Read Online Jester Leaps In: A Medieval Mystery by Alan Gordon - Free Book Online Page A

marched by, their body armor almost cylindrical in shape, enormous single-edged axes carried casually over their shoulders. Their standard was a dragon, spewing flames on a blue field. A few of them were chattering as we passed.
    “They were speaking English,” exclaimed Viola in astonishment.
    “The Varangian Guard,” I explained. “A lot of them are English. They first came after the Norman Conquest. More have come since then, especially after the Crusades stranded a few. Very devoted to the emperor, at least until he’s been overthrown. Then they’re very devoted to the next emperor.”
    Another squad passed us, consisting of extremely tall, fair-haired men, similarly attired.
    “Those are also Varangians?” she asked.
    “Yes.”
    “But they weren’t speaking English. I don’t recognize that language.”
    “Danish,” I said. “Those who aren’t English are usually from the north. They send them down here for experience.”
    “You speak Danish?” she asked.
    “Fluently.”
    “Strange,” she said. “Why would you need that language? I thought you spent most of your career around the Mediterranean.”
    “I don’t need it. It was thrust upon me by accident of birth.”
    “You’re Danish?”
    “Originally.”
    “But how did you end up . . .?”
    “Second anniversary, Duchess. Here’s a likely spot. Let’s get to work.”
    The market was in full haggle as farmers in from the outlying regions vended their produce, huntsmen sold freshly killed venison from their bloodied carts, and woodsmen stood before stacks of, well, wood. The smaller children ran screaming around the forum, dashing fearlessly around and occasionally under the hooves of the passing horses, while the older ones watched their parents’ goods. A clump of them saw me and scampered over expectantly. I arranged them in a largish circle with as much pomp as I could muster, then shook my head in mock dissatisfaction and rearranged them several more times. Then, I pulled out five balls and sent them flying, occasionally sending a ball at one of the children and catching the return toss.
    Out of the corner of my eye I saw Claudius drift over to anut seller and engage in some spirited negotiation, which conveniently provided her with a good view of my performance and the crowd that gathered.
    I continued for an hour, working knives and torches into the juggling, pulling out my tabor and flute and playing both simultaneously, singing a number of silly songs, and finishing with a lengthy encomium to their glorious city, thanking the crowd for their most gracious and heartfelt welcome. Then I picked up the scattered coins thrown in my direction. All bronze—this was not the wealthiest of forums, but when one is new in town, one should start at the bottom.
    “Thank you, good people,” I shouted. “Should you desire further entertainment, leave word at the Rooster for Feste, the Fool.”
    I picked up my gear and walked out of the market. I ventured a few hundred feet down the Mese, then turned onto a side street where I saw a likely tavern. A few minutes later, Claudius sat by me and silently held out a cloth bag filled with nuts. I took some.
    “You weren’t followed,” she said. “I didn’t see anyone in the crowd who looked unduly interested.”
    “I wouldn’t have expected it the first day,” I said.
    “What shall we do after lunch?”
    “Let’s go look at Demetrios’s room. It’s time to revert to our other function.”
    “So, in this case function follows forum.”
    I winced. “I don’t think you’re quite ready to go solo, Apprentice, but keep trying.”
    We walked together down the Mese. Claudius glanced wistfully back at the Pillar of Arkadios.
    “Will we have a chance to go to the top?” she asked.
    “Sometime,” I said. “There’s much to do first.”
    “And the holy relics. They say they have most of the True Cross here.”
    “That’s what they think. There’s a big chunk of wood at the Church of the