Anne listened distractedly but soon seemed to grow weary. In her husband’s absence, she was forced to rule on such tiresome matters, and this was as mundane as business got.

Anne’s gaze began to wander.

“This bickering is the stuff of comedy,” she said. “Jester, this is your domain. What say you? Come out and rule.”

I stepped out from the crowd behind her chair. She seemed to regard me unexpectedly, as if surprised at the new face in the suit. “You say it is my rule, my lady?” I bowed.

“Unless you are as dull as they are,” she replied. Mild laughter trickled through the room.

“I will not be,” I said, calling to mind all the times I saw my friends cheated, “but I must answer with my own riddle. What is the boldest thing in all the world?”

“It is your stage, fool. Tell us, what is the boldest thing?”

“A bailiff’s shirt, my lady. For it clasps a thief by the throat most every day.”

A hush spread over the court, replacing the amused buzz. All eyes looked to the bailiff for his response.

Anne fixed on me. “Norbert informed me he was taking a leave. But he didn’t inform me he was leaving his duties to such a rash wit. Come forward. I know you, do I not?”

I knelt in front of her and doffed my cap. “I am Hugh, good lady. We met once before. On the road to Treille.”

“Monsieur Rouge,” she exclaimed, her expression indicating she knew exactly to whom she spoke. “You seem a little better patched together than when I saw you last. And you have found a trade. When last seen you had donned your armor and ridden off on some quest.”

“My armor was only this.” I motioned toward my checkered [192] tunic. “And my sword, this staff. I hope I was not too greatly missed.”

“You are hard to miss, monsieur,” Anne said with a pinched smile, “since you do not go away.”

Many of the ladies began to giggle. I bowed ceremoniously at her demonstration of wit.

“Norbert said I would find you to be a fitting replacement. And there is another at court who defends you well. And look how you perform… Here, before our court, with your first step, and already soiled your boots. You take the miller’s side on this?”

“I side with justice, lady.” I could feel the heat rising in the room.

“Justice … What would a fool know of justice? This is a matter of what is law and right.”

I bowed respectfully. “You are the law here, my lady. And the judge of what is right. Was it not Augustine who said, ‘Remove justice, and what are kingdoms but gangs of criminals on a large scale.’ ”

“You know about kingdoms as well, I see… in your full and varied life.”

I motioned to the bailiff. “Actually, it is criminals I know. The rest was just a guess.”

Some laughter snaked around the court. Even Anne consented to smile. “A jester who quotes Augustine? What sort of fool are you?”

“A fool who does not know Latin, madame, is just a greater fool.” Again, a trickle of applause, some nods. And another smile from Anne.

“I was raised by goliards, Your Grace. I know a lot of useless things.” I sprang onto my hands, balanced myself in a handstand, then slowly released onto one arm. From upside down, I added, “And some useful enough, I hope.”

Anne gave a nod of approval. “Useful enough.” She applauded. “So much so, bailiff, that I am forced to side with [193] the fool here. If not by right, then surely by wit. Please forgive me. I am sure next time the scale will tilt to you.”

The bailiff shot me an angry glance, then backed off and bowed. “I accept, my lady.”

I pushed off and landed on my feet.

“So, boar-slayer.” Anne turned back to me. “Your friends are right. Norbert has taught you well. You are welcome here.”

“Thank you, madame. I won’t disappoint.”

I felt expanded. I had performed in front of my hardest audience so far and succeeded. For the first time in a long while, I felt out of harm’s way. I shot a wink at Emilie. My body tingled with pride as she smiled back.

“… At least until my husband returns,” Anne added sharply. “And I must warn you, his views of custom are quite different from my own. He is known to be much less charmed by a fool’s knowledge of Latin than I.”

Chapter 63

THE FOLLOWING DAYS, I worked freely at the court, entertaining Lady Anne, reciting tales and chansons from my goliard days, providing mock counsel when she called on me and needed a laugh.

My trouble at Treille grew distant in my mind. I even found myself craving my new role and the power that came with it. The power of the lady’s ear.

A few times, I was able to poke fun at a situation and gently twist her into a certain mind, always in favor of the aggrieved party. I felt she listened to me, sought my views, however couched in jest they were, amid the clutter of her advisers. I felt I was doing some good.

And Emilie seemed pleased. I caught her approving eye amid the other ladies-in-waiting, though I did not see her alone after that first day.

One day, at the end of court, Anne summoned me. “Do you ride, jester?”

“I do,” I answered.

“Then I will set a mount. I want your presence on an outing. Be ready at dawn.”

An outing … with the duchess …

This was an unusual honor, even Norbert said. All night I tossed on my straw mat. What would she want with me? Amid [195] his fits of phlegm and coughing, Norbert chided me, “Don’t get too cozy in my hat. I will shortly be back.”

The following dawn, I was ready at the stables, expecting a coterie of fancily dressed courtiers.

But it was clear from the start that this was not some idle jaunt in the country. Anne was dressed in a riding cloak, accompanied by two other knights I recognized, her political adviser, Bernard Devas, and the captain of her guard, a blond-haired knight named Gilles. With her also was the Moor who had propped me up with a harness when they found me in the woods, and who never seemed to leave her side. The party was guarded by a detachment of a dozen additional soldiers.

I had no idea where we were headed.

The gates opened and we rode out from Borée at first light. A sliver of orange sky peeked over the hills to the east. Immediately we took the road south.

I rode behind the formation of nobles, just ahead of the rear guard. Anne was a steady rider, trotting capably atop her white palfrey. Occasionally she exchanged a few terse words with her advisers, but mostly we rode in silence, at a quick pace. We did not rest until we hit a stream, an hour south.

I was a little nervous. We were heading straight for Treille- Baldwin ’s territory. I was not guarded or watched, but a flicker of concern tremored through me:

Why had Anne asked me on this journey? What if I was being returned to Treille?

At a fork in the road, the party cut southwest. We were on roads I had never been on before, occasionally passing hilltops clustered with tiny villages. By midday we had entered a vast forest, with trees so dense and tall they almost blocked out the sun. Gilles led the expedition. At one point he announced, “Our domain ends here, my lady. We are now in the duchy of Treille.”

Yet still we rode on. My blood quickened. I wasn’t sure what was going on. I had an urge to run. But where? I would not get fifty yards if they wanted me caught.

[196] Anne trotted up ahead. I had to trust this woman. I dared not show my fear. Yet every time I had placed my trust in a noble, I had ended up far the worse. Could they be betraying me now?

Finally, I kicked my steed and caught up to Anne. I rode alongside her for a while, nervous, until she could see the question on my face.

“You want to know why I asked you along?”

Yes, I nodded.

She did not answer me but trotted on.

To the sides, I could now make out farms and dwellings. There was a sign scratched onto a tree: St. Cécile.