he had seen the queen’s murder, he had no desire to go back there.

  At last Billy found his friends in the company of Princess Kathryn and Prince Gaelyn, enjoying a quiet stroll through the inner ward. Billy was dying to tell them about his vision and find out more about the queen, but he was afraid that he would have to explain how he had come to the garden in the first place. The last thing he wanted was for his friends to find out about his spying on them.

  “You’re awfully quiet tonight, William,” said Lady Myrredith as they entered the donjon.

  “Oh, I . . .” stumbled Billy, “I’m just . . .”

  “Is there something you want to ask us?” queried Hugh.

  “No,” answered Billy.

  “Don’t be sad, William,” said the princess. “You will see Lady Myrredith and Sir Hugh again before long.”

  “And in the meantime,” added the prince, “we would like ya to share our company.”

  “Thank you,” said Billy.

  “Yes, thank you, Your Highness,” said Lady Myrredith. “And now I think it’s time that a certain young man went to bed.”

  “You’re always sending me to bed,” groaned Billy.

  “Well,” said Lady Myrredith, “we’re just looking out for you.”

  “I wouldn’t need looking out for if I were awake!” protested Billy.

  The party of nobles laughed and said their goodnights to Billy. As he headed up the stairs, he turned and looked back at his four friends—two old and two new. Despite his father’s warning about nobles, Billy found these four to be kind and agreeable. Seeing them all together, joined in friendship, warmed Billy. They were the future of Lyonesse, and from where Billy stood, that future looked great.

  Chapter XVIII

  Dark Days

  The next morning, noble and commoner alike lined up along Lady Cyndyn’s path from Castle Orgulous. Billy was amazed at how many came out to show their support of his patron. Dressed in black, they stood solemnly and bowed to her as she passed. Even the heavens were smeared with dark charcoal clouds. For the first time, Ergyfel seemed appropriately attired.

  After Lady Myrredith and Princess Kathryn said their good-byes, Ergyfel approached. “Milady,” said the magister, “the king sends his sympathies and wishes for a good journey.”

  “Thank you,” said Myrredith with a nod. “The king is not well?”

  “No, milady,” answered the King’s First Counselor. “He was feeling less than himself this morning. The old sickness, I’m afraid.”

  “Yes,” said Lady Myrredith. “Please relay my wishes for His Majesty’s speedy recovery.”

  “Of course, milady,” said Ergyfel with a bow. As he rose, he made momentary eye contact with Billy. “Oh yes,” he added with a smile, “don’t worry about William, milady. I will keep an eye on the boy.”

  Before Myrredith could speak, Ergyfel bowed and stepped back behind the wall of mourners. Billy watched as he disappeared into the sea of black. He noticed too that Lady Myrredith and Sir Hugh kept an eye on the magister. The lady’s eyes were dark and hawklike as they pierced the crowd. The worry lines that Billy had come to know resurfaced. He took her hand.

  “Myrredith?” said the Earl of Hillshire from her side.

  Lady Myrredith did not respond.

  “Myrredith?” repeated the grandfatherly noble.

  “Oh yes, Finney,” said Lady Myrredith coming out of her trance. “Please forgive me.”

  “Of course, my
dear.”

  “I wish you were coming with us, old friend,” said Lady Myrredith.

  “I am.”

  “What?”

  “Yes,” said the earl. “I can’t imagine not being there for you when you arrive at Waru-Dunom.”

  “But the coronation!”

  “I would only be bored into unconsciousness—a condition someone of my advanced years views with apprehension.”

  Lady Myrredith bowed to Earl Finney. “My deepest gratitude.”

  “No, no, no,” said the earl, offering a hand to Myrredith. “None of that now, child. We are too long friends and I am too old for all that nonsense. Now let us be off. I insist that you ride with me, at least for the first part of our journey.”

  “Yes, of course, Finney.”

  Malcolm helped the Earl of Hillshire and Lady Myrredith up into their wagon then climbed into the second wagon. Billy hated to see his juggling master leave but decided, as did Malcolm, that Lady Myrredith needed his company more than anyone in Orgulous.

  Even though Billy and Lady Myrredith had said their farewells a dozen times that morning, neither one of them wanted their separation to begin. They had hardly been apart since their acquaintance, and now it seemed like the end. It felt wrong.

  As the wagon started to roll away, Lady Myrredith repeated what she had told Billy earlier, concerning proper behavior. Billy trotted along beside them as they exited the giant gateway of the castle.

  “And obey Princess Kathryn, and Prince Gaelyn, and . . .”

  “I’ll be good,” Billy said crossing his heart.

  Lady Myrredith stopped lecturing and smiled. “I know you will . . . When we return, you must tell me everything about the coronation!”

  “I’ll pay extra close attention, so I don’t miss anything!”

  Lady Myrredith began to tear up, and so Billy jumped into the moving wagon. Lady Myrredith threw her arms around him and squeezed. Billy wished she would just keep holding him.

  “Take care, little brother,” she whispered with a sniff.

  Billy felt the wetness of her tears on his cheek. “You too, Myrredith.”

  Billy felt his heart breaking as the wagon slowed to a stop. Sir Hugh dismounted and helped him down from the wagon. The two of them stood silently, then Billy stretched out his hand. Hugh clasped his forearm in the manner that Billy had seen him greet other knights.

  “Thanks,” said Billy, “for everything.”

  “Thank you,” answered his friend.

  Hugh tousled Billy’s hair then handed him Splendore Pomponnel’s reins while he mounted. The spirited horse snorted and gave Billy a friendly nudge with its nose. Billy pulled out the last piece of sugar candy from his pocket and gave it to Splendore.

  “I’ll miss you too, Splendore,” said Billy.

  The entire party moved out as Sir Hugh took control of the willful horse and turned him alongside the wagon. An ache grew in Billy’s chest as wagon after wagon rolled by, leaving him behind.

  As Billy stood in the road, watching Hugh and Myrredith disappear from sight, he had the feeling that this was more than just a good-bye. Much like the first time they met, he simply knew that they were to be friends, and now he felt as if they might never see each other again.

  Billy waited for the last wagon to leave his sight then turned and plodded back to Castle Orgulous. As he reached the gate, a boy ran past him carrying a large black bag.

  “Hey, stop! What’s the hurry?” said Billy running to catch him.

  “I can’t stop,” said the boy. “My master needs these medicines now!”

  “Your master?”

  “Aye,” answered the boy, breathing hard. “My master is Dhwen, the king’s physician.”

  “King William’s physician?”

  “Aye.”

  “The king is sick?”

  “Very!”

  “I better go too,” said Billy, keeping step with the physician’s apprentice. “I’m the king’s new court musician.”

  “The new jester?”

  “Musician!” corrected Billy.

  “As you wish,” muttered the boy. “My name is James.”

  “I’m Billy.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes,” said James. “I was at the wedding feast.”

  “Oh.”

  The boys were too out of breath to say anything more. Panting, they made their way up the donjon’s many flights of stairs, upsetting several nobles and surprising guards. James went straight to the king’s chamber while Billy went to collect his lute.

  Princess Kathryn had arranged for Billy to have a room near her own. It was not so spacious as the one he had shared with Lady Myrredith, but he didn’t plan to spend much time there. Billy popped into his room only long enough to grab his instrument and then darted down the long hallway to the king’s chambers.

  Two guards stopped Billy as he approached the T-intersection before the royal suite. James was nowhere to be seen, but Billy thought he heard him from behind the large oaken door.

  “Halt!” said the guards, as Billy went for the door.

  Billy stopped and stared at them. “But I’m the king’s new musician!” he insisted.

  “You haven’t been summoned,” said the guard on the left.

  “But . . .” started Billy.

  “You’ll just have to wait,” said the guard on the right.

  Billy realized that it wasn’t any use to argue, so he looked around for a place to sit. Down the hall, to his left, he found a small ledge with a narrow window. The view from the window gave him chills. It was the garden. Billy turned his back to the window and waited.

  After what seemed an eternity for Billy, Ergyfel arrived. He dismissed the guards and walked directly into the king’s suite. Billy thought it was odd that he should dismiss the guards, but then again, he is the King’s First Counselor.

  Billy listened intently, trying to hear what was being said, but the door was too thick. Suddenly the door swung open, and James appeared. He stood in the doorway as a thin voice from within gave him instructions.

  “And come back soon with that water,” said the voice, “I may need you to fetch more medicine from the apothecary.”

  “Yes, master,” answered James with a nod.

  Billy approached the door. As James turned to leave, he saw Billy coming and stopped for a moment, leaving the door slightly ajar.

  “How’s the king?” whispered Billy.

  “He’s not well,” answered James.

  “Why aren’t you in there with your master?”

  “The magister told him to send me away.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” said James. “Maybe he needs to discuss something with the king in private.”

  Billy looked over James’s shoulder into the room and could see the old physician talking. He was a grey-bearded man, dressed in plain brown clothing with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. Upon his bald head, he wore a small blue hat with a red ribbon in the back. Billy noticed tiny drops of blood on the front of his shirt. In his hands he carried a small bowl.

  “I better go,” said James. “He’ll need that water before long.”

  Billy watched the young apprentice run down the hallway then turned his attention back to the door. Dhwen, the physician, was still standing where Billy could see him.

  “But they’re dead!” said Dhwen, raising his voice.

  “What do you mean?” Billy heard Ergyfel say.

  The physician picked something small and black out of the bowl using tongs. He held the object up in the air and let it drop into the bowl then picked up another. He repeated this as he continued.

  “The leeches are all dead! I think you should do something!”

  “What do you mean, Dhwen?” said Ergyfel. “What are you saying?”

  “The king is poisoned!”

  “What?” exclaimed Ergyfel.

  Poisoned? thought Billy, clamping a hand over
his mouth.

  “Yes,” said Dhwen. “I’ve never seen its like, but I can tell you most other men would be dead by now. The king has always had a very strong will, even through these many years of sickness. It’s the only thing keeping him alive.”

  “Only his will,” mused Ergyfel. “What should we do?”

  “I’m afraid it is beyond my skills, Magister, but if you were to . . . do something . . .”

  “Do what, physician?”

  “Who could condemn you for using your powers to save our king?”

  “Powers?”

  “I would not mention it if not for . . .”

  “Believe me, Doctor, I have done everything I can. And you . . . you have done everything you can.”

  “I . . . have done everything I can.”

  Dhwen’s posture relaxed. Then Ergyfel’s voice changed subtly, taking on a smooth, sonorous tone.

  “There’s nothing more to be said.”

  “Nothing more to be said,” repeated the physician.

  “That’s right, Dhwen. There’s no need to mention the poison.”

  “No poison.”

  “And no leeches. The king will recover, with rest.”

  “No leeches. The king will recover.”

  “That’s right. We don’t want to unduly worry or alarm the princess.”

  “No, no worry.”

  “Good,” said Ergyfel. “Remember that, and everything will be fine.”

  Suddenly the old physician crumpled, just catching himself before he fell to the floor.

  “Are you well, Doctor?” asked Ergyfel.

  “Oh . . . yes, thank you,” answered the king’s physician shakily. “Just a little spell, nothing to worry about. You see, when you reach my age . . .”

  “I hope it’s not the same as the king.”

  “The king? . . . Oh yes, the king! . . . No, no. I’m just an old man, but the king will recover. He just needs rest.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear that, Dhwen,” said Ergyfel. “Now I must leave, and you must take care of your patient.”

  “Yes, quite so.”

  Billy turned and scuttled away from the door. Before he could make the corner, he heard the door groan behind him, and he made an about-face. Ergyfel came through the door and strutted down the hallway.

  “William,” said the magister, “what brings you here?”

  “I thought the king might wish to hear some music,” answered Billy. “Maybe it would make him feel better?”

 

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