Jester Leaps In: A Medieval Mystery by Alan Gordon Page B

town.”
    He scowled. “What would you with that rascal?”
    “He owes me money,” I said. “A considerable sum. He is truly what drew me back to this city.”
    “Join the club,” replied Simon. “He owes half of Constantinople. There’s been plenty looking for him, but he’s vanished.”
    “When?”
    “I couldn’t say exactly. Sometime before Christmas. He used to come in here a lot. I made the mistake of letting him drink on credit. I won’t make that mistake with you.”
    “I won’t give you cause, my dear sir. Tapsters are my closest friends in the world.”
    “No need for friendship, Fool. Just pay up front, and we’ll get along fine.”
    I lit a candle and led Claudius upstairs.
    The room was not even the third best room, if I was any judge of quality. The pallet was a pile of moldy straw with a ragged sheet thrown over it, and I had the distinct feeling that we would not be the only creatures sharing it this evening. Viola laid out our bags as far from it as she could, which in the space allotted us was maybe three feet away.
    “Could we go back to the woods?” she asked.
    I held a finger to my lips and listened at the doorway. There was no actual door, just another sheet tacked onto the lintel for privacy. I took a length of twine and fastened it across the entrance about a foot from the ground.
    “Keep your disguise on,” I whispered. “Do you want first watch or second?”
    “I’ll take first,” she said.
    I stretched out on the pallet. She came over and hauled my boots off, then sat down for me to return the favor. She pulled a blanket from her bedroll and huddled on the other side of the doorway.
    “You told Simon that story to give you an excuse to go looking for Tiberius,” she whispered as I blew out the candle. “I like that. I never thought I could fall in love with someone who could lie as proficiently as you do.”
    “Thank you, milady.”
    “How long will we have to keep watch in this lovely hostel?”
    “At least for the first few nights.”
    A little bit of moonlight came through the window, enough for me to discern her eyes gleaming from the corner, like some nocturnal rodent watching me for an opportunity.
    “You realize, of course, that if I am to remain in male garb, that we will have to forgo conjugal relations,” she remarked.
    “I thought you were tired of riding.”
    She gave a quick, quiet bark of laughter, fortunately still in Claudius’s voice. I closed my eyes.
    I am a light sleeper, partly by nature, partly by training. Something stirred my dreams enough for me to lurch to my feet, knife in hand, before I was entirely awake. My eyes, when they had finally adjusted to the dark, saw Claudius, sword drawn, sitting on top of a dark form.
    “What have we here, my good man?” I asked.
    “A rat, sir,” she replied. “A veritable vermin.”
    “Isn’t this my room?” protested the man. I pulled the sheet over the doorway and lit the candle. It was Asan, one of the fellows from the evening table. He was dressed in dark clothing, and had smeared his face with charcoal.
    “Didn’t your mother teach you to wash your face before bed?” I asked him.
    He muttered something that reflected upon my mother. I chose to ignore it, and knelt down by his head, my knife resting on his neck. He became still.
    “You’re a poor excuse for a burglar,” I said.
    “Can’t blame a fellow for trying,” he replied.
    “Oh, yes, I can. Now, my first inclination is to slit your throat and be done with it, but I’d hate to be thrown out of a place when I’ve already paid for two weeks in advance. I suppose I could turn you over to the authorities.”
    “But I have the feeling that you’d rather have no contact with the guard if you can help it,” said Asan hurriedly.
    “I wasn’t talking about them,” I said sharply. “Father Esaias might be interested in this little incident. The Rooster is off-limits, isn’t it?”
    “How did you know that?” he whispered.
    I