[Fools' Guild 08] - The Parisian Prodigal (26 page)

“So, I decided to go back into Julie’s past. There I found a husband, a servant who disappeared with his master’s son. I thought, if he came back, he may very well have something to hide. I thought, if she recognized him, he might have a reason to kill her. And I thought, if she recognized him, maybe Sylvie could as well.”

She paused to take a goblet of wine handed to her by a servant.

“My thanks, all this talking is thirsty work,” she said. “So, I arranged for them to be in the same place to see what would happen.”

“What if he kept his composure?” asked the count.

“I didn’t think that he would,” said Claudia. “He had seen his wife reduced to whoredom because he had failed in whatever mission de Planes had sent him on. He had seen her take his new master to bed with a taunt on her face. He had killed her. And then he was so stricken that he still came to her funeral, under the pretext that he was investigating on behalf of his master. But Hue was supposedly in Toulouse for the first time. How could he expect to know anyone at a local funeral? No, Dominus, he was under tremendous strain. I did not think his protective shell could withstand another assault.”

“It didn’t withstand her dagger, either,” I whispered to Helga.

A soldier entered and whispered something to the bade. The bade immediately came to the count and whispered in his ear.

“Bring him,” ordered the count.

The bade signaled to the soldier, who left immediately.

“I am told that the surgeons have stanched the bleeding,” said the count. “They have saved him for the hangman. Shall we hear what he has to say?”

“Oc, Dominus,” said Claudia.

“For this, you should sit by me, Domina Fool,” he said, and a chair was immediately placed by his.

She looked up at him with a mixture of expressions I could not read from where I sat.

“I am not used to sitting so high, Dominus,” she said slowly. “I might become dizzy.”

“You get used to it,” said the count, patting the seat. “Come. You have earned it.”

She walked toward him, uncertain at first, but with confidence increasing in every step. By the time she settled gracefully into the chair, it was as though she had been born to be there.

Which she had been, once upon a time.

They brought Hue—no, they brought Pelfort in on a litter, his wrists bound to the poles, his leg wrapped in bloody bandages. The soldiers propped him up so that he would face the count and the lady fool by him.

“You tried to kill an old woman in my courtyard today,” said the count. “That alone would be enough for me to have you hanged. But there is the matter of the young lady you stabbed to death while she slept by your master.”

“She was no lady,” spat Pelfort. “And she was awake. She never thought I would do it. She never thought I would do anything.”

“What happened to young de Planes?” asked the count. “I killed him,” said Pelfort. “I killed him, and I am sorry for it, but I was young and foolish. The plan was to make it look like we were attacked by bandits on the road—“

“The plan?” interrupted Claudia. “Whose plan?”

“Julie’s plan,” said Pelfort. “When she learned we were to travel to Paris to get help. She said it was the perfect opportunity. I would kill Guerau de Planes, and she would be the only descendant of Ferrer. She would get him to leave everything to her. Then we would be—“

He shook his head in disgust.

“I could not deny her anything,” he said. “She was everything to me. A gift from God, rewarding my loyal service. I waited until we were a week’s journey north, then I attacked him. But he sensed it, somehow, and we struggled. I was able to kill him, but not before he had dealt me a grievous wound. I managed to drag him off the road and tumble him into a ravine, but I could not make it back. I lay there for God knows how long before some pilgrims found me and brought me to a town.

“I lay in the hospice for what they told me was months, drifting in and out of fever and nightmare. When the fits and fevers finally passed, I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t face what I had done to my master. I, who had been his loyal servant.”

“Where did you go?” asked the count.

“Anywhere I could find work,” he said. “But I could not stop thinking of how I had betrayed my old master. Finally, I resolved to make it up to him. I decided to complete my original task and go to Paris to appeal to Domina Constance.”

“Constance?” cried the count. “What Constance?”

“The old count’s wife,” said Pelfort. “Your mother.”

“But what had de Planes to do with her?”

“I know not,” said Pelfort. “He had said that he had done her service once, and that he hoped that she could return the same.”

“What service could he have done?” wondered Raimon.

I did not know if anyone present knew the answer to that besides Claudia, Helga, Sancho, and me, but it did not seem the proper moment to volunteer the answer.

“I knew not,” said Pelfort. “But I went to Paris, only to find that she was dead. So I sought out her son, hoping to appeal to his sense of duty. I changed my name, thinking I would give him the information and move on. But he could not help. He was dependent on the good graces of the king, and he had little to spare. He expressed his sympathy, then asked if at the very least, he could take me on as a servant. I was penniless and desperate. I became his man.”

“And you had the audacity to return to Toulouse,” said the count.

“I had inquired of merchants from there as to my master’s old house,” said Pelfort. “I learned that it was in ruins, that the master had disappeared, and that the household was scattered. It had been eighteen years, and I thought no one would recognize me. But I was wrong.”

“Why did you kill her?” asked Claudia.

“Because she said she would expose me,” said Pelfort. “She put on a display of her whorish ways and took Baudoin to bed, and I knew she was twisting the knife with every sinful word she whispered in his ear. I sat in that parlor, hearing her cries of false passion from above. I could not sleep. I kept seeing Guerau’s bloody face staring up at me.

“In the morning, when I went up to summon him, she was awake. She looked at me and said, ‘You put me here. We could have been masters of a great house, but you failed, as you always do.’ ‘But I didn’t fail,’ I said. ‘I killed him.’ She ignored me. ‘I will see that you pay for what you did to me,’ she said. ‘I will see that you hang for Guerau’s death.’ And she smiled at the thought, and I picked up Baudoin’s dagger and stabbed her before I could even think.”

He stopped, the sweat running off of his brow.

“Do you wish to be brought to Assizes?” asked the count.

“It would be a waste of time,” said Pelfort. “I have not long, I think.”

The Abbess rose, strode angrily to the center, and knelt before the count.

“Give him to us, Dominus,” she said. “Let us have our revenge.”

“No,” said the count. “You will have justice, not revenge. Your hands will not be bloodied.”

“She was killed in our house,” said the Abbess.

“You are the mistress of that house,” said the count. “But I am the master of this one. My house is Toulouse, and I shall see that the law is carried out. Hang him at noon tomorrow.”

The soldiers picked up the litter and carried him away.

The Abbess stood, looked scornfully about the room, then turned and left. Sylvie hurried after her.

“Where is Baudoin?” asked the count.

“Here, Dominus,” said Baudoin, approaching him.

“This man’s story might be said to bear out yours,” said the count.

“I will not have my identity vouchsafed by a murderer,” said Baudoin. “I will await the proofs from Paris, by your leave.”

“Nobly spoken, no matter what your history,” said Raimon, smiling. “You don’t mind moving into a room here at the château until then, do you?”

“I have had a room here at the château for several days,” said Baudoin. “If you mean one in a different building, then by all means, Dominus.”

“Done,” said the count.

“Domina Fool, what may I do to repay you for my life?” asked Baudoin.

Claudia sat for a moment, then leaned over to the count and whispered in his ear. He thought for a second, then nodded.

She got up from her seat, approached Baudoin, and slapped him as hard as she could. He fell to the floor, then sat up, rubbing his cheek in astonishment.

“Live your life without humiliating another woman, and you will have repaid me,” said Claudia. “But someone should have done that to you years ago.”

She looked over at Helga and me.

“There’s a baby waiting for us,” she said.

“Right,” I said. “Dominus, by your leave.”

“You have it,” said the count. “Thank you, Fools, as always, for the entertainment.”

“It’s what we do,” said Claudia.

I
n the morning
, the baby cried, and I was out of bed before my wife had a chance to kick me more than twice. I picked

Portia up, changed her linens, then took her down to the lower room and fed her. Then I wrote a letter.

We were playing happily together when Claudia and Helga came down, fully dressed.

“Where are you two off to so early?” I asked.

“We cannot tell you,” said Claudia.

“Are you going to the hanging later?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Claudia. “Are you?”

“I think that I will,” I said. “I like seeing justice done. By the way, I don’t know if I have told you this lately, but you are the most extraordinary woman I have ever known.”

“Thank you,” she said, kissing me.

“Before you go, I want you to see this,” I said, handing her the letter I had written.

She glanced at it quickly, then more carefully. When she was done, she looked up at me, her eyes glistening.

“Careful,” I said, dabbing at them with my napkin. “You’ll ruin your makeup.”

“Thank you,” she said. “For everything.”

“It is up to Father Gerald to decide whether or not he will permit us to travel,” I said. “And it won’t be until we see Folc actually installed as the Bishop, but I think we should be able to leave come October. You should be able to see your children for Christmas if all goes well.”

“Always a fearsome holiday for us, isn’t it?” she said, smiling through the tears.

“We’ll have to find some way to keep them from locking you in a tower and me in a dungeon,” I said.

“We’ll figure out something,” she said. “We’re smarter than everyone else, remember?”

“And there’s me,” added Helga. “I’ll break you out. I’m the best lock-picker in the house.”

“I would say the best in the family,” I said.

“The family?” she repeated, her eyes wide.

“Claudia and I spoke about your situation last night,” I said. “We’re going to adopt you.”

“Theo!” she squealed, jumping on me and hugging me hard.

“How soon can we marry her off?” I asked Claudia.

“A few more years,” she said, as Helga transferred the hug to her.

“Going to need another dowry now,” I sighed. “Get out, the two of you. All of this emotion is making me nervous.”

“See you at the hanging!” Helga called as they left.

T
he gallows was set
up outside the Palace of Justice. Vendors ringed the courtyard, selling roasted chestnuts, apples, and sweetmeats. I looked around for my wife and newest daughter, but I didn’t see them in the crowd. I did see Llora de Bretanha, resplendent in a sea-green gown, her figure still capable of attracting a few glances from men who did double-takes when they saw her white hair.

Being a tall man, I felt no need to maneuver my way to the front. I bought some apples and sliced a few pieces off for my daughter. I made sure that the sling prevented her from seeing what was going on.

There was a roar from the crowd, then Pelfort was carried out, still unable to walk thanks to my wife’s skill with a dagger. They hauled him up the steps, and the noose was settled around his neck, then tightened.

The baile stepped forward to read the sentence, but there was a commotion by the gates before he could start.

“Let us through!” cried a woman’s voice. “We are here to see justice in Toulouse!”