[139] Arriving guests were greeted with a flourish of horns. I sauntered up to each, announcing them with playful epithets. “His bawdiness, the duke of Loire, and his lovely niece, er… wife, the lady Kate.” It was all meant to trump the husband and praise his wife, no matter how plain she might be. Everyone played along.
Only when the room filled did Baldwin and his lady, Heloise, make their entrance. One glance made it obvious to me that Baldwin had not married for looks. The couple waded through the room, Baldwin hugging and joking with the men, Heloise curtsying and receiving lavish praise. They took seats at the head of the largest table.
When their guests were all seated, Baldwin stood and raised a goblet. “Welcome, everyone. Tonight we have much to cheer. The court has been enriched by a new flock. And the arrival of a fool from Borée. Hugh will make us laugh, or else.”
“I have heard my husband’s new pet is quite the rage,” Lady Heloise announced. “Perhaps he will set the tone with a few jests.”
I took a deep breath, then I hopped around to the head table. “I’ll do my best, my lady.”
I scampered toward her but then threw myself into the lap of a fat old man seated down the row. I grinned, stroking his beard. “I would be honored to perform for you, Your Grace. I…”
“Here, fool,” Lady Heloise called. “I am over here.”
“Gads.” I shot out of the man’s lap. “Of course, my lady. I must’ve been blinded by your beauty. So much so, I could not see.”
There was a trickle of laughter.
“Surely, fool,” Lady Heloise called, “you did not have the crowd shouting your name the other day with such mild flattery. Perhaps it is I who am blinded. Is that Hugh I see there or Palimpost?”
The room chuckled at the hostess’s wit. Even I bowed, warming to the challenge.
[140] At the end of the table, a potbellied priest was sucking down a mug of ale. I hopped onto the table in front of him, plates and mugs clattering. “There’s this one, then… A man went to a priest to confess his many sins. He said he had much to share.”
The priest looked up. “To me?”
“We’ll see, Father, how you feel about it at the end. First, the man confessed he had stolen from a friend, but added that this friend had stolen something back of equal value. ‘One thing cancels out another,’ the priest replied. ‘You are absolved.’ ”
“It is true.” The priest nodded.
“Next,” I went on, “the fellow said he had beaten the man with a stick, but had received equal blows in return. ‘Again, these both cancel each other out,’ the priest replied. ‘You owe God nothing.’
“Now this penitent sensed he could get away with anything. He said there was something else to confess, one more sin, but he was too ashamed. When the priest encouraged him, he said. ‘Once, Father, I had your sister.’
“ ‘My sister!’ the priest bellowed. The man was sure he was about to feel a holy wrath. ‘And I have had your mother on several occasions,’ the priest said. ‘Again, they cancel each other out. So we are both absolved.’ ”
The guests clapped and laughed. The embarrassed priest looked around the room and clapped as well.
“More, fool,” Lady Heloise shouted, “in the same temper.” She turned to Baldwin. “Where have you been hiding this treasure?”
The room bubbled with good cheer. Food was served-swan and goose and pig. Goblets and mugs were filled by servants scurrying about.
I leaped up to a server carrying a roast on a tray. I took a whiff of the meat. “Superb.” I sighed. “Who knows the difference between medium and rare?”
Diners at the tables looked around and shrugged.
[141] I went up to a blushing lady. “Six inches is medium, my lady. But eight is rare.”
Again, they roared. I had it going. I spotted Baldwin taking congratulations, seeming delighted with the performance.
To much fanfare, a train of servers marched in from the kitchen carrying prepared plates. Baldwin stood. “Lamb, guests, from our new flock.”
Baldwin stuck a knife into a slice of lamb and chewed off a piece in front of his server. “Delicious, server, wouldn’t you say?”
“It is, my lord.” The server bowed stiffly.
To my horror, I realized that the dejected servant was the same farmer from whom Baldwin had chiseled the flock just two days before. Suddenly my blood stirred in rage.
“Please, jester, do continue,” Baldwin said with a mouthful of meat.
“I will, my lord.” I bowed.
I spotted Norcross at the end of Baldwin ’s table, stabbing his meat among a row of other knights. “Is that my lord Norcross I see stuffing his face over there?”
Norcross looked up, then his eyes narrowed on me.
“Tell me,” I asked the crowd, “who is a greater hero to our lord than the brave Norcross? Who among us could be more forgiven for conceit? In fact, I have heard this good knight is so conceited, that during climax he calls out his own name.”
Norcross put his knife down. He stared at me, juice running through his beard. Laughter ensued, but as the knight’s face tightened, it trickled away.
“And there are those who ask,” I continued, “what do a holiday decoration and my lord Norcross have in common?”
This time there were no amused mutterings. A tense silence hung in the air.
“You will find,” I said, “that their balls are just for decoration.”
[142] With that, the knight shot up, drawing his sword. He lunged around the crowded table toward me.
I pretended to flee. “Help me, help me, my lord. I have no sword, yet I fear I have struck too deep.”
I did a flip and ran around the table toward Baldwin. Norcross pursued, weighed down and slightly drunk.
I easily avoided him, circling the table to the merriment of the crowd, who almost seemed to be making bets as to whether the knight would catch me and cut my throat. Finally, I threw myself in the protection of Baldwin ’s lap. “He will kill me, my lord.”
“He will not,” Baldwin replied. “Relax, Norcross. Our new fool has managed to get under your skin. A good laugh, not a killing, should soothe the wound.”
“He insults me, my lord. I stand for that from no man.”
“This is no man.” Baldwin cackled. “He is but a fool. And he provides us much entertainment.”
“I have served you well.” The red-faced knight seethed. “I demand to fight the fool.”
“You will not.” Lady Heloise rose. “The fool has acted on my bidding. If anything untimely happens to him, I will know the author. You may feel safe, Hugh.”
Norcross exhaled a deep, frustrated breath, the object of all eyes in the room. Slowly he let his massive sword slip back into its sheath.
“Next time, fool,” he said, “the laugh will be mine.” He went back to his seat, never once removing his stare from me.
“You have picked an adversary who is not one to anger.” Baldwin chuckled as he ate his lamb. He tossed some bits of fat off his plate to the floor. “Here. Help yourself.”
I looked across the room at Norcross. I knew I had made an enemy for life.
But so had he.