Harrowing Hats

by Joyce; Jim Lavene

  The man on the ground moaned and tried to lift his head. He finally lay back against the ground and didn’t move. I knelt beside him and removed his black headpiece. I wasn’t sure if the loudest sound of surprise came from the riders around me or the watchers at the gate.

  The young man under the hood looked like he was in his early twenties. He was very blond, very good-looking, and very out of it. He opened his eyes and smiled at me. “You must be an angel. Are you here to take me to heaven?”

  I wasn’t sure how to reply so I tried to make him comfortable, then looked up at Chase—still behind his own disguise and on his horse hovering over us. “You better call for paramedics. At the very least, he has a concussion. Wanda can’t handle this. I shouldn’t have to tell you either.”

  I didn’t care then if he knew that I knew who he was. This was reckless and irresponsible. Chase knew better.

  “What’s going on out here?” Chase demanded, running in through the now open gate.

  I did a double take when I saw him. Huh? If that was Chase—who was the big guy on the horse?

  “Call the paramedics,” he said into his radio. He dropped down on the ground and checked out the fallen knight. “What happened, Jessie?”

  I was too stunned to answer. I didn’t have to, though, because Daisy, Bart, and Hans all told the story at the same time. The riders still remained in their columns. The knight who’d injured his friend on the ground saluted Chase mutely, then rode hell-bent-for-leather out of the field and into the forest.

  The young man was starting to come around. The color came back to his face. I didn’t want to think about the mass of bruises that were hidden under his black costume. Chase talked to him until the paramedics got there—keeping him alert and asking him questions about the date, his location, and other information he should know.

  We all stood around as the paramedics took the rider away. Daisy and the others didn’t know what I knew. I wasn’t sure right then if I knew what I knew. Was Merlin lying to me? Wasn’t Chase part of the Templar Knights? Was the big knight who’d taken me home on his horse Chase or not?

  Once the paramedics were gone, Daisy and Bart went back to Swords and Such after throwing out a few warnings about the Templars. Hans did the same. Chase couldn’t say he didn’t know the knights were a bad element in the Village.

  “I think I need that coffee now,” Chase said. “Are you busy?”

  By this time, I’d found my voice again. “Are you kidding me? I just watched one of those knights try to kill another one, all the time thinking it was you, and all you can say is let’s have coffee?”

  He glanced around the empty field. “Not here. We should talk in private.”

  “This is about as private as it gets here. Are you one of the knights or not?”

  “I guess you talked to Merlin. I can’t believe he told you.”

  “Merlin would tell his last secret for a cinnamon roll. Or anything else, for that matter. I don’t know why everyone in the Village doesn’t know he’s CEO of Adventure Land already.”

  “Have you ever heard of loose lips sink ships?”

  “Have you ever heard that one lie becomes many?” I glared at him, daring him to come up with another axiom.

  “Jessie—”

  “Don’t bother making it worse.”

  “I love you. I’m sorry I kept a secret from you. I won’t ever do it again.”

  “Like that makes it better.” I would not be wooed from my righteous anger.

  He put his arms around me. “What would make it better?”

  “I don’t think you know those words.”

  He kissed me and smiled. “I’ve been a total ass. Forgive me.”

  I sniffed and pretended that I was still mad, but I just can’t stay angry with him for long. “I already had coffee while I seduced the information about you from Merlin,” I whined. “You’ll have to think of something better.”

  “I have just the thing.”

  Twenty-seven

  “So you’re the leader of the Templars.” I wanted to make sure I completely understood the situation. “First of all—how did you let them talk you into doing it? And why all—how did you let them talk you into doing it? And why is this stockholder’s son—”

  “Stewart Reiker, the knight with no scruples on the horse.”

  “Yes, him. Is he trying to take over your group or are you trying to take over his group?”

  “Reiker’s father gave Adventure Land the money to set up the Templar encampment. All he asked in return was that his son be part of the group. Stewart knows everything about the Templars. If he could, he’d be one in real life. This is as close as he can get.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “He has a wild streak. And he thinks of himself as the leader of the pack. He’s a bully and doesn’t mind getting physical with the other knights when they don’t agree with him.”

  I grimaced at the delicate term. “That’s putting it lightly after seeing him in action today. I thought he was going to kill the other knight.”

  We had retired to the Dungeon for a while but were back out at Fabulous Funnels for breakfast (second breakfast for me). The Main Gate was due to open in about twenty minutes, but I wanted to have a chance to talk about this with Chase before the day parted us.

  Chase had received a report on the fallen knight. The young man was going to be fine—just a bad bump on the head.

  “So they asked you to step in and keep the knights going while controlling this troublemaker. And you said yes.”

  He sipped his coffee and nibbled on a funnel cake covered in strawberries. “They had a problem. I was the right fit for it. I thought it would be over by now. That’s why I didn’t bother saying anything to you.”

  It made me wonder how many other things I was missing in the Village while I taught history in Columbia most of the year. “Disband them,” I recommended.

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “You’re the bailiff—the Village law. What you say goes.”

  “Reiker senior is the largest stockholder in Adventure Land, Inc., and he has a lot of friends who also own stock. I’m stuck babysitting Stewart and the knights until Merlin finds another way around the problem.”

  “Lady Jessie!” Sam Da Vinci waved as he went by. “Heard what you did on the Field of Honor earlier. Brave stuff, girl!”

  “About that,” Chase started. “What were you thinking darting out on the field? You could’ve been killed. You didn’t see Daisy or Bart doing anything crazy like that.”

  “Not now!” I gave him my most serious look. “And anyway, I thought it was you. I was motivated.”

  “You thought I was riding down on a helpless man who’d already been thrown from his horse?”

  I shrugged. “I thought you were trying to teach him a lesson and it got away from you. It could happen—even to you. They don’t call it the heat of battle for nothing.”

  “Thanks.” He sat back in his chair.

  Time for a change of subject. “Have you ever—I mean as one of the knights—have you ever—”

  “Ever?”

  I couldn’t find the words to ask. I didn’t know how to say it, especially after I’d just accused him of trying to seriously harm another man. How could I ask if he’d flirted with me? What if it wasn’t him after all—like on the field this morning? What if it was the other knight, Stewart, who’d brought me home and been there while I flirted back?

  If Chase was upset that I thought he was ready to hurt that young man, he might be even more upset if I told him I was flirting with Stewart.

  “Never mind,” I said.

  His radio went off anyway. A problem at the Mermaid Lagoon with less than five minutes before the Village opened. I was glad to be interrupted for once.

  “I’ll see you later.” He swallowed the last of his coffee and kissed me. “Thanks for letting me make up to you for not telling you everything. I feel a lot better that you know about my knightly
duties.”

  “Me, too—I think. I’m a little worried about you being out there with that crazy kid.”

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “All in a day at the Ren Faire, my lady. My duties are extensive, including taking one lovely young woman home twice in the last few days and saving her from being trampled by my horse.”

  “It was you! I knew it was you!”

  He smiled and kissed me again, his braid sliding over his shoulder. “Gotta go. The mermaids can’t get to their air hoses underwater. See you at lunch?”

  I nodded, too full of excitement and my love for him to speak. My heart was singing. I spun around in the grass a few times, just glad to be alive. Chase and I were solid. Even when I didn’t know I was with him, I knew it was him. I didn’t have to feel guilty about being attracted to the smoky-voiced knight who sat his horse so well.

  “A lovely sight!” Galileo said as he scurried to reach his tent before visitors began flooding into the Village. “A good morning to you, Lady Jessie!”

  “And a wonderful morning to you as well, sir!”

  That’s one of the things about being at the Village—good and bad. You’re always on stage. You never really know what’s real and what’s not. Drama abounds. We are all part of it, visitor and resident alike.

  I knew I should run to the Hat House and get started on my day, but I saw the carriages lining up and thought about Neal and his job. My good friend, D’Amos Torres, was getting the animals set up for the rides, checking each line and ribbon. He was the animal keeper for the Village after a distinguished career at the South Carolina Zoo in Columbia.

  The Village had lured him here with the promise of more freedom and less paperwork. He was a hands-on kind of person who’d been stuck in an office for too long. We’d spent many nights in one Village tavern or another, kindred spirits as well as native Columbians.

  “Jessie Morton!” He greeted me with a massive hug. His close-cropped hair was graying above his black face, but his dark eyes still shone with his passion for animals. He didn’t care what kind of animals, as long as he was tending to them. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Did you just get down for the summer?”

  “I’ve been here a few days.” I told him about my new apprenticeship and the work I’d done toward my dissertation.

  He laughed. “You’re too serious! Don’t you know life is too short not to do what you love with the people you love? Move your butt down here today. Don’t go back.”

  This was always the heart of our conversations. He’d made the transition to living here full-time. But of course, he had his degree in veterinary medicine so he could leave and still get a job at another zoo. I wasn’t in that position yet. And I was too afraid to let go of my teaching career.

  “It’s too hot out here for these carriage rides,” he said. “The horses don’t like it. Drivers either, I guess. I lost another one this morning. That means I have a carriage, a horse, and no driver.”

  “Really? I came over here to talk to you about hiring someone I met that isn’t happy being a madman. I think he’d like to drive a carriage.”

  “Who could blame him? I’d rather muck the stalls than sit around in the street banging a pan with a spoon! Send him over. Otherwise I’ll have to drive this rig myself. And you know I’m not cut out for that.”

  “You got it! Thanks.” I hugged him.

  “Jessie? Times a’wasting, girl. Get out while you still can before the real life beats you down and you can’t get up. You got a good man who loves you here. Don’t be so scared. Take a leap of faith!”

  I waved and started running toward the Hat House. It was ten fifteen and I was late again. It seemed like I couldn’t ever make it on time this summer. I hoped Andre would overlook it one more time. I promised myself it wouldn’t happen again.

  But before I could reach my destination, Neal kind of crept out at me from behind the privies, taking me by surprise. I had news for him, and I’d promised we’d meet up, so I couldn’t exactly keep going. Andre would have to be understanding for a couple more minutes.

  “Sorry,” he said as I stopped short. “I have some important information to share.”

  “Me, too. Let’s sit by the fountain for a minute.”

  We sat on the edge of the Good Luck Fountain. Seeing all the coins in the bottom made me think of those long summer days when I’d tossed coins in here, wishing that Chase would notice me as something more than a friend he knew from jousting. And all the time, he had already experienced his magic moment and knew that he loved me. I agreed with him that it seemed unfair that I didn’t have a magic moment, too.

  “Some guy named Joe Bradley approached me this morning while I was eating breakfast,” Neal said. “He said he was hired by that weird brother and sister pair at the gem shop. He was looking for information about Hariot. He said he knew me from my column every week in the Times.”

  “What did he want?”

  “Anything I could tell him.” He shrugged. “He bought breakfast, so I told him everything.”

  I guess some of us were easier to get information from—Bradley held a gun on me. He could’ve tried offering me cinnamon rolls instead. “Did he act surprised by any of it?”

  “No. Not really. I tried to get some information out of him, but he was kind of closemouthed about why he was here. I’m sure he’s trying to put Hariot away, like everyone else.” He smiled at me, the sunlight picking out all the craggy lines in his face. “Except for you, Jessie. Andre has you in his corner. I hope he appreciates that.”

  I guessed I’d wasted another few minutes. I had to tell Neal about the job and get to the Hat House before I was driving a carriage, too.

  He looked better this morning. When I explained about the job, he brightened even more. I noticed he wasn’t wearing a madman’s costume. Portia had given him a red juggler’s trousers and shirt instead. D’Amos would probably want him outfitted in the required gold and blue the carriage drivers wore. But that was their problem. At least I didn’t have to approach Portia for a change.

  “That sounds great. Thanks, Jessie. I don’t know what else to do right now. I guess I’ll wait and see how this story plays out. I won’t forget what you’ve done for me.”

  I smiled and hugged him, too. It was that kind of morning—except for being late. I ran the short distance to the Hat House, where Andre was yelling at his assistants, like usual.

  I kind of sneaked in from the side, and he didn’t seem to notice I hadn’t been there the whole time. We started working on the trio of purple hats again. Unfortunately, Andre was in a good mood, too, and had to tell me all about his date with Eloise and her rapture over the new gift he’d given her.

  “She loves me,” he gushed, cutting purple satin. “I know she’ll be receptive when I ask her to marry me. Can you imagine a real Village wedding? Not just a visitor getting married here, but a real wedding in the heart of Renaissance Village.”

  I started to tell him I could imagine it without any problem because Little Bo Peep had married the Big Bad Wolf last summer in grand Renaissance style. Andre apparently hadn’t attended those festivities. Or he thought his would be much better—I couldn’t tell which.

  I didn’t tell him that his beloved tart was also spending time (and money) with Bernardo. I didn’t have the heart. And maybe Eloise would take pity on him or decide he had a bigger bankroll and want to be with Andre. Weirder things—much weirder things—had happened.

  Through the morning, I thought about how to control Stewart Reiker. Chase was too nice, too concerned with how things looked and trying to find equitable solutions to the problem.

  I knew one solution that always worked for people in the Village whose egos got too big—a good prank.

  A good prank told the ego-ridden person that they weren’t alone here, that other people had feelings and priorities, too. I’d seen some really good ones and been part of many others. I knew if I thought hard about it, I could come up with something that would solve Chase�
�s problem.

  It would have to employ someone from each of the guilds in the Village. This would help with the revenge factor as well as making sure no one ratted out anyone else. It was always good to spread the guilt wherever possible.

  While I was thinking, I cut, stitched, and even hot-glued a couple of hats that needed repairs. These came from all across the Village—Mother Goose’s storytelling hat, Lady Lindsey’s hat where her songbirds rested, and the hat (helmet) worn by King Arthur when he removed the sword from the stone twice daily to the delight of visitors who always gathered for the occasion.

  I never realized how important hats were to the costumes they supported. In essence, a hat could make or break a costume. Andre’s work went largely unappreciated even though, without it, Village characters would be less recognizable.

  My last task before lunch was to sort through and organize hundreds of hat pins. They were all about the same length, but there the similarities ended. The pins were made with gemstones or flowers, they were beaded or braided, their color and style specially created for each hat.

  But while they had a specific function—holding the hat on the head—their colors and styles were made to enhance as well. They could’ve been plain, unnoticed. Instead, each one was a tiny masterpiece. And each pin went with a specific hat.

  I thought about what type of hat pin went with the Chocolatiers’ fancy, wide-brimmed hats. I shuffled through all of Andre’s collection, each one meticulously marked for each character so it could be replaced with one like it if necessary.

  I finally found them—they all matched and each had a red stone in a brushed-gold setting. I was sure Chase had mentioned that the killer hat pin had a green stone on it.

  The killer had covered Cesar with his hat but the hat pin might have belonged to someone else. I looked at the three matching hat pins for the brothers that were still in Andre’s collection. If I could find out what the hat pin they’d found in Cesar looked like, I might know who killed him.

  Twenty-eight