With a Jester of Kindness

by K. C. Herbel

  “My good people,” said the king addressing the assembly, “the nature of this crime has left me without words. However, let me assure you that, though it grieves me, his punishment for this act will be—and indeed, must be—the harshest known to the law.”

  “And what of his conspirators?” demanded Ergyfel.

  “His conspirators?” asked King William.

  “Why yes,” said his First Counselor. “The letter seems to indicate that Sir Hugh and Lady Myrredith might well have been involved.”

  The crowd had to be quieted again after this statement. The guards with Billy shook their heads.

  “Not possible,” said one of them. “Sir Hugh’s not a traitor!”

  “I fail to see how they are implicated,” stated the king. “Sir Hugh is our faithful champion. As for Lady Myrredith, the lords of Cyndyn are our distant cousins and have been loyal to us for generations.”

  “But the letter . . . !” insisted Ergyfel.

  “Are you bringing charges, Magister?” asked King William.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” answered the King’s First Counselor.

  “Very well,” said the king, “the execution of the prisoner will take place after such time as Sir Hugh and Lady Myrredith of Cyndyn have come before us to answer these charges.”

  “No!” shouted Ergyfel.

  The entire hall fell silent, except for King William, who fell into another violent coughing fit. When the king had recovered, he spoke. “The prisoner,” he said levelly, “shall be held in our dungeon until such time as his presence in our court is necessary . . .”

  “But . . .” started Ergyfel.

  “Be that to face us, or those whom you accuse, or . . . to face his execution.”

  Above the hubbub, Billy heard a heavily accented voice. “I beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness, but might I be allowed to speak?”

  The room hushed.

  “Minister Snegaddrick,” said the king, “what is it?”

  “I know I am an outsider here,” started the ambassador, “but I must say, a speedy resolution of the situation would be most favorable to our two peoples.”

  “Please elaborate,” prompted the king.

  “As Your Majesty is well aware, the marriage of our Prince Gaelyn to your Princess Kathryn was to seal the treaty between our two nations. With Prince Gaelyn’s untimely death in your court, I know that the people of Gwyddea will want retribution . . . and swiftly. The death of those involved would show them that your offer of peace was sincere, and guaranty a degree of stability.”

  “Then I am sure,” said the king, “that you will assure your great king and his people that we are most earnest in our search for justice, and our deepest condolences.”

  “I will try, Your Majesty,” stated Snegaddrick. “But perhaps . . .”

  Unexpectedly King William shouted, “I will not deny the rights of my loyal subjects, or circumvent the law of this land in an attempt to cater to your sense of prudence, Minister!”

  The effort was a strain on the king, for he wheezed himself into a coughing fit, which continued for some time.

  “Yes, of course, Your Majesty,” answered the ambassador.

  “That is all,” said King William between coughs.

  “As you wish, Your Majesty,” said Ergyfel. “Shall I send men to fetch Sir Hugh and Lady Myrredith?”

  “I will send a royal page, cousin,” wheezed the king.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  A moment later, Billy heard the crowd dispersing. The guards with Billy picked him up and carried him back to his tiny cell in the dungeon.

  “So,” said Billy’s companion, “why are you in here?”

  “For the assassination of Princess Kathryn and Prince Gaelyn.”

  “You killed a prince and a princess?”

  “No!” said Billy. “But they think I did.”

  “You didn’t do it?”

  “Of course not!” insisted Billy. “They were my friends! And now two more of my friends are in danger.”

  “Well,” said Billy’s cellmate, “there’s nothin’ you can do about it now. Might as well sleep.”

  Billy wished that the crazy old man were wrong. He so wanted to help his friends. But how? I can’t even help myself!

  Billy mulled over his situation. His thoughts seemed to form circles, always leading him back to his tiny cell. The paths his mind took seemed to get shorter and shorter until all his mind could see was the cell—with no way out. Exhausted, Billy finally sank into sleep.

  Chapter XX

  Dream Time

  Billy slept. He did not wish to think on his predicament, and so he slept. In the dark, the hours faded into days, and the days blurred together until time lost all meaning. In his dreams he found escape. He saw himself with his father or Lady Myrredith and Sir Hugh, and sometimes even Sir Aonghas, running across open fields of heather under a bright spring sun.

  Then came the nightmare. It perpetually prowled just out of sight, over the hill, or around the next bend. It pounced unpredictably and slashed through his pleasant dreams, cutting them shorter and shorter, until it dominated his dream time.

  The nightmare became increasingly vivid with each dreaming, and though it followed the same course, Billy could not force himself to wake. He could never convince himself that it was only a dream.

  Over and over again, Sir Hugh saved Billy from the forest dragon, only to turn on him. Hugh chased him, screaming and swinging his sword over his head. The harder Billy tried to outrun Hugh, the closer he got, until Hugh was right on top of him. Then, just as Hugh was about to strike, Billy would wake up, drenched in sweat and bruised from his own thrashing around.

  Finally there came a change. The dragon appeared to Billy instantly—before any other dreaming. Hugh slew the dragon and began to charge Billy. Then Billy turned to run from him, but instead of a large open field, he found himself in his dungeon cell at Castle Orgulous. Quickly he turned back to look for Sir Hugh but only found the blackness and a stone wall.

  “William,” said a soft feminine voice.

  Billy spun around. Before him was the dazzling vision of a woman wearing a flowing pink and white dress with sparkling jewels. It was the image of his mother; the same image that had helped him to find a way out of the Cyndyn catacombs. She peacefully knelt on the floor, radiating an eerie light that illuminated the tiny room.

  “Mother?” said Billy.

  “Yes, William,” she answered. Her voice was comforting like a lullaby. Billy looked at the ring on his hand. It glowed dimly with a pale blue light.

  “Mother, what should I do?”

  “Soon, my son,” said the lady, “a chance to escape this place will present itself to you. You must take it. It is your only chance.”

  “What is it?”

  “You will know when it is time.”

  “What about Sir Hugh and Lady Myrredith?” asked Billy.

  “Do not think of them. This is your only hope.”

  “But they are my friends!”

  “They will be fine,” said the lady soothingly. She reached out, took his hand, and drew him to her breast, her arms enveloping him. “There are others—many others—who are depending on you.”

  “Depending on me?”

  “Waiting for you.”

  Surrounded by the comfort of his mother’s arms, Billy was at peace. He laid his head in her lap, and she caressed his cheek as they gazed at one another.

  “Where shall I go, Mother?” asked Billy. “You once said I would go to Tirn Aill. Shall I seek it out now?”

  “Escape this kingdom and go to the Emerald Isle.”

  “Erin?” said Billy.

  “In time, Tirn Aill will find you. Now sleep.”

  Billy felt at peace with the world. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

  When Billy awoke, it was because his nameless companion was tugging on his sleeve. “Billy?” the man whispered. “Billy, are you awake?”

  The image of Billy’s mot
her was gone, and the cell was again dark as the abyss.

  “I am now,” answered Billy, perturbed with the interruption of the only good sleep he had received.

  “Billy, I want you to take me with you,” said the man.

  “What?”

  “When you escape, please take me with you.”

  Billy sat up and faced the man. Though he couldn’t see his companion, he felt his breath and knew he was close. Billy was nervous being that near a mad man. He scooted away and felt his back against the wall. Again the man moved closer, to be directly in front of Billy.

  “If I can,” said Billy.

  “You’ll take me with you?” coached his cellmate.

  “I’ll take you with me.”

  “Promise?” said the man.

  “I promise,” answered Billy.

  “Good!” said the man. “Shake on it.”

  Billy felt the man’s hand on his chest. He reached up and gripped the hand. Blinding light blasted his vision. At first he thought someone had opened the hatch, but it was much too bright. It was not like the light from a torch or even the sun. This light came from within his mind.

  Suddenly Billy saw the queen’s garden in Castle Orgulous. A guardsman looked down at the garden from the narrow window just outside the king’s chamber. The name Wyte entered Billy’s mind, and he knew that this guardsman was the man who now shared his oubliette. The queen was in her garden, near the pond, pleading with her killer. This time around, things were clearer to Billy, but because of the distance and trees, there were few details. A feeling of dread rose within Billy as he watched the tragic incident building to its sadly undeniable conclusion. Billy forced himself to look carefully. He could see the dark figure of Ergyfel behind the trees. But who is the murderer? The richly dressed man seemed familiar, but Billy could not see his face.

  As before, the man struck the kneeling queen, and Billy felt a heat within his body, within his blood. The murderer grabbed the queen by the throat and throttled her. Billy’s blood grew hotter yet, and his pulse quickened.

  “No!” cried Wyte.

  The next moment, the queen’s body lay limp in the killer’s hands. Ergyfel came behind the murderer and looked directly up at the window. Billy wanted to hide but felt strangely paralyzed.

  Instantly the scene changed. A young Ergyfel stood over Wyte.

  “It was your watch,” declared Ergyfel. “You are to blame.” Then he mumbled a passage of strange words and put his finger to Wyte’s forehead. “Forget, forget, forget.”

  Billy saw Wyte lowered into the tiny oubliette, and the cover dropped. As Ergyfel’s words echoed in Billy’s mind, his thoughts started to recede and grow dim. It became difficult to maintain focus.

  Billy began to feel tired and lost. He was starting to forget. Shivers ran the length of Billy’s spine. He shook himself to lose the sensation. Instantly he saw the bright light within his head followed by pitch darkness. He felt the grip of his cellmate’s hand in his, and they shook. Then the man moved away, to his side of the tiny room.

  “Good,” said the man, “You’ll take Wyte with you.”

  Billy was dumbfounded by what he had just experienced. “Your name is Wyte?” asked Billy at last.

  “Aye . . . that’s right,” said his companion. “Say, I remembered!”

  “Wyte,” said Billy, “do you remember why you’re here?”

  There was silence, and then Wyte answered, “No.”

  “I think I know why you’re here,” said Billy.

  “Really?” exclaimed Wyte. “Why?”

  “You . . .”

  “No!” said Wyte, interrupting him. “I don’t want to know.”

  “But you’ve done nothing wrong!” insisted Billy.

  “No! You’re one of his imps! Come to torment me. I’m a terrible, evil sinner!” Wyte ranted. “That’s why I’m here.”

  “But you’re not . . . !”

  “Stop it!” shouted Billy’s cellmate. “Please stop it! It hurts . . .” Then Billy heard him sobbing. “Please, dear Lord, stop this torment.”

  Billy backed away from the man, as far as the smelly little cell would allow. Time passed very slowly as Billy waited for his companion to pull himself together.

  At last, Billy heard someone coming—armored men in heavy boots. He knew they were coming for him. As he confronted the thought of his impending execution, an unexpected thought popped into his head.

  “Quickly, Wyte . . . !” whispered Billy.

  “Is this it?” asked his excited cellmate. “Are we escaping?”

  “No!” said Billy before he had a chance to think. Then he quickly added, “I mean—maybe—I mean—I don’t know.”

  “Then this isn’t it,” declared Wyte, obviously deflated.

  “Now quickly, Wyte, before they come, tell me how you knew I was escaping!”

  “I saw you talking with the pretty lady,” stated Wyte.

  “You saw her?” said a shocked Billy.

  “Of course,” said Wyte. “And I heard her too.”

  “Then she’s real!” said Billy, as the crack of light around the cell’s hatch appeared. “She’s real.”

  Chapter XXI

  Fate

  Billy was brought once more to the king’s great hall. It was nighttime, so his eyes were not assaulted by the blinding light of day. Billy kept an eye out for his chance to escape, but he didn’t think it could happen while he was bound and under the watchful eye of the guards.

  In the middle of their journey, they stopped and put Billy into a small spherical cage suspended from a long iron pole. Once he was locked inside, they removed his chains and forced him to change into another set of clothes.

  Billy’s new attire made him wish he could hide. It was made entirely from white and blue diamond-shaped patches raggedly stitched together. One leg of the hideous costume was shorter than the other, as was one sleeve. Lastly they strapped a ridiculous hat on his head and reinstated his manacles. They never allowed him to remove the gag.

  Four guards picked up Billy’s cage by the iron pole, while the others picked up the stands. It was clearly heavy, but they never complained. The squad marched on until they came to the small door leading into the king’s great hall.

  Their captain went in, leaving the door slightly ajar. A moment later, Billy heard Ergyfel’s voice over the hubbub inside.

  “Sire,” said Ergyfel, “I have arranged for some entertainment.”

  “I hardly think that entertainment is appropriate during this time of mourning, cousin,” scolded King William.

  “I think you shall change your mind when you see what I have brought for you, Sire.”

  “Very well, cousin, but be advised: I am not in a forgiving mood.”

  The captain of the guard poked his head through the door and ordered his men to carry Billy into the great hall. The crowd was still relatively quiet when their prisoner came into view.

  A mix of angry cries and laughter exploded from the king’s gathered guests. Billy hid his face in the crook of his arm and hoped that the king would be angry enough to send him away.

  “Ergyfel . . .” said the king in a warning tone.

  The King’s First Advisor turned to his cousin and bowed deeply. “Your Majesty,” he said, “your jester is ready.”

  The guards carried Billy to the left side of King William’s dais and set the cage back on its stands. There was a low, grumbling sound from the opposite corner that gave Billy shivers. He looked and saw a troghoul lounging in the shadows under the dais. Billy remembered that the royal hounds had occupied that spot before. The creature growled at him and gnawed on a large bone, snapping it in two.

  “There, there, Werian,” said Ergyfel soothingly to the beast. “He’s not going to hurt you.” Then he crossed to Billy and spoke to him in a voice just above a whisper. “This can be easy, or very, very difficult. The court is beginning to gather under my banner. They know that I will soon be king. Those that weren’t already in my good
graces are trying to be. They will all follow my example, like ripples in a pond. Do you understand?”

  Billy pondered Ergyfel’s words as he surveyed the assembled court. Only the nobility and servants were present now, and though they were each involved in their own conversation or task, their eyes continually gravitated to the king’s cousin. Billy also observed that a majority of them wore black or other dark colors. He hoped that it was in deference to Kathryn and Gaelyn, and not a symptom of Ergyfel’s influence. Billy nodded his head.

  “Good!” said Ergyfel smugly. “Now if I were to say . . . strike you, how do you think they would respond? I’m sure there would be a multitude of responses from them, depending on their individual need to please me. It would be interesting to see who is the more eager. Shall we find out?”

  Billy shook his head negatively.

  “Good,” said Ergyfel. “I find such wasteful shows of power deplorable. Still . . .”

  Billy fidgeted in his cage, preparing for the worst.

  “Ah,” sighed the magister, enjoying Billy’s discomfort, “I see you grow eager. It’s so gratifying to know that so many people want to please me. Allow me to lay it out plainly for you. Give me the ring and your last days on earth could be easy. Keep the ring and . . . Well, let’s just say that I am eager to test the waters.”

  “Cousin,” said the king, addressing Ergyfel’s back. “It concerns me, that you take counsel with our jester and not with us. Is there something the matter?”

  “No, Your Majesty,” said Ergyfel. “I simply wished to impress upon him, his position, and the conditions under which he would be allowed to stay in your gracious company.”

  “I see,” remarked the king.

  Ergyfel reached into his robes and pulled out three small balls. He held them out to his prisoner, but Billy would not take them.

  “You will take these balls and juggle,” whispered Ergyfel, “or I shall begin my little experiment in loyalty this instant.”

  Billy reached through the bars of his cage and took the balls. Using his hands, he indicated that it was too cramped in the cage to juggle. Billy hoped this might get him released.

  “Then you will just have to juggle through the bars,” replied Ergyfel.