Jester Leaps In: A Medieval Mystery Page 14

  Claudius looked at me.

  “Are we impressed?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I replied. I turned to our new friend. “You’re a senator and the chief of the civil service. Which means you’re powerless in two different ways.”

  He leaned back and laughed until he nearly choked.

  “By God, it’s true!” he roared. “I am a functionary. No more, no less. The Senate meets every day down in the Great Palace, while the real strings are all being pulled up at Blachernae.” He leaned forward, suddenly quiet and serious. “Where the two of you will be entertaining as of tomorrow.”

  “Ah,” I said, unsurprised. “What are you looking for?”

  “Fools have a license to mock freely before the Emperor,” he said. “Although I did not hear you speak earlier, I assumed that your humor was not merely physical. And in the short space of time we’ve been talking, you’ve confirmed to me that your wits are of the highest quality.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So, I was wondering what the price of mockery is nowadays.”

  “It depends on what you want.”

  “To direct it at an intimate of the Emperor.”

  “You want to pay me to ridicule someone. Who?”

  He shook his head. “First, I must know if you will do it. Otherwise, I might be placing myself in some jeopardy by revealing who my enemy is. Information travels so quickly around here.”

  “Then I must refuse,” I said. “If a person of your stature is afraid of this person, I am certainly not going to take any risks on your behalf. Especially on such short acquaintance. We’ve only been in the city for a few days. Until we know all of the ins and outs of the palace, who’s who and doing what to who else, we cannot afford to play any favorites.”

  “I understand entirely,” he said, smiling. “Well, it was worth the discussion. I truly enjoyed your performance, by the way.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Did I detect a satirical tone to your choice of material?”

  “Material, meaning subject matter? Or meaning bricks?”

  “Both. I thought it might have been intended to be a bit allegorical. We live in a city that depends upon the state of the walls surrounding it. Here were the embodiments of prudent wall-building and prodigal living for the moment, pitched in battle. Believe me, the topic has been of no little concern for those of us who wonder about the future of the Empire.”

  “Sounds like a worthy topic for debate down in the Senate.”

  He winced. “That’s all we ever do there. We talk. I think that the Senate only exists in case the government is overthrown again. We have no authority until there is no authority. Then we have some—if the army and the people are willing to go along with us. Where were you before you came here?”

  “Elsewhere.”

  “Anywhere near Venice?”

  “No.”

  “Hm. A pity. I’m interested in knowing what they’re up to. Crusaders are geniuses at creating difficulty. They always expect you to believe that their cause is so holy that you should just roll over and give them supplies and right of free passage, and before you know it, there’s a German army camped in your courtyard. You might want to mention to our Emperor that he should rouse himself from his lethargic revels and think about the walls some more.”

  “Is this something you want to pay me to do?”

  “I thought it was something you would do for free.”

  “Maybe. I’ll think about it.” I stood and offered my hand. “Thanks for dinner.”

  “A pleasure, my friends. Stop by anytime and share some gossip.”

  We had time to talk during our walk back, each holding one handle of the cart.

  “Suddenly, we are a valued commodity,” observed Claudius. “Will others be attempting to purchase our services?”

  “Possibly. Anyone with access to the Emperor becomes a target. The best course is to refuse all of them and go our own way. I wonder if any of the other fools had been approached like that.”

  “Would they have accepted such a bribe?”

  “I doubt it, but you never know. We’re human, and we have our weaknesses. It would be especially tempting if a fool was asked to target someone he was planning to attack anyway. A little easy money on the side.”

  “I’m so glad that you’re incorruptible. By money, anyway.”

  “Thank you. I wonder who our friend Niketas dislikes so much?”

  “Maybe someone will bribe us to make fun of him. Then we’ll know.”

  We pulled up to the Rooster and wheeled our cart in back.

  “The next step is to find out the identity of the bald man we smoked out,” I said. “It would be nice if we could get him to speak somewhere near Zintziphitzes. If he could identify the voice, then we’d be certain.”

  “Let’s see him tomorrow before we go to Blachernae,” she suggested. “Do you want to repeat the brick routine?”

  “Not tomorrow,” I said. “We’ll use the other material.”

  “Good,” she said, stretching. “I am tired of pushing this damn cart. I feel like we’ve gone over every hill in the city today.”

  “And how did milady enjoy performing before a hundred thousand people?”

  She grinned at me. “I felt like I was ready to fly when we finished before the Emperor, and there was no need for that winged contraption, either. If that logothete fellow hadn’t intercepted us, I would have dragged you to the nearest inn and taken a room with a real door in the doorway, thrown you inside, dropped the bar, and had my way with you.”

  “My dear Claudius,” I exclaimed. “For that, I would have turned down the prospect of a free drink. Let me know next time.”

  We went up the steps, waving to our fellow patrons. I was more alert this time, remembering that Thalia had promised to meet us again. So, it was with little surprise that I entered our room to find the cowled figure standing there.

  “Good evening,” I said, sensing Claudius tensing behind me. “You’ve come earlier than expected.”

  “I was unaware that I was expected,” came Father Esaias’s voice from under the cowl. “But most would prefer me to be too early than too late.”

  ELEVEN

  That is no country for old men.

  WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS, “SAILING TO BYZANTIUM”

  I should have spotted it from the hands, once again the only part of the person I could see. Thalia’s were strong, yet still young and supple. These were old and gnarled, although they looked powerful enough to break a neck if necessary.

  “I figured that sooner or later I would be receiving another visit from you,” I said, switching modes as smoothly as I could.

  “Truly, you are a strategist to be reckoned with,” commented Esaias. “Which makes me wonder at the crudeness of your earlier tactics with my man.”

  “It seemed like the right approach at the time,” I said, stalling until I found out whom he was talking about.

  “He’s such a harmless little one,” he continued. “At least, he is now, hawking his useless little talismans to the gullible. He was quite the pickpocket until the drink and disease destroyed his abilities. Now, he brings in a small but regular amount, and we take care of him as we do all of our people.”

  “It is wonderful what your church does for the needy,” I said.

  “We look out for them more than the True Church does,” he said. “More than either of the True Churches. Say what you will about us. We may all burn in Hell, but we will have provided for each other more than those looking down upon us from Heaven.”

  He looked out the window, nodded slightly, then turned back to us. Claudius immediately stood with her back to mine and watched the hallway for signs of trouble, her hand on her sword.

  “Terrifying the weak is hardly sporting,” continued Esaias. “Mind you, it is how I make a substantial part of my living. But all you took was one item, a fact so odd that it aroused my curiosity more than my ire. May I see it?”

  I
reached into my pouch and removed the ring I had retrieved from the relic seller. I placed it in his hands, and he held it up to the light.

  “Demetrios,” he pronounced finally. “So it is true that he is dead?”

  “According to your man,” I said.

  “Relic sellers shouldn’t be grave robbing,” he said sadly. “It only angers the grave robbers, and then I have to smooth things over between them. Without the grave robbers, where would the relic sellers get their relics?”

  “It did seem out of his line,” I commented.

  “One might say that robbery is out of yours,” he replied. “Yet the story I’ve been hearing is that you are seeking out another fool because the two of you collaborated on some theft years ago, and now you’re back to claim your share.”

  I shrugged and said nothing.

  “Frankly, I don’t believe it,” he said. “I am in my own way a fisher of men. I knew both Demetrios and Tiberius. I believe that you are akin to them. You lack that inner stench of true depravity. Oh, do not protest, Fool. I have a nose for that sort of thing. And if you are in fact cut from the same motley as they are, then I suspect that you are a subtle fellow up to some good.”

  I shook my head admiringly. He was one of those men who had lived so long in the world that all pretense had been stripped away. Master of the underworld he may have been, but he was the most direct person I had met in this Byzantine city.

  “Then, as one subtle fellow to another, where do we stand?” I asked.

  “Tiberius and Demetrios both had occasion over the years to seek my help, whether it be information or influence. I had occasion to seek theirs as well. I am proposing, not exactly a friendship, but an alliance. That is, if you are truly their brother and not merely a greedy interloper.”

  “And how will trust be established? Shall we exchange favors? Must I wear your handkerchief?”

  “Good Fool, you will make me blush like a young girl if you continue. No, I propose to exchange something essential to us both. You there, Claudius.”

  She started, but did not look at him.

  “Come now, sirrah,” he admonished her. “Do not be overzealous on your master’s behalf. I merely ask that you go downstairs and fetch a bucket of water.”

  “How do I know that you haven’t signaled your men to take me the moment I reach the bottom step?” she asked.

  “Because if that was my desire, you would have been taken before you even came up here,” he replied.

  “Feste?” she said, looking at me.

  “Go on, Apprentice,” I said. “I think I understand what he wants from me.”

  She drew her sword, and stepped carefully down the hallway, glancing at each doorway before passing it. I watched her descend until her head was completely out of view. An eternity passed. Then I heard her footsteps returning, accompanied by a sloshing sound. I was never so relieved as when I saw her head pop back into view at the top of the stairs.

  She placed the bucket between Esaias and myself and assumed her post at the door.

  “How many of my people did you spot?” queried Father Esaias.

  “Four in the tavern, five more outside,” she replied.

  “Impressive,” he said. “You only missed three.”

  “You’re bluffing,” she said. “Four in the tavern, five outside. Not that it matters; they’re more than enough.”

  He stepped forward. “Well, Fool?” he said. “Is it a truce?”

  “All right,” I said. “You first.”

  He pulled the cowl back from his head, letting it hang loose down his back. The face was old, the cheeks sunken. An ancient scar ran up his left cheek, crossing where the eye would have been and continuing to the top of his head. The surviving eye was dark brown, a bit rheumy. It was blinking rapidly.

  “Look quickly, Fool,” he said, showing yellowed teeth. “I do not like the light for long.”

  “I have you,” I said, and he replaced the cowl.

  “Now it is your turn,” he said.

  I knelt before the bucket and washed the makeup off my face, scrubbing every bit of chalk and flour out of the many wrinkles I knew were there. Then I stood.

  “You’re an older man than I thought,” he observed.

  “You’re about what I expected,” I said.

  “Few live this long in my profession, and those that do rarely end up comely. This is my true face, and you are now one of the few who may identify me. As I now am for you. Now, you have come to learn what happened to the missing fools.”

  “Yes. What do you know of them?”

  “Nothing. They disappeared. My only concern was with Tiberius, who owed a small amount of money to one of my men, but such disappearances are not infrequent around here. To us, it was a matter of minor curiosity. Should it have meant more?”

  “Maybe. How do you feel about the current occupant of the throne?”

  That caught him up short. He folded his arms and leaned against the wall.

  “Even under the terms of our agreement, that’s a dangerous question,” he said finally.

  “I withdraw it. But apparently, my brethren came across a plot against his life. I think whoever was behind it eliminated them.”

  “I’ve heard nothing,” he said. “Which means either it doesn’t exist, it did exist but was abandoned, or the conspirators are very closemouthed indeed. Yet your brethren disappeared last fall. When is this dethroning supposed to take place?”

  “I don’t know. That is the extent of my knowledge. But it existed long enough for someone to kill six people to conceal it.”

  One hand disappeared into the cowl. I tensed slightly, but he was just scratching himself idly.

  “This does concern me quite a bit,” he said finally. “From my standpoint, I don’t want Alexios to be replaced just yet. Thieves depend on the Emperor’s walking a fine line between competence and chaos. I go back a long way in this city. I remember when Manuel reigned. The city was well policed back then, and the Vigla were everywhere. It was hard to make a living, and the prisons were a nightmare. But oddly enough, when Manuel died and Andronikos slew his way to the throne, things got even worse. He was so greedy and unpredictable that there were barely enough pickings left on the carcass for the rest of us. So, when the Angeli took over, you could imagine our happiness. Just enough stability to keep the population fat and happy, and just enough incompetence to let us roam relatively unhindered. The ideal balance, a thieves’ paradise. And we certainly want to keep it going as long as we can.”

  “Then I propose this. Claudius and I will be inside Blachernae as of tomorrow. We will share information with you as it comes up. You do the same with us. There may come a time when I may ask more of you. But in exchange, I may find myself in a position to influence things at court.”

  “A fair bargain, Fool. And, in light of your connection to the late owner of this ring, I will forgo smiting you for your conduct toward my man.”

  He tossed the ring back to me, and walked toward the door. Then he turned and held up one bony finger in warning.

  “This truce will be honored by us unless you violate our trust,” he said. “But violations will be taken seriously.”

  “Understood,” I said. “Thank you for your counsel, Father.”

  He left. We stood at the top of the steps and watched him until he passed through the front door, his bodyguards falling into place behind him.

  “Did we just make a pact with the Devil?” asked Claudius.

  “Possibly. But he’s an intelligent, self-interested Devil. I don’t think we lose anything by it.”

  She looked at me. “I noticed that you didn’t mention anything about Thalia or Zintziphitzes. You even implied that Thalia was dead.”

  “For her protection.”

  “I thought she was a suspect. Why protect her?”

  “Just in case I’m wrong.”

  We rose early the next morning and searched for the preacher. He was neither in his usual square nor the tavern.r />
  “Still at his place,” I guessed. “Shall we descend?”

  We ducked into the alleyway where the tunnel began. No one followed us. I lit a candle, handed it to Claudius, and lifted the flagstones. She lowered herself in carefully. I followed and recovered the entrance.

  “How do you propose getting that bald man within hearing range?” she asked.

  “I’m still working on that,” I said. “Maybe Zintziphitzes will have a few ideas.”

  The rats scampered about freely. They seemed bolder in our presence this morning. Some even came close to challenge us, but a few well-placed kicks sent them squeaking into the gloom.

  “We need our escort,” I commented as we entered the main drainage tunnel. “The natives are certainly more agitated when he’s not with us.”

  “Feste,” she said softly, pointing at the steps to his room.

  The rats were swarming up the steps, practically crawling over one another in their haste to get to the top.

  “Stay here,” I said.

  “We have only one candle,” she replied. “I’m not waiting in the dark for you to return.”

  She drew her sword, the sound of the blade rubbing against the scabbard echoing through the tunnels. I pulled my knife from my boot and started kicking my way up the steps.

  The rats ran down past us. I climbed to the doorway, knowing what I was going to see, not wanting to see it, but not having any choice in the matter.

  They squeak when they are excited or angry. Not a frightening noise by itself, but multiply it by several hundred in a small room under the earth, and it becomes terrifying. They were fighting over him, a small verminous war.

  “Old men should be allowed to die of old age,” I said, shaking with sorrow and anger. “If you live that long, you should die in your own bed. Not be cut down like this.”

  “He could have just died,” she said, hanging on to me.

  I grabbed a torch from the wall and lit it with the candle. The body was prone, one hand stretching toward the shelves. I looked in that direction to see a knife resting on the lowest shelf. There was blood everywhere. His cloak lay in tatters on the floor, his stick broken in two nearby.