Free Widow of Jerusalem: A Medieval Mystery by Alan Gordon Page B

town?”
    “Slender,” said the dwarf.
    “Really?” said Isabelle in horror, glancing at her own figure.
    “They haven’t had much to eat,” explained the dwarf gently. “It was a long siege. Now that things have settled down, they should be getting back to where they should be.”
    “Well, that’s good,” she said.
    “And they are getting plenty of exercise,” I added.
    “Are they?” she said, frowning slightly.
    “Promenading in the streets and entertaining the soldiers,” I said.
    “Yes, as good Christian ladies should when good Christian soldiers are present,” said Scarlet hurriedly.
    “Oh, I see,” said Isabelle. “Then it is charity on their parts.”
    The going rate was a loaf of bread, I had heard, but Scarlet’s expression stopped me from uttering that thought.
    Scarlet gossiped on as if he had never diverted a single bit of flour or crossed an enemy line during his sojourn, and she laughed and asked nonsensical questions about clothes and jewels.
    “And how does the Marquis treat you?” inquired Scarlet.
    “Oh, you know how it is,” she said, her cheeks turning crimson. “I am trying my very best to be the sort of wife he likes, but he would rather sit up all night with his friends, drinking and dicing. When he does come to my chambers, he’s usually drunk. But he can be quite kind and charming when he’s sober.”
    She sighed. “I had a young, beautiful husband who didn’t want me. Now, I have an old, ugly husband who wants me occasionally but seldom can do anything about it. It’s not at all the life I expected when I became queen. I thought there would be more parties, and state occasions, and cheering crowds.”
    “There will be, milady,” said Scarlet. “And in the meantime, there is me, back to be your own personal state occasion and cheering crowd.”
    “Oh, Scarlet, I’ve missed you so much,” she said, with another fit of dwarf-clasping. I began to worry that he might suffocate from her attentions. “Don’t ever leave me again. At least, not for such a long time.
    “I will do my best,” he promised. “But your lord sometimes needs me for these little errands of his.”
    “Can’t he send one of his men instead?” she protested.
    “Send a large man for such a little errand?” he responded. “No, lady, a little errand requires a little man. There are too few soldiers to waste around here. Having no fighting ability, I must make myself useful in other ways.”
    “Well, I don’t want you to do it anymore,” she said. “I’ll talk to Conrad at the dinner tomorrow.”
    “There’s a dinner tomorrow?” asked Scarlet.
    “Yes, and I want the two of you there to entertain,” she said. “Do a good job of it, sweet Scarlet, so that Conrad will see that you’re more valuable here amusing us than out on those silly missions of his. Now, sing to me.”
    We sang, and eventually she fell asleep. We tiptoed out.
    “I find myself in a professional quandary,” he said as we walked back to his place. “The entertainer in me wants to knock them dead tomorrow, while the practical side wants to be able to still be available for Conrad, which means I shouldn’t perform well. But that would displease Isabelle.”
    “You’ve forgotten something,” I said.
    “What’s that?”
    “You now have a second fool on the premises. You no longer have to be two fools at once. Make your queen happy, my friend, and I’ll do the dirty work for a while.”
    He smiled. “Fair enough. Shall we rehearse some two-man work?”
    “By all means.”
    And, having spent the morning riding and the afternoon getting acquainted, I juggled my way into the evening on the roof of a dwarf’s cottage, with all the world spread out before me.

Six
    "Tyre is a beautiful city.”
    BENJAMIN OF TUDELA, CIRCA 1167
    I awoke midmorning and did my stretches on the roof, using the vantage to get the shape of Tyre in my head before I ventured forth. Scarlet had already left; a note on his pallet said that