The Jester

Chapter 78

THE SOLDIERS STOOD at stiff attention, swords and lances raised in salute. The duke galloped into their midst. He raised his arm to salute them, then gri

Almost as an afterthought, he turned to A

Stephen then jumped off his mount. His hair had grown long and wild since she had seen him last, like a Goth’s. His cheeks were hard edged and gaunt. Yet he still carried that narrow glint in his eyes. As was his duty, he came up to her. It had been almost two years.

“Welcome, my husband.” A

“To God’s grace,” Stephen said with a smile, “that you have shined like such a beacon as to guide me back.”

He kissed her on both cheeks, but the embrace was empty and without warmth. “I have missed you, A

“I have counted the days as well,” she replied coldly.

“Welcome, my lord.” Stephen’s advisers rushed forth.

“Bertrand, Marcel.” He held out his arms. “I trust the reason you have come all this way to greet me is not that we have misplaced our beautiful city.”

[234] “I assure you your beautiful city still stands.” The chatelain gri

“And the treasury even more filled than when you left,” promised the seneschal.

“All this later.” Stephen waved a hand. “We’ve been riding nonstop since we docked. My ass feels like it’s been kicked all the way from Toulon. Tend to my men. We are all as hungry as beggars. And I…” He mooned his eyes at A

“Come, husband,” A

All around them laughed. A

“It was no performance. I am glad for your return. For your son’s sake. And if it has brought you back a gentler man.”

“War rarely has that effect,” Stephen answered. He sat on a stool and removed his cloak. “Come here. Help with these boots. I will show you just what a petting pup I’ve become.”

His hair fell over his tunic, greasy and grayed. His face was sharp and filthy from the road. He smelled like a boar.

“You look like the wars have left you no worse for wear,” A

“And you, A

“Then awaken now.” She pulled herself away. It was her duty to tend to him. Remove his boots, rinse out the damp cloth around his neck. But there was no way in hell she would let him touch her. “I have not sat alone for two years to be mounted by a pig.”

“So hand me the bowl and I will wash, then.” Stephen gri

“I did not mean your stench,” she said.

[235] Stephen still smiled at her. He slowly removed his gloves.

A servant stepped in, carrying a bowl of fruit. He placed it on the bench and then, feeling the stiffness in the air, hurried out.

“I have seen your new interests,” A

He got up, slowly sauntered over to her. Her skin felt like an insect was crawling up her back. He walked around her as if he were inspecting a steed. She did not look at him.

Then A

“I may be your wife,” she said, turning away, “and for that, Stephen, I will tend to your health and welfare, for the sake of my son. I will stand for you, as is my duty, in our court. But know, husband, you will not touch me, ever again. Not in my weakest moment or in your most urgent need. Your hands shall never soil me again.”

Stephen gri

Before she even knew it was happening, he tightened his caressing grip on the nape of her neck. Pain flashed through her. Slowly, he increased the pressure, all the while fondly smiling at her.

The air shot out of her lungs. She tried to cry out, but to no avail. No one would come. Her cries would be misunderstood as pleasure. Her pulse echoed like a drum in her ears.

Stephen pushed her down to the ground. He followed, all the while pi

He tried to kiss her, but A

[236] Then he pressed himself against her rump. She felt him erect and hideous, the detestable hardness she had grown to loathe. “Come,” he whispered, “my bold, headstrong A

She tried to pull herself away, but his grip was too strong. He slithered up the length of her spine and yanked her underdress down, about to force himself in.

A

But just as quickly, he pulled off of her, grunting back a laugh, leaving her trembling. He pushed his wet mouth close to her face.

“Do not misunderstand me, wife,” he hissed in her ear. “I did not mean I desire your cunt… I meant the relic.”

Part Four . TREASURE

Chapter 79

THE HULKING MAN in the sheepskin overvest pounded in the fence post with well-timed strokes of his heavy mallet.

I crept from the woods, still in the torn remnants of my jester’s garb, carrying Emilie’s cloak. I had clung to the forest for a week now. Hungry, avoiding pursuit. I had nothing. Not a denier or a possession.

“You’ll never mend a fence by lazing away like a fat cow,” I said boldly.

The burly man put down his mallet and arched his thick, bushy eyebrows. He stepped forward to the challenge. “Look what’s crawled out of the woods… some scrawny squirrel in a fairy’s costume. You look like you wouldn’t know a day’s work if it jumped up and strummed your dick.”

“I could say the same for you, Odo, if it wasn’t always in your hand.”

The big smith eyed me closely. “Do I know you, malt-worm?”

“Aye,” I answered. “Unless, since I’ve seen you last, your brains have grown as soft as your gut.”

“Hugh…?” the smith exclaimed.

We embraced, Odo lifting me high off the ground. He shook his head in astonishment.

[240] “We heard you were dead, Hugh. Then in Treille, wearing the costume of a fool. Then word that you were in Borée. That you killed that prick Norcross. Which of these are true?”

“All true, Odo. Except for rumors of my demise.”

“Look at me, old friend. You killed the duke’s chatelain?”

I took a breath and smiled, like a little brother embarrassed by praise. “I did.”

“Ha, I knew you’d outfox them.” The smith laughed.

“I have much to tell, Odo. And much to regret, I feel.”

“We too, Hugh. Come, sit down. All I can offer you is this rickety fence. Not as fine as Baldwin ’s cushions…” We leaned against it. Odo shook his head. “Last we saw you, you ran into the woods like a devil, chasing the ghost of your wife.”

“She was no ghost, Odo. I knew that she lived, and she did.”

Odo’s eyes widened. “Sophie lives?”