Jester Leaps In: A Medieval Mystery (23 page)

His logic was compelling. Of course, I was the one tied to a chair with a dagger at my throat, so my ability to reason was somewhat hampered.

“Zintziphitzes overheard two men plotting against Alexios,” I said. “Back in November. He brought the information to the fools who were working here.”

“Why to the fools?” asked Philoxenites.

“Because they had access to the Emperor and Empress, and it was the only way he could reach them,” I said. “He thought no one else would take him seriously.”

“Then why didn’t the fools bring it to the Emperor and Empress?”

“Because they wanted to check this story out first for themselves. And inside of a week, every one of them had disappeared.”

“This was in November?”

“Yes.”

“But there has been no attempt on the Emperor since then.”

“Zintziphitzes believed that the assassins were waiting for a particular event to occur.”

“When did you speak with him?”

“A few days ago.”

I recounted the full conversation for him. He listened, playing idly with the dagger.

“So, you smoked me out at the games,” he said. “I was curious as to what started that little fire, but paid it no further mind. And you decided I was behind this conspiracy.”

“You were my chief suspect,” I said.

“Your use of the past tense suggests that you have changed your mind,” he said, pleased. “Or, that you’re being pragmatic.”

“I’m still alive,” I said. “That counts for something.”

“It is too bad that your only witness is dead.”

He looked at me for a long time. I couldn’t read his expression.

“I saw your friends perform for many years,” he said finally. “I couldn’t help noticing that concealed amidst the foolery was a great deal of good advice, something that a succession of emperors followed to their benefit. I observed, however, that when presented with the opportunity today, you chose not to give any.”

“Any fool can give advice, but the fool who seeks to stay in service should study his situation before doing so.”

“A wise policy. Our current lord and master doted on the dwarves. They had been here so long that they understood Constantinople perhaps better than anybody. When they disappeared
so abruptly, a few of us suspected that they were persuaded to leave by someone jealous of their influence. But I had no idea that they were murdered.”

He stepped behind my chair, out of sight, not out of mind.

“Not that the idea offends me,” he continued. I flinched as the dagger touched the nape of my neck. “It’s a sound tactic. But, as it didn’t come from me, it is one I would like to see fail.”

He withdrew the blade and untied the ropes.

“All of these fools you mentioned . . . they worked together?”

“Except for Zintziphitzes,” I said, shaking my hands until I could feel them again.

“Which was why he survived for so long,” he mused. “And you showed up after hearing about the disappearances. Why you? Who sent you?”

I shook my head. He waved the dagger at me.

“I wish to make two points quite clear,” he said. “Firstly, as far as I am concerned, I now own you. “You live at my sufferance. Don’t be so foolish as to make any attempts on my life. I am certain that you are capable of accomplishing it, but you will not see the sun set again if you do.”

“Is that one point or two?” I asked.

“Secondly,” he said, ignoring me. “We have not had this conversation. Nor will we be having the several other conversations that we will be having on a daily basis. In the meantime, I will be making some inquiries of my own.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “May I go now, milord?”

He opened the door, and the two Varangians came in.

“Take him away,” he ordered them.

I hoped that that meant they weren’t going to kill me. Some agreed-upon signal, and off with his head. But I found myself outside the gate to Blachernae in no time at all.

“I saw your act at the Hippodrome,” one of them said pleasantly. “I liked it. Me mates said you were good at the baths, too.”

“Thank you,” I said.

They gave an ironic salute and went back inside. I turned and started gulping air like a man escaped from drowning. Good air in this city, filled with smoke and spices and sweat.

“They say a cat has nine lives,” said a voice behind me. “How many does a fool have?”

I turned to see Captain Stanislaus leaning in a doorway.

“And if a coward dies a thousand deaths, but a hero only once, then how many must a cowardly cat die?” I replied.

He nodded in the direction of my Varangian escort.

“Usually when I see those two with someone, the someone is being dumped in the harbor,” he said. “What’s the secret of your survival?”

“People think I’m more useful alive,” I said.

“Are you?”

“Never underestimate the value of entertainment, my good Captain.”

I slung my bag over my shoulder. Stanislaus left his post and fell into step beside me.

“I hear you lost a neighbor last night,” he said.

“You are exceptionally well informed,” I replied.

“And your partner, Claudius, has suddenly left town. Why?”

“I don’t know. When you see him, ask him.”

“I plan to. It’s too bad he broke up the act. You were quite good together.”

“It is too bad. But that’s life. I’ve worked solo before.”

“Do you think he killed Asan?”

“No. Do you?”

“Possibly.”

“Then bring your suspicions to the Vigla. Sounds more like something in their line than yours.”

“Listen, Fool,” he said, grabbing my shoulder. “You arrive in town, and within a week the Empire takes you to its bosom. Yet in that same time, someone close to you is stabbed to death. You are carrying some evil omen, and this concerns me.”

“No need to be concerned on my behalf.”

“Why were you so anxious to perform at Blachernae?”

“Because that’s where the money is, Captain. Street juggling is fun, but I want to live well.”

“Is there a threat to the Emperor?” he demanded.

I looked at him. His normal swagger had been replaced by an air of uncertainty.

“You tell me,” I said. “How the hell should I know?”

“Asan was killed in your room,” he said. “Perhaps in your place.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“A little minx told me.
Stultorum numerus . . .”

“Get stuffed!” I spat, shaking his hand off.

“She said you would know . . ..,” he said falteringly.

“Who said that?”

“Thalia. A fool.”

“I heard she was dead.”

“But . . .”

“Protect your own damn emperor. What does any of this have to do with me?”

“Aren’t you a Guild fool?”

“No. They can go to hell. A fool can’t even work anymore without the Guild getting in his way.”

“I need your help,” he said quietly.

I turned in exasperation.

“Last time I checked, you had the entire Imperial Guard at your disposal,” I said.

He looked around to make sure no one was within earshot.

“There’s no one I can trust,” he said.

“Why trust me?”

“You have no idea what it’s like in Blachernae. Everyone is plotting against everyone else. Some for power, some for wealth, some for women, and some just to keep what they already have. It’s gotten to the point that even those who want the same thing can’t set their rivalries aside long enough to work for it.”

“What are you in it for?” I asked.

“I’m a bit old-fashioned. I’m loyal to the Emperor.”

I laughed.

“There are so many bizarre things in this city,” I said. “A loyal soldier may be at the top of the list. No offense, Captain, but I don’t see what good I could possibly do you. I’m just a fool, after all.”

“You’ll be around Alexios and his retinue. Just keep your eyes and ears open. Jesters may be privy to things that guards are not. And if you learn anything, bring it to me.”

“You may have to get in line, Captain. Tell you what . . . if Thalia’s still alive, send her along to the Rooster.” I made as if to leave, then turned and leered at him. “We used to have some fine old times, Thalia and me.”

Before I could take another step, he was on me, shoving me against a wall.

“If you say one more word about her, I’ll kill you myself,” he said, choking out the words.

“It’s like that with you, is it?” I said. “Be careful, Captain. Cats have claws and teeth for a reason. I’ll be at the Rooster.”

He released his hold, and I walked away. I glanced behind me
once. He was still standing by the wall, arms folded, watching me.

Well, life was getting complicated again. My very presence was stirring things up, which was good as long as I lived to do something about it. I wondered who else would approach me.

The Captain must have had a friend at the Rooster if he knew about Asan’s death. Unless Thalia told him. I wanted to talk to her again. Bad enough giving out the Guild’s password like that, although we were long overdue for a change. Malvolio had known it, and had used it to gain my confidence back in Orsino, but he had infiltrated the Guild long before I found him out. But I had never discovered whom he was working for, if anyone. It seemed like simple revenge at the time, but now I was beginning to suspect he was part of some larger plan.

That evening, the atmosphere at the Rooster was decidedly subdued at dinner. Not surprising, given the death in the family. The mutual suspicions did not help. Every time someone reached for his knife to slice some bread, hands jumped to waists and sleeves and any other place where a weapon might be at the ready. Many of them looked to me to brighten things up, but I was in a foul mood myself. There had been no word from Claudius, and I was too wrapped up in the Blachernae business to go out searching for her. A good husband would probably have dropped everything to find her, but I guess I had a way to go in that area.

Asan’s room—my room—was empty when I retired for the evening. A nice change. I closed the door and dropped the bar, then secured the shutters over the window. I blew out the candle and stretched out in the darkness. Asan’s pallet was much more comfortable than mine. Despite the morbid accommodations, the fears for my wife, and the day’s intrigues, I fell asleep almost immediately.

I woke in the night as a dark form slipped into bed beside me, holding me tight. It was the wrong dark form.

“How did you get in?” I asked drowsily.

“Window,” said Thalia. “It doesn’t latch very well. I had forgotten that you had switched rooms. I almost made the Pecheneg trader in your old one a very happy man.”

She slid her hand inside the tunic of my motley. I grabbed the hand firmly and removed it. By this point, I was awake enough to realize that she didn’t have a stitch on.

“What’s the matter?” she said, sitting up.

“I can’t do this,” I said.

“Why not? Did something happen to you?” she asked. “You said you almost lost a leg. I thought at the time you meant your leg. Did you mean something else?”

“Something happened to me,” I said. “I acquired a wife.”

“No!” she protested. “Settled down? Not Theo. You’re too rootless to be married.”

“I’m not rooted,” I said. “Just married.”

“Where is she now?” she asked.

“Somewhere that way, I think,” I said, pointing west.

“All right then,” she said, sliding her hand back. I intercepted it again.

“I said I was married.”

“I’ve slept with married men before. It’s never been an impediment to either party in my experience. Frequently, it’s an enhancement.”

“Let me clarify for your edification: Married. And faithful.”

She sat up again.

“It’s the scarring, isn’t it?” she said, resting her hands on her chin. “It’s put you off.”

“No,” I said. “If it weren’t for the wife, I’d be happily entwined. We could compare scars in the dark.”

“I suppose that sounds like fun. But if she’s back west . . .”

“It’s no great feat to be faithful to a wife who’s around,” I said, cutting her off in midproposition. “The true test is being faithful when you’re apart.”

“Noble old you,” she snorted. “And I suppose you think she’s being faithful while you’re gone.”

“She’s a veritable Penelope,” I said. “I’ll have to kill her fifty suitors when I return.”

“Ooh, I know that story! Could I be Circe? Please?”

“It won’t work. Most men are swine before they meet you. Your enchantment is of a different sort.”

“Flatterer.” Thalia stood up, felt around the floor for her garments, and began dressing.

“Why are you so interested in seducing me?” I asked.

She stiffened in the darkness.

“I thought I could weasel my way back into your good graces that way,” she said.

“You’ve gotten it backward,” I replied. “Get into my good graces first. Then maybe you’d have a shot at seduction. At least, under unmarried circumstances.”

“Fair enough. What task do you have for me?”

“Something I’d rather do myself, but I’m only one fool. Simon thinks someone inside the Rooster killed Asan. I’m laying odds it was friend Peter, the butcher, but that’s just a hunch. Do you think you’ve recovered enough to follow my neighbors around and see if they are who they say they are?”

“Done,” she said. “Boring, but done.”

She threw on the cowl, then stepped toward the window.

“By the by,” I said idly. “How did Captain Stanislaus get hold of the Guild password?”

She froze, then sat down slowly beside me.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It was my fault.”

“You had better tell me.”

“When I was stabbed and left for dead, I was on my way to meet him. He was one of my lovers at the palace.”

“And one of your sources, of course.”

“Of course,” she said. “When I didn’t show up, he became worried. He came looking for me. He’s the one who found me nearly dead in an alley. He dressed my wounds, carried me to his rooms, and cared for me in secret.”

“By himself?”

“No. He has servants when he’s in town. Rank has its privileges. He also had a surgeon come in to patch me up a little better. Not a Guard surgeon, but someone from the Jewish quarter who could keep a secret.