Widow of Jerusalem: A Medieval Mystery Read Online Free PDF

too?” I asked. “Of course,” he said. “Find Blondel, and meet me back at the tavern by noon. Oh, and make some excuse to your lord. Yau’ll be away for some time.”
----
    M y patron at the time was a smallish king from a smallish kingdom tucked away in a section of the Alps that no one particularly wanted. He was good-natured enough for royalty, but when called he came crusading with all due seriousness. He was a vassal of France, and when Philip left Acre, he gravitated toward the Duke of Burgundy, the highest-ranking Frenchman remaining. His name was Denis, and he was nineteen years old.
    “You want to do what?” he exclaimed when I informed him of my plans.
    “Sire, I have encountered an old friend who is but lately come from Tyre,” I said. “I know that you are going forth to attack the Holy City. It will mean nothing but fighting the entire way, and I will be only a distraction to you.”
    “But the whole point of having a fool is for the distraction,” he pointed out.
    “True, milord, which is why, as a Christian and your loyal servant, I cannot let my profession be a hindrance to your divine task.”
    That straightened his shoulders a bit.
    “Very well, Fool,” he said. “God only knows I owe you this favour, You’ve saved my life twice since we started on this campaign.”
    Three times, I thought, but he would never know about the other one.
----
    W hat was that all about ? asked Claudia.
    Another story. Let me finish this one.
----
    I found Blondel in the Pisan quarter, strumming to an admiring throng of merchants who were trying to reestablish their pre-Crusade trading relationships before the Venetians and the Genoese did. I caught his eye, and he quickly came to a triumphant conclusion, accepting compliments with grace and coins with a flourish of his plumed hat. Then he came over to me.
    “Not comforting your king?” I said.
    “Enough, Theo, you’ve made your point,” he said. “Richard is making preparations to leave the city, and he has no need of me until later.”
    “What’s later?”
    “There’s a triumphal feast at the castellum tonight. They’ll be needing plenty of entertainment. Want to come?”
    “Want to and need to. What about Ambroise?”
    “Ambroise is holed up with a bottle and a whore somewhere. I haven’t seen him since last night.”
    “Well, it’s you I wanted to talk to.”
    “What’s up?”
    “Where does Richard keep his signet ring?”
    He frowned.
    “That’s the sort of question that invariably leads me to regret giving the answer,” he said. “Why do you want to know?”
    “Scarlet has a scheme,” I said. “Where’s the ring?”
    “What makes you think I would know?” he said.
    “Don’t be coy. This is Guild business we’re doing.”
    “In a locked bronze coffer by his bedside,” he said. “The key is on a ribbon around his neck and under his tunic. He’s kept it like that ever since his signet-bearer went overboard at Cyprus.”
    “I remember you mentioning that. I figured that the fellow was helped into the sea by someone.”
    “By me, actually. It turned out that the signet-bearer was working for the Cult of the Assassins. Anyhow, since that incident Richard hasn’t trusted anyone with the seal but himself.”
    “Is the lock pickable?”
    “Yes,” he said. “I’ve picked it once or twice for practice. The problem isn’t the lock. It’s the room.”
    “Why? Which room did he take?”
    He turned to face the castellum, which rose over the city like a mountain. It was set against the center of the north wall. It had a central tower that had to have been sixty feet tall and flanking towers only slightly shorter.
    “He sleeps in a room in the middle tower,” he said, pointing to a window that was halfway up. “He likes the view. He impresses himself with how far he has risen since he arrived in Acre.”
    “The stairs to the tower are guarded?”
    “Of course. And another guard is outside his room at all