James Patterson - The Jester

“ ‘In all the world’ is right , Hugh De Luc.” She smiled, her eyes twinkling. “For it feels as though I have traveled it to find you.”

How I ached to wrap her in my arms. I did not know what feelings had brought her here-or even what feelings were my own. So I held back. She was still a noble, and I was there in torn rags and a patched skirt.

“I’m sorry for your trouble.” I shook my head. “But you are a sight for dreaming eyes no matter how far you’ve come. But how …? How did you find me here?”

[260] “You said you were from the south.” Emilie picked up her satchel and walked up to me. “So I merely went to the spot where we found you on the road and continued south. And south. And south even more. Every village we passed, I asked, ‘Is there a very strange person here who has come from Borée, who wears a jester’s suit?’ I had gone so far south I thought I would hear Spanish, when this nice boy answered, ‘Yes, ma’am. You must mean Hugh.’ I thanked God to hear that word, since we could not drag ourselves one more mile. This is Elena.” She waved her attendant forward. “She accompanied me on the trip.”

“Elena.” I bowed. “I have seen you at Borée.”

The servant curtsied wearily, clearly delighted their journey had come to an end.

I turned back to Emilie. “So tell me, how have you come here?” I shook my head. “And why?”

“Because I promised I would see you again. Because I told you I would do what I could do to find you the answers you sought. I will explain later.”

“And you came all this way alone? The two of you? Do you not know the risk you took?”

“I told Anne that I had arranged a visit to my aunt Isabel in Toulon. There was such commotion in Borée with Stephen’s return, I am sure she was happy to be rid of me. We were escorted on our way by a party of priests headed south on a pilgrimage.”

“But your aunt? When you fail to arrive in Toulon, you will be missed.”

Emilie bit her lip guiltily. “My aunt Isabel does not know. There never was any visit. I made it up.”

I broke into a wide grin. “You have taken on the world to visit me. But enough questions. You and Elena must be tired. And hungry. I’m afraid we have no castles in these parts.” I smiled. “But there is no shortage of hospitality. Come, I know just the place.”

[261] I threw her leather satchel over my back and walked with them across the square. Everyone had come out and was staring. It must have seemed an incredible sight: Hugh, who had come back from his travels without a denier in his pocket, in torn and preposterous clothes, with this very special visitor.

A woman of highborn stature. A noble … And a most beautiful one.

I took Emilie and Elena to the inn. “This was our inn.” I nodded. “I have taken up the work to rebuild it.”

I noticed a glint of approval light up Emilie’s eyes. “It is good work, Hugh.”

“It’s no castle, I know. But you’ll be warm and comfortable. It’s got a good roof and a hearth.”

“I am honored. Don’t you think, Elena? I have heard the fare in such country places is quite good. And they say the innkeeper’s quite cute.”

I smiled. “Then welcome, ladies. To the Château De Luc. You will be my first guests!”

THERE WAS A BIG CELEBRATION in town that night.

We ate at Odo’s table, which filled most of his hut. His wife, Lisette, cooked, helped by Marie, the miller’s wife. There were Odo and Georges, my closest friends, and Father Leo. And, of course, Emilie.

A special meal was prepared, a goose roasted in the hearth. With carrots and turnips and peas, a soup of vegetables in a garlicky broth, and fresh bread that we dipped in the soup. There was no wine, but the priest brought along a cask of Belgian ale he’d been saving for the bishop’s visit. By our standards, it was a rare feast.

Odo played the flute, and we all pitched in with chansons. The children danced as if it were Mid-summer’s Eve. And I performed a few tricks, a flip or two. Everyone laughed and danced, Emilie too. For a few hours, we forgot the past.

All the while I could not keep my gaze far from the brightness of Emilie’s eyes. They were as light as the moon, and just as genuine. She clapped and laughed as Odo’s kids tried to reproduce my flips, as if this were the most natural role in the world for her. She told them of life in the castle. It was a golden evening, free from all barriers and stations in life.

Afterward, I walked with her back to the inn. There was a chill in the air, and Emilie huddled tightly in her cloak. Part of [263] me wanted to put my arm around her; another part quivered with nerves.

We walked amid the noises of the night-owls hooting., other birds fluttering in the trees. A bright round moon peeked through the clouds. I asked her, “How is Norbert? His health?”

“He is fine again,” Emilie said, “except he is still unable to do that trick with the chains. But things have changed since Stephen’s return. The Tafurs are everywhere, and the duke is behind them.”

“Stephen and Anne,” I replied.

“Anne…” Emilie stopped, hesitating. “I believe with all my heart she did not act of her own accord.”

“You mean the raids she directed in her husband’s absence, the slaughter and mayhem, these were not hers?”

“I only meant that she behaved from fear. I do not justify it. She said something to me, Hugh, that I did not understand. I pressed her on why she allowed these things to occur, and she said, ‘If I knew the person we sought all along was at Borée, your jester would be as dead as his wife.’ ”

I shook my head in confusion.

“She called you the innkeeper from the Crusade. It was why they took your wife. But she claimed she did not know this was you.”

“Why? Why in God’s name would they want me?”

“Because you hold ‘the greatest prize in Christendom.’ ” Emilie tilted her head to me. “And do not know. That is what Anne says.”

“The greatest prize in Christendom…” I started to laugh. “Are they mad? Look around you. I have nothing. All that I had they’ve already taken.”

“I told her the same. But you were there, Hugh, in the Crusade. Perhaps they confuse you with someone else.”

We had arrived at the inn. Emilie shivered in the cold night air, and I ached to hold her, just for a moment. I would have [264] given anything to have her in my arms. Even “the greatest prize in Christendom.”

“I brought something for you, Hugh. I have it here.” We ducked inside the door. By the fiery hearth, Elena was already asleep on her mat. Emilie went over to her satchel.

She came back with a calfskin pouch cinched at the top, and from it removed a wooden box the size of my two palms. It was finely engraved, the mark of a craftsman, with an ornate letter C on its lid.

She placed the box in my hands and stepped back. “This belongs to you, Hugh. It’s why I came.”

I stood there examining the box a moment, then lifted the tiny latch and opened the lid.

Burning tears welled in my eyes. Immediately I knew what the box contained.

Ashes.

Sophie’s ashes …

“Her body was cremated the following day,” Emilie said softly. “I went and gathered these. The priests say her soul will not reach Heaven unless she is buried.”

A knot rose in my chest and throat. I took the deepest breath, as if sucking air into every fiber in my body. “You cannot know how much I treasure this gift, Emilie.”

“As I said, Hugh, it belongs to you.”

I wrapped my arms around her and drew her close. I felt her heart beating against mine.