by Alan Gordon
She wiped her face with a cloth from a washbasin by the bed.
“Do I look like I have been crying?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Then I must stay here,” she said. “Thank you for seeing to me. It was kindly done.”
“No more than any wife would do for another,” I said. “We share that understanding.”
“Do you know what I truly wish to do?” she asked. “What, Domina?”
“To establish a house of Perfect women. Only women. And in that refuge, we may pray and follow our beliefs without the interference of men.”
“A Cathar nunnery?”
“Nunneries are beholden to the corrupt pile of stones that is Rome,” she said. “I wish to build a simple place, and retreat there from the complications of the world.”
“Will jesting be allowed in this house?”
“I shall give it some serious thought,” she said. “Leave me now, Domina Gile.”
“I will come see you again, Domina,” I said.
I left her, still on her bed but no longer weeping. Sometimes that is all a jester may do. But at least I could accomplish that much.
As I reached the main floor, I saw the Count of Foix approaching, a look of concern on his face.
“Have you been with her? Is she all right?” he said quickly. “Oc, senhor,” I said. “Although, speaking as a wife, I would say not inclined to set eyes upon you ever again.”
“Damn,” he muttered, glancing up the stairs toward the living quarters.
“Or at least for tonight,” I continued. “I would recommend that some effort be put into the apology.”
“What can one do for a woman who wants none of the world?” he sighed.
“Give her something not of the world,” I suggested.
“And what could that possibly be?” he asked me, looking at me directly for the first time.
“I am of the world, senhor,” I said, shrugging. “My knowledge ends at its borders. I leave the otherworldly to others.”
“Huh,” he said, looking at me more intently. “I never noticed this before.”
“What, senhor?”
He pulled open a door. “A word with you, Domina Fool,” he said, beckoning to me.
“Alone with you in there?” I asked. “It would be unseemly.”
“We shall leave the door open,” he said, smiling. “This world will still be very much with us.”
He held it open for me.
I went in.
I am not sure why I went in. But I went in.
It was a small office, with a simple maple desk and a shelf with documents piled in untidy heaps. He directed me to a chair in front of the desk. I sat. To my increasing discomfort, he chose to sit on the front of the desk, directly before me.
There was a pair of lit candles illuminating the room. He picked up the candlestick and held it between us so that he could examine my face better. “I was right,” he said softly.
“About what, senhor?”
“Underneath all of that whiteface, you are a beautiful woman.”
“Right, thanks,” I said, hastily getting to my feet. But quicker than thought, he was standing between me and the doorway.
The open doorway.
He always has us with the door wide open, said Marquesia. It’s quite shameless.
“Milord, should we not be returning to your guests?” I asked.
“I left them so that I may attend to my wife,” he said.
“And I?”
“You did the same.”
“She is a very well-attended woman, your wife,” I prattled on. “Perhaps we should go attend her now.”
“My attentions have turned to you, Domina Fool,” he said. “What do you look like without your whiteface?”
“Haggard, old,” I said. “That’s why I wear it. The beauty is only an illusion. Not even skin-deep, just painted on.”
“I have never made love to a jester before,” he said, moving toward me.
“Not really worth the experience,” I said. “We make fun of you.”
“I could use a good laugh, then,” he said.
My problem was that I knew many ways to kill an attacker, several of which were available to me right now. But I knew fewer ways to fend off an amorous aggressor without killing him, and that was what I needed to do.
“I have no desire to become another conquest for you to brag about to your friends,” I said. “Especially considering that my husband will end up hearing about it.”
“You, I will not brag about,” he said. “You, I will keep to myself. Let me add that as a lover, I am legendary.”
“The problem with legends is that they are unworthy of belief,” I said, backing up, which only placed me against the far wall. “Perhaps you could submit some references? A testimonial or two?”
“You know of La Louve de Pennautier?” he asked me. “A woman of such exquisite beauty that all men desired her the moment they beheld her, and the failure to possess her led many to madness.”
I had a memory of poor Peire Vidal, one she had so entranced, tied to a bed soaked in his own filth, gibbering in fourteen languages and howling at a moon only he could see. “I know of her,” I said softly. “I know of that madness.”
“Then know that her child is mine,” he said. “She chose me of all possible lovers, and when we parted, the madness became hers.”
“I could hardly accept the testimonial of a madwoman,” I said as he closed the gap between us.
His balls, I thought. Grab them and squeeze them until his eyes pop out of his head.
Unless he liked that sort of thing.
“Give yourself to me,” he whispered, leaning forward.
My hand inched toward my dagger.
“I will compose a poem for you every day,” he whispered, his lips grazing my throat. “Only for you.”
“Interesting,” said a voice from behind him. “What exactly rhymes with ‘fool’?”
My husband was standing in the doorway. Of course.
Chapter 11
I am not a jealous man. I have occasionally had concerns over my wife disappearing on some impulsive investigations rather than discussing them with me first. But I have done the same and we have, up to this point, always found our ways through thickets of danger back to each other again. Nor has she ever given me any cause to suspect her of straying from our marriage.
So, I was taken aback to see her pinned against the wall by one of Toulouse’s leading lechers, and I confess to having a pang of fear-well, more like a stab wound through my heart—irrational though it may have been.
Then I saw the glint of steel in her hand as she replaced her dagger, and I felt better again.
The Count of Foix took his time releasing her. He did not appear in the least flustered by my arrival on the scene. “Aren’t you supposed to be juggling or something?” he asked.
“I work with a partner,” I said.
“There’s Pelardit,” he offered.
“How about I bring him here, and we could swap?”
“I would be the loser in that deal,” said the count.
“Don’t underestimate his talents,” I said.
“You don’t expect me to explain this, do you?” asked the count.
“I can see what is happening without explanation, thank you very much. An apology, on the other hand—“
“I do not apologize to inferiors,” he said.
“My wife is superior to you in every way,” I said. “Apologize to her.”
“Or what?” he smirked. “You will protest my conduct to the authorities?”
“I don’t bother with the authorities in circumstances like these,” I said.
“Will your honor require you to challenge me to a duel?”
“Nor do I give a fig about pretty little chivalries,” I said. “But I have occasionally been known to kill people when they irritate me.”
He sat on the edge of the desk and leaned back, his throat exposed. �
�Do it, then,” he said.
My wife took advantage of the moment to run to my side. “Are you all right?” I asked.
“I am, now that you’re here,” she replied.
“Touching,” said the count. “The gallant husband comes to the slut’s rescue.”
“If you intend for me to leave you alive, you have a strange way of going about it,” I said.
“How far do you think you will get if you kill me?” he said. “You won’t make it to the city walls, much less out of the Toulousain.”
“The entertainment portion of the evening is over, senhor,” I said. “My payment for the wager has been met. We will take our leave of you.”
“I am not done being entertained,” he said. “I shall decide when it’s over, not you.”
“We’re going,” I said to Claudia.
“About time,” she replied.
“I know who you really are,” he said.
“Enlighten me,” I said, exasperated. “A fool is always in search of self-knowledge.”
“Your name isn’t Tan Pierre,” he said.
“A name means nothing,” I said.
“I saw you perform before,” he continued. “A long time ago, in a different place.”
“I have traveled to many places,” I said. “And I’ve been performing for nearly thirty years. Could you narrow it down a little before I completely lose interest?”
“Acre,” he said. “You called yourself Droignon then.”
I winced before I could bring my reactions under control. He saw it and smiled. It was not a winning smile.
“Acre,” I said slowly. “There may have been a tavern there where I sang a song or two. When were you Beyond-the-Sea?”
“Must have been, oh, twelve or thirteen years ago,” he said.
“The Third Crusade.”
“Oc,” he said. “I was with the King of France.”
“Not very close to him,” I said. “I would have noticed you. I noticed everyone who was of importance.”
“You were with some ridiculous boy who called himself a king over a bit of land no bigger than my thumb,” he said.
“Yet he was closer to Phillippe Auguste than you were,” I said.
“And you were closer still,” he said. “You wormed your way right up to the King’s ear and whispered evil things.”
“You make it sound so dirty,” I said. “All I did was tell jokes and sing songs. That’s what a jester does.”
“Your jokes and songs undermined him more than any sapper did the walls of Acre,” he said with contempt. “Then off to home went France, with all of his troops. You have no idea what damage you did to our most holy cause.”
“I doubt that anything a fool could say would cause a king to take such a momentous step,” I said. “He merely came to his senses, that’s all. It had nothing to do with me.”
“Then you ran off when the Lionheart decided to take the battle to Jerusalem. What was the matter? Weren’t you funny enough to have him betray us further?”
“You truly overrate my importance in the world,” I said. “I thought for a moment that you were going to say something interesting, but I was wrong. Let us depart this dull man, my dear.”
“It may not be interesting to you, but I think it will interest Count Raimon,” he said as I turned to leave. “He should know the poison you could work on a man. It should have quite the deleterious effect on your ability to make a living in this town.”
I stopped. ‘’I would rather you not do that,” I said.
“This information is something I could keep to myself, of course,” he continued.
“There will be a price extracted for this silence, I suppose?”
“I haven’t as yet determined what it will be, but yes, there will be a price,” he said. “For now, I wish for you to stop nosing about in my affairs.”
“Difficult,” I said. “It’s hard to throw a stick in this town without hitting some woman you’re sleeping with.”
“Then stop throwing sticks, Fool, or I may change my mind.”
I glanced at Claudia. She nodded slightly.
“Very well then,” I said. “No nosing about in your affairs. Just don’t let my wife be one of them.”
“As for that, I promise no pursuit,” he said, leering at Claudia. “But if she chooses to stray into my path, I will not hold myself responsible for what happens.”
“I’m very careful about where I walk,” she said. “Otherwise, I might step in something vile.”
“Pity,” he said. “You missed a chance for something beyond your dreams tonight.”
“If my dreams ever include you, then I shall abandon sleep forever,” she said. “Husband, let us go find some civilized company. Surely there is a tavern nearby.”
“Sounds like a worthwhile quest,” I said. “Good night, Senhor Count. My very best wishes to your gracious wife.” We returned to the great hall, where Pelardit was in the midst of his sleight of hand routine. A minute later, the Count of Foix followed us in.
“My wife sends her regrets,” he said. “She has taken ill.”
“I understand entirely,” said Raimon. “Please tell her that we wish her a speedy recovery, and thank her for her hospitality.”
The musicians kept playing as the guests took their leave of their host. We simply packed up and vanished out the door.
“All right, tell us everything,” I urged Claudia as we left the courtyard.
By the time she was done, Pelardit was shaking with rage. “Calm yourself, my friend,” I said. “She repelled the onslaught unscathed.”
“That’s all you have to say about it?” she asked.
“Do you wish me to kill him?”
“No,” she said after considering. “But I would like you to be angrier.”
“It’s all on the inside,” I said.
“And you played the scene oddly,” she said. “Why did you let him bully you like that? He has nothing to coerce you with. Count Raimon already knows about Droignon and his secret self.”
“But the Count of Foix doesn’t know that,” I said. “Only Count Raimon and Bernard of Comminges know about me. The inner circle of two.”
“So you deliberately allowed the Count of Foix to think he now has a hold on you?”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s how he operates. He bought up Sancho’s gambling debts so that he could control the man, although to what end, I do not know. We may find out more about Foix’s intentions when he decides how he wants to use me.”
“Could we kill him once we find out?” asked Claudia hopefully.
“We’ll see,” I said. “The main thing we learned is that he sees us as a threat to some plan of his. Which means that he does have a plan worth threatening. And we know that his meeting with the Abbess today was not a carnal encounter.”
“I agree,” she said. “He kept the door closed with her. So, since we have agreed not to nose about in his affairs, what shall we do?”
“Nose about in his affairs, of course.”
“Good,” she said with satisfaction. “Now, who is in favor of finding a tavern?”
Pelardit and I raised our hands immediately.
* * *
It was late morning when I awoke. I had a pounding in my head that for a change was not from Sancho beating on our door at dawn. Refreshing to feel abysmally hungover with the sun approaching its zenith. One of the best parts of a jester’s job is the hours.
Helga and Portia were playing with a ball at the table when I came downstairs. Our daughter still hadn’t chosen which hand she liked to use, and I did not want to force the issue. Quite the contrary, ambidexterity being a gift to a jester.
That was assuming she became one, of course. Claudia had her visions of her having a real education. The University of Bologna, and nothing less for our daughter. I humored my wife in this fantasy, but I couldn’t see the point. The education at the Fools’ Guild was much more practical, in my opinion. No time was wasted on studying law, except
for methods of evading it.
Claudia came in with two buckets of water. She was in motley, but had yet to put her makeup on. I looked at her and sighed fondly. She smiled at me.
“You have a lovely face when there’s no makeup hiding it,” I said.
She stopped smiling. “I heard something similar from the Count of Foix yesterday,” she said.
“Curse him for stealing my lines,” I said. “And more for trying to steal my wife.”
“He tried to what?” asked Helga.
“Our host attempted to seduce me yesterday,” said Claudia.
“And you warn me about stable boys,” grumbled Helga.
“Avoid all men for now,” advised Claudia.
“Sound counsel,” I agreed.
“What did he really want?” asked Helga.
“Enough leverage to coerce me into working for him,” I said.
“How would seducing Claudia do that?” she asked.
“Well, he would—,” I started, then stopped. “Why did he want to seduce you?”
“Because I am so desirable, of course,” said Claudia.
“You’ve been desirable ever since we’ve come to Toulouse,” I said. “Long before, in fact. Why did he wait until last night to let loose the charm?”
“Opportunity,” she said. “Or perhaps it was my turn on the list. I really don’t care at this point.”
“We have been here for six months,” I persisted. “There have been ample opportunities for him to catch you alone if he was of that mind. Why last night? Why seduce you at all? What did he want from you?”
“You think that his simple mind believed that I would easily succumb to his allure, and that he could then learn what I had found out about him.”
“I do think that. Don’t you?”
“My vanity would have me say otherwise,” she said. “All right, yes. There was no reason for him to go after me like that unless he’s the sort of man to jump on anything female and breathing, and the latter may not even be a requirement.”
“Eww,” said Helga.
“Which means that he was worried about my talking to either La Marquesia or his wife,” reasoned Claudia. “The only problem is, I haven’t learned anything worthwhile from either one.”
