Read Online [Fools' Guild 08] - The Parisian Prodigal by Alan Gordon - Free Book Online Page B

time?”
    “All the time,” he assured her.
    She glanced at Hue, who was still standing with his jaw somewhere around his navel, then turned back to Baudoin. She reached toward his face and trailed her long sharp nails along his cheek. He winced slightly.
    “I must put your gallantry to trial,” she said. “I find that even the most courteous of men will reveal his coarser, truer nature as the night goes on.” She leaned forward and murmured into his ear, “And that’s what I like the most.”
    “Then we must have the entire night,” he responded. “So that a proper assay may be made.”
    A quick muttered negotiation took place. Money changed hands; then she hooked one nail under the clasp of cloak just below his throat and led him away.
    “All night,” sighed Sancho. “Same job, different place. They must be brothers.”
    He plopped himself onto a chair and made himself comfortable.
    “But what about you, senhor?” the Abbess asked Hue. “Will you not partake?”
    “I—I, no,” he stammered. “I must wait upon my master. This is all too rich for my blood.”
    “Then sit by me, and we’ll pass the night with stories, friend Hue,” said Sancho, patting the cushions next to him. “I know this particular duty all too well.”
    The Abbess was looking at me.
    “And you, Senhor Pierre?” she asked, walking slowly toward where I was sitting.
    “You know my name,” I said.
    “I have seen you perform,” she said. “You made me laugh.” She lifted one exquisite foot and rested it on my knee. “I like a man who can make me laugh.” The foot began to inch forward.
    “Alas, I am a married man,” I said, watching its progress like it wasn’t part of anything.
    “We serve many such,” she said, her foot more than halfway up my thigh.
    I reach down and stopped it. I thought that was what I was doing.
    I was holding her foot.
    “I am a happily married man,” I said, trying to get my breathing under control.
    Still with her foot on my thigh, she bent at the waist until her face was just in front of mine.
    “I can make you a happier married man,” she murmured.
    “You are kind to ask,” I said. “But no.”
    There were giggles from the doorway, and I looked past her to see several other residents of the house watching. The Abbess straightened up and turned to them.
    “Behold, my sisters,” she cried. “That rarest of mythical beasts, the happily married man.”
    I nodded amiably at them, and they giggled some more. The Abbess turned back to me.
    “You are a challenge, Senhor Fool,” she said. “I like a challenge.”
    “I must decline,” I said. “Respectfully. Regretfully.”
    “Then leave here in shame,” she replied. “Oh, and I will need my foot back.”
    I relinquished it reluctantly, and got to my feet.
    “I guess I’ll meet you back here in the morning,” I said to Sancho and Hue.
    “If I’m asleep, wake me,” said Sancho. “If I’m asleep next to a beautiful woman, do not wake me. Ever.”
    “But what if you are only dreaming of a beautiful woman?”
    “Then Brother Hue had better not sit too close,” said Sancho.
    “Sounds like good advice to me,” said Hue.
    “I will leave you to your duties, my friends,” I said. “I must to my wife.”
    “Give her one from me,” called Sancho as I walked outside.
    I nodded at Sancho’s fellow watchmen as I passed by what they thought was protective cover.
    “Going to be there all night,” I informed them.
    “Oh, great,” muttered one.
    I showed my pass at the gate and was allowed back into the bourg. From there, it was a brief walk home.
    I unlocked the door and went in. Claudia was standing there, pointing a crossbow in my direction.
    “If I told you it was me, would you still be pointing it?” I asked her.
    “Can’t be too careful,” she said, lowering it. “How was your day, Senhor Tutor?”
    “Long,” I said. “Yours?”
    “Helga and I worked the flower market,” she said. “We did all right. Oh, and one