Wicked Weaves

by Lavene, Joyce

  That made me even more depressed. I stood up. “I don’t think so. Thanks anyway.”

  He walked outside with me. Tony didn’t even look up. I knew I was in for a terrible night. The appeal of going back to my little hut, as he’d called it, was rapidly diminishing.

  “If you don’t want to live with me at the dungeon, at least come up for a beer. You can do that, can’t you?”

  The ale hadn’t flowed freely that night, since it doesn’t spoil, and Sam, the owner of the Pleasant Pheasant, didn’t seem to be feeling especially pleasant. It didn’t take much for Chase to convince me to come up for a beer. In all fairness, I wanted to be convinced. Being alone didn’t sound really interesting. And he’d promised peanuts with the beer. That was enough to make me walk with him to the dungeon.

  It was strangely quiet on the King’s Highway. Nighttime was like this. People sort of became normal, modern versions of themselves after all the visitors went home.

  The Green Man, a stilted vision of a mythical being that looked like a tree with a face, was still up and around. He, who was really a she, seemed to be practicing walking in circles on the cobblestones.

  “Hey Kelly!” Chase greeted her. “How’s the leg?”

  “Could be better,” she said from behind the mask. “That kid really walloped the heck out of me.”

  “Kelly was posing with a kid, maybe nine or ten years old,” Chase explained to me. “All of a sudden, he went crazy and kicked her in the leg.”

  “Of course it wasn’t my leg,” Kelly went on, “and he broke my stilt. I crashed down on the ground, and about a hundred cameras flashed, taking my picture. This is a stupid, mixed-up world.”

  “Were you hurt?” I asked, agreeing with her. I think it happened every year, because every year, there was a new Green Man. The idea was good, but it was a tricky job.

  “I almost broke my real leg,” Kelly explained. “I’m bruised all over. It’s hard getting back up here again knowing you could be killed by some evil eight-year-old.”

  “Keep working on it,” Chase encouraged. “Maybe next time, you shouldn’t let them get so close.”

  “Or maybe next time, I’ll hit the little runt with some pepper spray.” Kelly, as the Green Man, spun around one more time, leaves and branches moving slowly with her.

  “I guess it’s just one of the problems with dressing up like a tree.” I shrugged as Chase and I walked by.

  “At least they don’t let dogs in here.” He laughed, enjoying his joke.

  I was too depressed to appreciate it. I was hoping the beer would help. I didn’t think it would. If anything, I’d probably be more depressed. But at least I’d be with Chase, although in some ways, that was depressing, too.

  “What’s wrong?” He noticed my lack of response and put his arm around me. “Still brooding about Mary?”

  “And the rest of the world.”

  “Maybe we can find something else for you to think about.”

  “If that were the case, I would’ve done it years ago. I just get melancholy sometimes.”

  “I have just the cure for you.” Chase smiled and took my hand.

  What was it with guys, anyway? Why did they think sex was the answer for everything?

  I started to tell him that another trip to his dungeon bedroom wouldn’t make much difference to my mood. Instead, before I could open my mouth, he’d picked me up and put me on the tree swing that was anchored in the large old oak beside the dungeon.

  “When was the last time you swung?”

  I wasn’t sure, and his nonsexual overture took me by surprise. “I—I don’t know. I—I think I was ten or so.”

  “Sorry.” He got behind me and put his hands on my hips. “It was actually a rhetorical question, Jessie. It doesn’t really matter. But I’ll bet it makes a difference.”

  I would’ve told him it wouldn’t matter, but it was too late. He was already pulling the swing back with me on it. He let it go, and I soared up into the evening sky. On the first rush of air, I tried to choke back a smile and failed. What was this wondrous magic? How simple would life be if all you had to do was swing?

  On the return trip down, I dangled my feet. Chase gave me another hearty push and a small yipe escaped from my lips.

  “See? I told you. Swinging is good for you.”

  I could hear him talking, but I couldn’t see him. The night was closing in on the Village, casting shadows from the wide umbrella created by the huge oak. The stars were dancing in the sky around me. It was amazing! It seemed like I was up there with them, and there was no way to worry about anything. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t tried it before.

  I didn’t even feel silly when Portia walked by with Sir Reginald, the queen’s favorite. It crossed my mind that their relationship was doomed, since Livy was already having an affair with him and he was mostly married. They huddled in their cloaks, and I pretended not to see them. I guess Chase was doing the same thing, since he didn’t call out to them.

  Just when I was about to forget about Mary and Tony and everything that was weighing down on me, I came down, and Chase stopped the swing. It was an abrupt kind of thing. I would’ve fallen off the wide wood plank, except he put his arm around my waist.

  I laughed up into his face. The starlight blended with the lights of the Village around us, creating a magical halo around his head. I looked into his eyes and twined my fingers in his braid that slid across his shoulder as he held me. I was sure at that moment that I was in love.

  “Jessie,” he whispered.

  “Yes?” I waited breathlessly to hear him say that he loved me, too. For once, I hoped the guy would say it before me. That way I’d know it was really from him and not just an echo of what I said.

  “We’re not alone.”

  I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. At first, I wasn’t even sure what he’d said. Then I saw them out of the corner of my eye.

  There were at least ten monks in full robes surrounding us. I mean that literally. They were in a circle around us and the old tree. Maybe no one had told them the day was over and they could go back to wearing jeans and listening to their iPods.

  “What do they want?” I whispered back to Chase, not taking my eyes off the monks.

  “I don’t know. I was hoping they were here because you’d asked them.”

  “Not me.”

  Chase cleared his throat and stood up straight as I got to my feet. “Hey guys. What’s up? Is there some monk orientation I wasn’t told about?”

  One of the monks slowly raised his arm to point down the King’s Highway. All of them slowly turned to look that way.

  “What’s up with that?” I muttered to Chase. They were starting to scare me. It was like suddenly waking up in some monk horror movie.

  “Okay,” Chase tried again. “Jessie and I are going to the dungeon now. I know we don’t technically have a curfew in the Village, but the day starts early, and you might want to get some beauty sleep, even if you do wear robes.”

  As a speech, it wasn’t terribly inspired. Chase and I linked arms and started to walk through one of the open spaces between the monks. Instantly, they closed ranks and kept us in the circle.

  “This whole monk thing is cool; don’t get me wrong.” I tried my hand at reasoning with the robed men. “But we have to get to bed, even if you don’t. I have baskets to weave, and Chase has bad guys to put away. Good night.”

  We started through the open space again, and the monks moved together again. This was seriously creeping me out. I didn’t know if they’d been inhaling yeast fumes or drinking too much ale, but whatever it was, I didn’t like it. “What do you think we should do?” I asked Chase.

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never seen them this way.”

  “Why aren’t they talking?”

  “They take a vow of silence at sundown,” he explained. “I hope they have a health insurance policy, because I’m about to start my own version of monk bowling.”

  But before Chase co
uld knock over any of the monk pins for his new game, the monks made a corridor, and all pointed silently in one direction. “I think they want us to go this way.”

  “You think?” I wasn’t crazy about the idea of passing through the monk gauntlet, but I didn’t see any way around it. “I think they want us to go to the bakery with them.”

  “It looks that way to me.” Chase took my hand. “I don’t know what’s up, but we both know all of these guys. I don’t think they mean any harm. Maybe they have a new sourdough starter or something they want us to try. I’m game if you are.”

  I squeezed his hand. “I hope they have some jelly to go with that bread.”

  Ten

  We walked between the two columns of monks to the bakery. It felt more like a forced march with them as soldiers holding us hostage. Only they were soldiers in robes who smelled like bread. It wouldn’t have been as intimidating during the day. It was kind of weird and spooky at night. The dark Village windows reflected back at us. No one else seemed to be out. No one stopped us to ask what was going on.

  “Oh yeah,” Chase whispered as we reached the Monastery Bakery. “Did I tell you Detective Almond came in to investigate what happened to Ham? We took a look at the video footage from the front gate. Not really much to talk about. Your buddy Alex gave him the whole story about the monk attacking Ham.”

  “What do you mean my buddy Alex? I told you it’s over between us.”

  “That’s not the way it looked to me. I’m surprised Detective Almond didn’t come and talk to you.”

  “Now you tell me.”

  “Silence!” The head monk obviously was able to break his vow of silence after sunset. I wasn’t sure which brother he was. They changed positions from time to time.

  He seemed taller than the rest of the monks, or he was standing on something in the front of the bakery. All the chairs and tables had been cleared out of the way for the event. It felt like a bad movie about the Inquisition. I didn’t look around me in case they’d moved the thumbscrews in after closing the bakery for the day.

  I still held Chase’s hand. I squeezed it and looked at him in the dim candlelight. Apparently the monks had forgotten they had electricity, too. There were hundreds of candles in the room, but I couldn’t see my feet.

  Chase squeezed my hand in return and whispered, “Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”

  “You have been brought here because of falsehoods told against my brother monks in the matter of an attack on the blacksmith.”

  Part of me was laughing irreverently at this point. Obviously, the monks had illusions of grandeur. I knew they were creepy and weird. I didn’t know the state had empowered them to hold court in Renaissance Faire Village.

  The other part of me, the one who told the amused part to shut up, was scared. We were out here with a dozen or so crazy guys dressed up like killer monks from hell, and they thought we’d wronged them. Detective Almond was probably home by now tucked into his cozy bed with his cell phone turned off. His officers were half an hour away probably playing cards and eating donuts. They might find our cold, lifeless bodies in the next batch of pumpernickel bread.

  “No one told any falsehoods about the monks to the police, Carl. Alex told Detective Almond he saw one of your monks in the smithy before Ham was attacked.”

  “That is a falsehood.” The head monk’s voice rang out in the quiet room. “And don’t call me Carl, Chase. You know I’m Lead Brother of the Sheaf.”

  Chase laughed, even though I squeezed his hand and kicked him in the leg. “You know it seems to me, Brother Sheaf, that you should have Alex here instead of us.”

  Brother Sheaf clapped his hands, and two monks brought in a struggling man with a hood over his head. When they removed the hood, it was Alex. “Chase! Jessie! Get me out of here.”

  It sounds stupid, but the first thing I noticed was that Alex’s hair was messed up. Even when we’d slept together, his hair never got messed up. Of course, I hadn’t thought of covering his head with a hood. It seemed appropriate somehow.

  “This is deeper and weirder than I ever imagined,” Chase muttered. “I’m gonna have to break these guys up.”

  “Do you think it’s the total dichotomy of having a Renaissance town that’s in a permanent, year-round location as opposed to the other festivals that move around?”

  “Jessie, I don’t know what that means, and I don’t think this is the time or the place to speculate on why these guys are crazy.”

  “Silence!”

  Brother Sheaf gained our attention again. “There is a conspiracy among the people of this Village to destroy our monastery. We will not allow this to happen as long as there is bread in our ovens.”

  The urge to laugh overpowered me. I laughed long and hard, then moved up close to Brother Sheaf. “You guys have lost it. I mean, come on, ‘as long as there is bread in our ovens’? What kind of code is that? I get the whole monk/druid concept; although the druids would’ve been too early for a Renaissance Faire Village. Couldn’t you come up with anything better?”

  One of the monks at my right side stepped forward. “The woman is right, Brother Sheaf. Many of us have long believed our code needs to be tweaked.”

  “Tweaked?” Brother Sheaf roared. “How dare you challenge the code of the Brotherhood?”

  Another monk stepped out into the opening where we stood. “Brother John is correct, Brother Sheaf. There are many of us who question a code of belief that ends with loaves in the oven. Surely there is something more befitting to our order than that.”

  “Okay.” Chase stepped forward. “I’ve had about enough of all the wheat and bread stuff. I’m tired, and the three of us non-monks are leaving now. But let me remind you guys that I’m the law here in the Village. Keep this stuff up, and you’ll be in the dungeon.”

  The monks broke into unmonklike talking and disagreeing. Chase grabbed Alex, and the three of us went outside.

  “What was that all about?” Alex stood still, while Chase untied his hands. “Those guys are crazy. You need to call the police and have them arrested.”

  “You call the police and have them arrested.” Chase finished the job and took my hand again. “These guys may seem crazy sometimes, but they were a big help last month when that little girl was lost in the Village. There are all kinds of bands and factions here. I think you know that, since Robin and his Merry Men do their little thing all the time.”

  “We didn’t think you knew about it.” Alex looked around like he was violating some oath by admitting it.

  “I know everything that goes on in the Village,” Chase assured him. “If we call the police about the monks, we’ll have to call them about the other hundred or so factions. I don’t think any of the long term residents would like that, including Robin. Everyone has their place here. It all works.”

  “Except for tonight,” Alex reminded him. “They kidnapped me from Sherwood Forest and held me against my will.”

  Chase shrugged. “I’m the bailiff. If you want to press charges, come to court. Right now, I’m going home. See you later.”

  “I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough, Chase,” Alex yelled. “I’m going to tell Robin about what happened.”

  “I don’t know which is scarier; men in tights or men in robes.” I looked up as one of the monks followed us outside. Alex was already on his way toward the forest. A waxing gibbous moon was beginning to rise over the Village, outlining the shapes of the houses and the towers on the castle close to where we stood.

  “Chase.” The monk called his name.

  “Brother Sheaf.” Chase folded his arms across his broad chest.

  “You can call me Carl.” The monk shrugged and removed his hood, revealing a middle-aged, balding head. “Sorry about the craziness. But we’ve been maligned here, man. It wasn’t one of us at the smithy today. I don’t know who it was, but he must’ve taken a robe from the bakery and impersonated one of us.”

  “Or he rented a monk’s robe
from the costume shop.” I shook my head. “It happens, Carl. This is a tourist attraction, and we have tourists who dress up like monks.”

  “Those aren’t the same as our robes. But I think we should put a stop to that practice anyway. Our Brotherhood is sacred. They shouldn’t rent out monk’s robes.”

  “But then the dragons would demand the same treatment,” I argued. “Then it would be the fairies and the knights. Where would it end?”

  He half smiled, then turned to Chase, effectively dissing me. “Seriously, man, it wasn’t one of us. I think someone should tell the police. It wasn’t fair to blame what happened to Ham on our order.”