The Lark's Lament: A Fools' Guild Mystery (30 page)

This must be what domestic bliss is like for a jester, I thought. I suddenly found myself looking forward to the end of our journey, when we would settle down in Toulouse in our own rooms, and stay long enough to raise our child. Maybe I would have another—Theo was a good father, and you don’t waste those.

I bustled about, preparing dinner. Pantalan returned just as the sun was beginning to set.

“I have news, my friends,” he said. “The young—my, it smells good in here. Did Theo bathe?”

“We threw out all of your things,” I said. “The air is much better as a result.”

“I’ve needed a woman’s touch in this household,” he said. “You’re hired. Anyway, I have found your Philippe, and just in time.”

“He’s in danger?” asked Theo.

“No, or at least, not immediately,” said Pantalan. “He leaves for the Holy Land in two days.”

“Business or Crusade?” I asked.

“He’s taken the Cross, although I don’t know that there is any battle currently going on there. They can always make him guard a wall somewhere.”

“Do you know where he’s staying?” asked Theo.

“Of course, but there’s no point in going tonight,” said Pantalan. “They say that he has been drinking his way through every tavern on the waterfront for the past several days, sopping up all the local wine and women he can before he embarks on his sacred journey. We will speak with him in the morning, or whenever he wakes up.”

“Is it safe for us to go as jesters?” I asked.

“It is,” said Pantalan. “I paid a visit to the Guiraud store. I thought a certain someone might like this.”

He tossed a small bag to Helga, who opened it and dived in.

“Ank ou,” she said in a garbled voice, her mouth full of rock candy.

“Demosthenes, she is not,” he observed. “Anyhow, nobody there was saying anything about his death or disappearance. I heard someone asking for him, in fact, and the clerk replied that he was away on business and not expected for some weeks.”

“That’s a relief,” I said.

“The bodies should have been discovered by now,” argued Theo. “I didn’t find any identifying documents when I searched them, but that doesn’t mean someone might not recognize them. There is also the problem of the mercenary who escaped.”

“But he didn’t come here,” said Pantalan. “There would be an uproar if the news had gotten out. I suspect in any case that the investigation will be carried out from the Montpellier end when they are discovered. It’s in their jurisdiction. That gives you enough time to meet with the son of the Hawk and then get out of town.”

I shivered suddenly. We had been chasing so many stories from the past that the idea of actually meeting someone from them was as unreal as encountering a monster out of Homer or a knight from the Round Table. What would this boy be like?

In the morning, we did our stretches in the courtyard. Pantalan joined us, to our surprise and the glee of the neighborhood children.

“I have been getting careless about my morning routine,” he said, almost touching his toes. “I have been coasting along on sheer brilliance alone for years, but I have let the other skills lapse. Let’s see if I still can—ah, good.”

He kicked up into a handstand and walked several paces in that position before toppling over. The children clapped.

“I am not ready to marry you yet,” called Helga.

“Then I shall keep exercising,” replied Pantalan, rolling to his feet.

“Let’s go see Philippe first,” said Theo.

*   *   *

There were only a couple of ships in the harbor. It was late in the year for traveling, and the Ville-Basse was at half-bustle at best. Pantalan led us to an inn called the Pelican and had a whispered conversation with the barmaid. She pointed to a young man who was leaning on the plank tables, picking dispiritedly at a plate of boiled eggs. He was the right age, and had a handsome face with almost delicate features. His hair was black and tied into a greasy braid in back. He wore a sword in a shabby leather scabbard at his side, and a plain wooden cross dangling from a chain around his neck.

“Sieur Philippe?” said Theo.

The man looked up us and blinked. “No singing, for Christ’s sake,” he said. “I have a headache larger than my head.”

“We won’t sing,” said Theo sympathetically. “But are you Philippe Landrieux?”

“I am,” he said. “Who are you? I can see that you are jesters.”

“My name is Tan Pierre,” said Theo. “This is my wife, Domna Gile, and our daughters. You recognize Sieur Pantalan, no doubt.”

“I have seen him perform, of course,” said Philippe, nodding politely at the introductions. “What business do you have with me, Sieur Fool?”

“My family and I have lately returned from Montpellier,” said Theo.

“I know the town well,” said Philippe. “Knew it, anyhow. You must know Grelho.”

“We do. We were visiting him. We heard about your—displacement.”

“A pretty word,” said Philippe bitterly. “Were you sent to taunt me in my misery?”

“We came because we know your story,” said Theo.

“No one knows my story,” said Philippe.

“We know about your mother,” said Theo.

Philippe looked at him steadily. “My mother is dead,” he said.

“Please, Sieur,” I said. “We have no wish to cause you scandal. Our path intersected yours quite by accident, and we cannot tell you everything about it or why it is important. We do know that your mother survived her foul imprisonment. We also know that several people have died since her release because someone sought vengeance upon her for an old sin. We came to warn both of you.”

“I don’t know how you learned that,” he said. “But she is beyond your help and anyone’s vengeance but God’s.”

“She has died, then?” asked Theo.

“Oc, she has,” replied Philippe.

“We are sorry for your loss,” I said gently. “We know how she suffered in life. At least she was reunited with you at the end, if only for a short time. That must have been a great ease to her.”

“You are kind to say so,” he said.

“I hope that her death was a peaceful one,” I continued.

“Peaceful,” he spat. “She deserved a soft bed, angelic music playing, and me by her side holding her hand. No, Domna, she was killed. A stupid tawdry accident, and it was my fault.”

“How so, Sieur?” I asked.

“I had so little when we were exiled,” he said. “I wanted to find a place where she would be taken care of, where there would be no walls, where she could feel the sun and the fresh air. A place where she could spend her remaining life peacefully while I went to the Holy Land to atone for my sins and earn my fortune so that I could provide for her in her old age. A place where she would not be persecuted by men.”

“Oh, God!” I said as a sudden sickening realization hit me. “Gémenos. You put her in Gémenos, didn’t you?”

“I thought she would be safe there.”

“A stampede,” I whispered. “She was crushed to death by a herd of cattle, wasn’t she?”

He leapt back from the table in horror. “What witchcraft is this?” he cried. “How did you know?”

“We were there recently,” explained Theo hastily. “My wife heard the story, but we did not know it was your mother. Again, our condolences, Sieur. May Our Savior watch over your pilgrimage and keep you safe.”

He grabbed my arm and dragged me out of there, the others following in confusion. My last sight of Philippe was of him holding up his cross in front of himself to ward me off.

“He put her in a death trap,” I cried as they escorted me back. “He put her with Folc’s wife, this poor mad woman. And Hélène found out who she was. Lady Mathilde was murdered, don’t you see? Hélène killed her, and got her brother to leave that message for Folc. This wasn’t about his vengeance. It was about hers. All along it was her.”

“She must have panicked when she heard we were investigating it,” said Theo. “She sent us to her brother so that he would know to go after us if we continued on to Montpellier.”

“We have to go to Gémenos, Theo,” I said. “We have to see her. She’s the last piece of the story.”

“Poor woman,” said Pantalan.

“Which one?” asked Theo.

“Both of them,” said Pantalan. “By the way, it’s been a long time, but don’t you think young Philippe bears a striking resemblance to his father at that age?”

“You knew the Hawk?” asked Theo.

“No, but I knew Folquet,” he said. “I wonder if the boy knows.”

“I doubt it,” said Theo. “It is not our place to tell him. There’s enough woe in his life. Let him vanish beyond the sea.”

“I wonder if he sings,” said Helga.

*   *   *

We loaded up our wain immediately upon our return.

“I am not going to say good-bye this time,” said Pantalan. “If I do, you’ll only show up again. Tell Folquet that his prick has gotten us in much too much trouble, and that I sincerely hope it has fallen off.”

“If it hasn’t, we might arrange something,” I said.

“You must let me know what you learn,” said Pantalan. “I am beside myself with curiosity.”

“We will,” said Theo. “Until then.”

We could not make Gémenos by nightfall, so we made camp. Helga took the first watch without being told. We rose at dawn, none of us having had much rest.

We reached the Valley of the Eagles by midmorning. In the distance, we could see members of Hélène’s order on the hillside with their herd.

“How do you think she did it?” asked Theo. “How do you stampede cattle?”

“With dogs,” I said. “A pair of dogs so obedient that they become an extension of your own will. She had such a pair with her when I met her. God, she sat and told me all about Lady Mathilde’s death, and she smiled as she did it. It was a joke to her, and we only just got it.”

“It’s how you tell it,” he said grimly. “How do you want to handle this? She may be dangerous.”

“So are we,” I said. “Let us all go. Watch out for cows.”

The women watched as we approached. One detached herself from the group and walked up to us. “What would you here?” she demanded curtly.

“We seek Hélène of Marseille,” I said.

“You are the ones who saw her before,” she said.

“Oc, Domna.”

“She is not here,” she said, and turned to leave.

“Please, Domna, we must see her,” I begged. “There may be lives at risk.”

“I told you she is not here,” she said.

“Where is she?” asked Theo.

“She left,” said the woman. “Two days ago, a man rode into Gémenos and sought her out. They spoke, and she started screaming and tearing at her face and clothes. Something about her brother’s death, and then the most vile imprecations against her husband. Is it true that Sieur Julien is dead? He was a great patron to us, thanks to his sister.”

“We heard nothing about it in Marseille,” I said. “Tell us, Domna, when did she leave?”

“We had to subdue her to keep her from doing further harm to herself,” she said. “I gave her something to help her sleep, but when we woke the next morning, she was gone.”

“Let me ask you this, Domna,” I said. “There was a death here, maybe two months ago. A new member of your order.”

“That is none of your business,” she said.

“I am afraid that it is,” I said. “Her name was Mathilde, was it not?”

She was silent, then nodded briefly. “She was new to our ways,” she said. “As a novitiate, she had to learn how to tend to the herd.”

“Who was tending the cattle with her when it happened?” I asked.

“What does that have to do with anything?” she asked. “It was an accident, a horrible stupid accident.”

“Who was with her?” I shouted. “Was it Hélène?”

“Oc, but you cannot—”

“Was she on foot or on horseback?” asked Theo.

“We have only the two horses for the wagons,” she said. “She left them.”

“Alone and on foot,” said Theo, thinking.

“She’s not alone,” said the woman. “She took her dogs with her.”

“She has a day and a half lead,” Theo said to me. “But she has to go through the massif to get to Le Thoronet, and she’s on foot. I can catch up to her if I leave you here.”

“Go. We’ll be all right,” I said.

“What are you talking about?” demanded the woman.

“There will be time for explanations later,” I said. “Theo, take us to the farmhouse we stayed at.”

He turned us away from the hillside as the woman stared after us dumbfounded. We reached the farmhouse in short order. He jumped down from the wain and unhitched Zeus. Helga tossed him his saddle, and he threw it on the horse’s back.

We came down to join him. He gave Helga a quick hug, kissed the baby, then kissed me much harder.

“You be careful,” I said. “A woman out of her mind can be more dangerous than you know.”

“I learned that lesson a long time ago,” he said, smiling at me.

He kissed me one more time, then vaulted onto Zeus’s back.

“If I am not back within a week, go back to Marseille,” he said. “I will find you at Pantalan’s. Oh, and you had better take these.”

He reached into his pouch and pulled out a pair of scrolls, which he tossed to me. Then he waved and kicked his heels into Zeus’s flanks. The horse shot off like an arrow.

I looked at the scrolls in my hand, then opened them carefully.

“What are they?” asked Helga, looking at them over my shoulder.

“This one frees me if he ever joins holy orders,” I said. “This one is his will.”

“Sealed by a notary,” she said, impressed.

I watched the pair of them galloping up the road through the forest.

“You son of a bitch!” I screamed after him. “Don’t you dare make me use these!”

Then I collapsed to the ground, weeping until Portia crawled into my lap and demanded to be nursed again.

FOURTEEN

Farai o doncs aissi co·l joglars fai,

aissi com muoc mon lais lo fenirai …

[I will do as a joglar does / and end my verse as I began it…]

—FOLQUET DE MARSEILLE,
“S’AL COR PLAGUES, BEN FOR’OIMAIS SAZOS”
[TRANS. N. M. SCHULMAN]

There are two ways up a mountain. One is to take the easy road, trotting safely back and forth using the switchbacks, laboriously repeating yourself, getting a little farther up each time until you reach the top and have to come back down the other side the same way.