by Joyce
A blast of light hit me in the face and nearly blinded me. I took a step back and covered my face with my hands.
“Be wary this day, Lady Jessie.” Madame Lucinda’s voice was clear.
I peeked between my fingers. She was standing right outside the doorway—possibly not able to come in because of the sorcerer’s spell that kept Wanda out too. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Be wary,” she said again.
I finally opened my eyes and, she was gone.
What was that supposed to mean? Why didn’t she say something else so that I’d know what to be wary of?
Then I realized that she wasn’t even there.
I scanned the cobblestones going in both directions from the Dungeon. There was no sign of her there or in the grass around me. I’d watched her painful movements. She wasn’t fast enough to have run away in that time.
Did I have some kind of vision? Or was it a product of being up most of the night?
I tended to believe it was lack of sleep and too much adrenalin. I’d never experienced anything like it, but then Madame Lucinda was unlike anyone I’d ever met.
I was so busy thinking about it that I didn’t notice Katharina until she tapped me on the shoulder.
“Lady Jessie?”
I jumped a few inches. “Oh, it’s you. Sorry. I was looking for someone else.”
Katharina glanced around. “No one else is here.”
“I know. Silly, right? What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to thank you for your help this morning with my horse. Foxfire is going to be fine. The vet said it wasn’t anything serious. He’ll be up and jousting in no time.”
“I’m so glad. You know, I always wanted to be a knight and joust on the Field of Honor. They didn’t have any female knights, and I didn’t ask if it was possible. I’m jealous, but so happy it’s finally happened.”
She smiled at me. “You aren’t too old to take your place beside me on the Field of Honor. Maybe you should learn to joust too. I wouldn’t mind having some female companionship up there—besides the ladies sighing over the knights.”
“Thanks. But handling the museum is all I have time for now. I don’t want to give that up. When you ride out there, you’ll be taking me with you on Firefox. I can’t wait to watch.”
She briefly hugged me and yawned. “I’m glad I’m only practicing today. I’m going home to get some sleep.”
Lucky Katharina. Sleep didn’t seem to be on my to-do list.
The Main Gate would open in fifteen minutes. Flower girls and musicians passed me on their way to welcome the first visitors. A group of the Templar Knights rushed by on horseback from their encampment in the woods behind the Dungeon. All of them were standing on their saddles wielding their curved swords.
There wasn’t going to be enough time to ask Madame Lucinda if she’d visited me in spirit at the Dungeon. It would have to wait until everything was set up at the museum and Manny could take over for a few minutes.
I passed Luke Helms at the Jolly Pipemaker’s Shoppe. He looked unhappy. I knew there wasn’t a lot of time to chat, but hopefully Manny already had Bill up and dressed and on his way to the museum.
“Good morning, sir.” I curtsied to him. “How art thou?”
He shook his head. “I forgot to get something for breakfast this morning. Once the gate opens, there won’t be time until lunch. My stomach is growling.”
I thought about Mrs. Potts and her honey cookies. It wasn’t a long walk between the pipe shop and the Honey and Herb Shoppe. I happened to be heading that way. Why not?
Luke and Mrs. Potts would be perfect together. I should have seen it before. Both of them were alone. She wanted someone to care for—he needed someone to take care of him.
“You know, Mrs. Potts always has warm cookies out of the oven by now. I think that would be good for breakfast, don’t you?”
He rubbed his worn hands together. “I do, indeed. Thank you, my lady. I’ll head down there now.”
“I shall walk awhile with you, Sir Pipemaker, if I may.”
He held out his arm, and I slipped my hand into it. My mind was filled with crazy ideas about Luke and Mrs. Potts getting together. He was even wearing a blue shirt that reminded me of her blue mobcap. It was a sign!
We were at her shop in no time. I went in her cozy little cottage with him, explaining his plight to my sympathetic friend. “I knew there’d be some cookies ready.” I sniffed. “I can tell that I wasn’t wrong.”
“Bless my soul! You know I always have cookies baking and tea brewing by this time.” She shyly smiled at Luke. “Mr. Helms.”
“Mrs. Potts.” He removed his hat and bobbed his head.
“Oh call me Bea,” she said. “And I’ll call you Luke.”
“Sounds good to me, fair lady!”
She giggled. He grinned. My job was done! I wished them both a good day and turned toward the museum across the cobblestoned walkway.
Tilly Morgenstern was standing in front of the bottom step with Leo behind her.
Was this what Madame Lucinda was warning me about?
I could hear the musicians in the tower above the Main Gate beginning to play. Dancers from the Stage Caravan were beginning to join them. Singers from the Dutchman’s Stage were serenading visitors with a funny song. The horsemen were showing off their prowess.
The gate was open, and visitors were streaming in for their day at the Renaissance. There wasn’t time to argue with Tilly Morgenstern and her zombie. The museum was still closed, no sign of Manny or Bill.
I took a deep breath and confronted her.
Her cold eyes raked over me. “Where is your shoemaker today, Lady?”
“He should be on his way.”
She nodded. “Good. I’ll wait. I’ve heard tell of his elf magic. I want to see it for myself.”
“Unless it involves him making boots for you, you’ll have to get in line.”
“I’m fine with him making boots for me.” She grinned. “Not that you could stop me if I wasn’t.”
“I wouldn’t try to stop you. That’s why we have security.”
People from the gate were lining up behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Manny, urging Bill to hurry along the cobblestones. There were too many visitors and residents to worry about Tilly’s threats. My hand clenched on the cell phone in my pocket anyway.
“Security.” Tilly spit on the stairs. Leo did the same.
There were enough residents out to worry about the constant threat of a spitting contest. I cringed when I thought of how that would affect our visitors, but it couldn’t be stopped. The tradition of everyone spitting when one person started was too deeply ingrained.
I heard some of Robin Hood’s Merry Men pick it up from Tilly. They spat, grinned, and passed it on. Jack Spratt and his wife followed, and then a few monks added their saliva.
Visitors who were waiting to get into the museum liked the idea too and began spitting on the cobblestones behind me. I hoped it would be over before anyone got inside and started spitting on the museum floor.
I didn’t indulge, hoping to quell the rising tide. I knew Manny wouldn’t spit either, and Bill didn’t know about the custom yet. There were unicycle riders spitting from great height on the cobblestones as they went by. A lady in a fancy lemon yellow gown screamed when a pirate spit on the edge of it.
Tilly smiled slyly, no doubt enjoying what she’d started.
Manny finally reached me with Bill. “Let’s get inside before this gets out of hand,” he urged with a careful eye on Tilly and Leo.
Bill was awake and dressed, but that was all I could say for him. He was still heavy-eyed and walking around in a stupor. He reminded me of Leo.
“I’ll need you to move away from the stairs, my good woman.” Manny took out his key and nodded at Tilly.
“In a moment.” She stepped toward Bill and took his chin in one hand, staring deeply into his bloodshot eyes. A moment later she laughed her sweet littl
e girl laugh. “This shoemaker has no magic. I should flay him where he stands for lying.”
Of course, the visitors loved it, thinking it was part of the Village drama performed for their benefit. They applauded Tilly’s threat. No doubt many of them knew about Bill and his elf magic from watching the news on TV about Isabelle’s death.
I knew Manny was afraid of Tilly and Leo, like everyone else. He was acting on my behalf so I wouldn’t have to deal with her. He knew about our past confrontations.
I loved him for it, but I was the museum director. I had to step up.
“Perhaps later, Tilly Morgenstern. Right now, we are going into the museum for my cobbler to make magic boots and sandals for our visitors.” I turned and faced the growing crowd of eager shoppers. I wanted to remind everyone that this was all for show. “You should go back to the Lady in the Lake Tavern, Tilly, and leave us alone.”
Tilly knew what I was doing. I hoped she wasn’t so far gone that she’d push past the bounds of propriety in front of our visitors.
She nodded and smiled. “Indeed, I shall take this up with you at a later date, Lady Jessie. For now, farewell!”
There was a swirl of red smoke that made everyone cough. The smell of sulfur filled the morning air.
Tilly and Leo were both gone. Visitors applauded, enjoying what they thought was the show. I didn’t plan to enlighten them on the reality of what had just happened. I didn’t even want to think about it.
My nerves were jangled as I opened the doors to the museum and waved everyone inside. I tried not to let it show. It would be good for publicity. People would tell their friends and relatives what a great show they’d seen.
“What was that?” Manny whispered urgently as we held the doors open for our visitors to enter. “Was it what I thought it was?”
“It is Renaissance Faire Village, good sir.” I plastered a pleasant smile on my face and kept it there. “Work with me. Let’s get Bill going.”
Getting Bill to his cutting table was a major operation. I sent Manny for coffee from the Monastery Bakery. Bill was acting like a large, confused slug. He had a hard time figuring out what he’d been working on the day before. He looked at his boot-making materials as though he’d never seen them.
“I’m not feeling so good, Jessie,” he confessed to me and the dozen or so visitors who were gathered around his table. “I think I should lie down for a while.”
“Sir Manny has gone for coffee and breakfast at the Monastery Bakery for you.” It was good PR to get information in about other spots in the Village. “As soon as you eat one of their delicious cinnamon rolls, you’ll feel much better.”
Bill nodded, and at least tried to make a go of his craft. He carefully examined a large piece of soft gray leather and set a boot guide on it to cut.
“I’d like a pair of boots made from that.” An older woman was wearing a bright gold snood and girdle. “May I be first? I have Lady Visa with me.”
“Of course.” I smiled at her. “We are selling Master Warren’s boots and sandals here until his shop, Bewitching Boots, opens tomorrow.”
The visitors murmured happily among each other. They were eager to lay down their Lady Visas and Sir Mastercards on the cutting table. They talked about the magic footwear that they’d heard about. Everyone in the crowded room wanted something made with Bill’s elf magic.
Bill couldn’t make all the orders we received in a day. He could do a few as the crowds went in and out of the museum. The rest would have to be shipped or picked up later by the visitor.
I took everyone’s money or credit and filled out receipts for them. Manny finally got back with a large black coffee and a cinnamon roll for Bill.
“Make a line over here for purchasing the shoemaker’s wares.” He adjusted the crowd so there was room to watch Bill work. I continued taking payment for at least two dozen pairs of boots, trying to distract everyone while Bill had a chance to eat and caffeinate.
Still the eager faces watched him closely as he sipped coffee and nibbled on the cinnamon roll. Phone cameras captured the not-so-magical moments as Bill nodded off while he was eating. His head fell forward to his worktable.
“What now?” Manny’s voice held the edge of panic. “He either has the worst hangover in the world—”
“—or he’s being affected by his lack of magic,” I whispered. “I’ve seen him drunk and sleepless in the last few weeks, but not without charm, which he seems to be now.”
“No magic?” Manny murmured. “I thought we didn’t believe he had magic to begin with.”
I told him a hurried sentence or two about what had transpired in Madame Lucinda’s tent yesterday.
“So you believe—?”
“I don’t know what to believe. We might have to close for a while until he recovers.”
A public relations tour guide for the Village fought her way through the crowd on the stairs to bring two reporters in with her. She smiled and shook my hand, blasts of camera flash blinding me. She ignored Manny and went right for Bill. Before I could stop her, the reporters had full access to my barely conscious shoemaker.
“Think fast,” Manny suggested.
I graciously descended on the group with my full power as museum director. “Could we do this another time?”
The PR woman in the light gray business suit turned to me with a nervous tick in her pretty smile. “Are you sure? He seems fine to me.”
Bill groaned, turned his head, and vomited on her very chic gray and white six-inch heels.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m very sure.”
Chapter Sixteen
It became a big deal. I had Manny take Bill home and closed the museum so I could accompany the PR woman to the castle. King Harold and Queen Olivia were concerned that Bill was giving the Village a bad reputation.
It was all I could do not to laugh. Bad reputation? Why did they let Tilly and Leo stay in the Village? Why did they allow Gus, the Master at Arms, to pinch every woman who walked into the castle?
I didn’t say either of those things. Merlin was also present in the throne room as I arrived. He was still dressed as a wizard with his pointy hat. I knew he only donned a suit and tie if it was really serious. Bill was safe as long as I was careful what I said.
Chase joined us too. I glanced at him. He shrugged.
The throne room was new to the castle. The king and queen (or Harry and Livy as we thought of them in the Village) had added the lavishly appointed area to make the tour of the castle lengthier. There was an extra charge to tour the areas where the king and queen lived. A few visitors had complained that the tour was too short for the money.
The king and queen added the throne room so that visitors could see them dispensing justice and awarding boons to the residents of the Village. It was all for show, of course, like Vegetable Justice that Chase presided over—but without the squishy vegetables or the stocks.
Each morning a group of residents was chosen to either ask for a favor from the royals or plead for mercy for some unknown offense. Adding this feature several times a day had been popular, so much so that they were able to raise the price of the castle tour.
The queen’s ladies were dressed in beautifully colored gowns and elaborate headdresses. Princess Pea was present in her cradle with her nanny. Dozens of jugglers, fools, and musicians were around for entertainment. The king’s gentlemen flanked him on the royal dais with gorgeous swords. The thrones were actually replicas of thrones from around the world—except executed in wood and painted gold.
I had to admit that the room was impressive.
I curtsied to the king and queen. “I understand that you’re upset about the shoemaker’s difficulties in the Village, Your Majesties. I can assure you that he will settle in. There has been an unfortunate turn of events that has made his time here difficult.”
Sir Reginald (Katharina’s father) brought down his staff on the stone floor. “Silence, Lady Jessie! King Harold and Queen Olivia wish to hear a report from
the Bailiff before passing judgment on the shoemaker.”
“What kind of report?” I questioned angrily. They shut down the museum for this?
“I ask the questions here, Lady.” Sir Reginald was at his haughty best.
“That’s fine. Ask the questions. I turned away hundreds of people from the museum to be here.”
“We understand that the shoemaker was drunk on duty this morning, Lady Jessie.” King Harold finally said. “We are concerned about spending money to get his shop and apartment set-up—at your behest. He has only been here a short time, and yet has been accused of murder, declared himself a user of elf magic, and now is unable to perform his duties.”
“There is also the matter of Renaissance Faire Village providing a lavish program to introduce him,” Queen Olivia declared. “Explain to us what sort of man you have brought here.”
“My dear,” the King addressed the Queen. “We should hear her explanation for the shop first. That was more expensive.”
“I think my question is a fair one, my liege,” Queen Olivia retorted.
Sir Reginald brought down his staff again. “We must first hear from the Bailiff.”
The King and Queen glared at him.
He cleared his throat and bowed slightly. “Whatever Your Majesties desire, of course.”
I glanced at Chase. “It looks like you’re up.”
He stepped forward, making an elegant bow to the royals. “My Queen, King Harold—I have been investigating further into the death of Princess Isabelle this very morning. Bill Warren, the new shoemaker, has been cleared of all charges against him in this matter. The police have Sir Dwayne Barker in custody and are questioning him in regard to both the princess’s death, and the attack on Rita Martinez from the castle kitchen.”
“Do we know the outcome of those questions so far, Sir Bailiff?” the king asked.
“No, Your Highness,” Chase replied. “We do not as yet know those answers. I hope to have something more to report later today.”
“What about the charges against the shoemaker?” King Harold demanded. “Has he indeed used elf magic in my kingdom?”
