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Murderous Matrimony (Renaissance Faire Mystery) Page 11
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Sometimes this was to facilitate a pretty visitor who needed to be escorted out of the Village some secret way after her time there. Other times, it was for keeping watch to protect themselves from other guilds whose members might be about to invade. It happened.
The forest was five acres of trees, rocks, and dirt. On a sunny day, the trees blocked out most of the light. On a cloudy day like this one, it was gloomy and damp. The Merry Men lived in treehouses built in the largest oaks and pines.
These weren’t treehouses that could’ve been built by kids either. These were elaborate, multi-storied, several room edifices, created by architects when the Village was first built. Each treehouse had water and electricity, but that was as far as amenities went.
Several Merry Men and Women stayed in each treehouse and frequently shared them with visitors who stayed the night, even though it was against Village rules.
They had some bad habits—like stealing toaster ovens from other residents. If you didn’t have a toaster oven in the Village, you were lost since housing was usually small, an there were few kitchens. It was the best way to cook a meal.
Robin and his men had been known to trade toaster ovens for other items they needed, even though many times the ovens didn’t belong to them.
I started down the path to the heart of the forest, stepping around a few obvious traps that would have caught me in a snare or a net.
Capturing visitors, and the occasional resident, was another bad habit of Robin and his followers. Visitors loved it, so it continued. Most residents didn’t venture in here.
I knew what to look for because I’d lived here for a while—years ago. The Merry Men hadn’t changed their habits. What they did was popular—why bother? It made them predictable.
Before I’d reached the encampment, one of the Merry Men jumped out in front of me. He was new. I recognized his face under the little green hat, but I didn’t know his name.
“Welcome to Sherwood Forest, my lady. You must know the password to get any further, and you must pay the toll.”
“I want to see Robin. The password is—take me there now. You’ll pay the toll if you don’t.”
He laughed. It was that over the top, stage laugh that Robin encourages. His head was thrown back, and the laugh went on for several minutes. “You don’t scare me.” He laughed again, but not as long.
By that time, I’d slipped an arrow out of my quiver. It was aimed at him.
“My lady.” His voice was a little squeaky, and there was real fear in his eyes.
When you’re new to the Village, you don’t know what to expect next.
“Take me to Robin now.”
“I knew I should’ve been a Templar Knight,” he muttered as he walked in front of me down the path to the camp.
“You’re not tough enough,” I told him. “Maybe you should consider being a squire.”
The twelve treehouses overlooked the central park area where a huge fire burned most of the time. The Merry Men frequently cooked their daily meals on the fire and hung out here. Whittling, and practicing their archery, were their most popular amusements as they waited for new groups of visitors.
Several men and women dressed in forest green dropped down and took out their bows when they saw me. I put my bow away and they calmed down. The new man ran for the woods when he had the chance.
“What’s going on?” My brother, Tony, yelled down from the treehouse where he lived. Tony did PR work, mostly online, for Robin Hood. “Jessie!”
He dropped down gracefully with one hand on a rope.
“Nice move!” I gave him a hug.
“Thanks! What brings you here? You hate Sherwood Forest.”
“I don’t hate it. It’s more a been-there, done-that kind of thing. Where’s Robin?”
“He’s still sleeping. He had a late night.”
The rest of the Merry Men had joined us by then. They stood around listening and watching, their swords sheathed and peace-tied, bows on their backs.
“Fine. I’ll talk to you then.” I explained about the unidentified archer I was seeking. “Madman Bob saw him, or her, the night Dave was killed at the museum. Any ideas?”
They kind of muttered between themselves, but no one was forthcoming with information.
“You think one of us killed Madman Dave?” Alex joined us. He was Robin’s second in command. “Why us?”
I knew Alex really well. He’d been my boyfriend when I’d spent time in Sherwood Forest. Now he was married to a woman named Sally, who was an English professor at Auburn. I knew what that life was like, and how hard it was to live apart, so I had some sympathy for him.
Alex was also a handsome, charming rogue who could be Robin Hood if Toby Gates, who played the master of the forest, ever left.
“It’s obvious, isn’t it? You have most of the archers in the Village. Sherwood Forest is right across the cobblestones from the museum. I need to know if one of you was there so I can cross you off the suspect list.”
“Just go ahead and cross us off now, my lady.” Robin Hood himself jumped down from his treehouse and did an elaborate bow. “Welcome to Sherwood, Lady Jessie. How may I serve you?”
“I think you already heard my story.” I returned a deep bow since I was dressed like a man. “I need some names and confessions. Did any of your Merry Men come to the museum after it was closed?”
A tall, large woman stepped forward. She was dressed in forest green, and had long, strawberry blond hair. She was older for a Merry Man, or Woman, and very pretty. She pinned her green eyes on me. “I was there. I didn’t kill anyone.”
Robin and Alex looked at her. She was taller than both of them, and had broader shoulders.
“Why were you at the museum, Sofie?” Robin asked her.
“I was there on a personal matter.” Her voice was hard and tough, but the faint blush in her cheeks told its own story.
“You were there to meet Shakespeare, weren’t you?” I guessed.
“What if I was? We’re consenting adults. He said we couldn’t meet at his place anymore because of that witch of a ghost he used to be married to. We sure couldn’t meet here. The museum was safe, and he had a way in.”
Lady Marion, Robin’s girlfriend, supported Sofie’s position. “I knew she was going. I don’t blame her. Trying to find any private time out here, living with all of you, is impossible. I was thinking about borrowing the museum myself.”
Reminder to self: Have locks changed at the museum and be sure backdoor is locked. Otherwise you risk becoming the Village make-out spot.
“I’m sorry one of mine caused trouble,” Robin apologized.
“No problem. I was hoping Sofie, or one of your people, had seen something that night that could help find Dave’s killer.”
“I might know something,” Sofie muttered. “I was there in the basement with Shakespeare. There were some voices outside. I heard two men arguing. They kept their voices low, so I didn’t recognize them.”
“That’s what I was looking for. Anything else that might be helpful?”
“Shakespeare said he could tell one of the men was Master Archer Simmons. You should talk to him.”
Chapter Twelve
“Thanks,” I said to Sofie. “I’ll talk to him again.”
Why was Shakespeare keeping things from me? Was he afraid he might implicate Master Simmons, as I was? He’d been there as long as the master archer. He probably knew more about that part in his life that he wanted to keep hidden.
I thanked Alex and Robin for their hospitality. Robin did his famous laugh with his hands on his hips, and his head thrown back. I knew it wasn’t for my benefit—there had to be visitors behind me.
I turned around. They were obviously ardent fans of Sherwood. Each of them wore green outfits and carried a bow.
“I’ll walk you out, shall I?” Marion offered, slipping her arm in mine.
“We have guests in the forest, Lady Marion,” Robin reminded her.
“You can handle them,” s
he called back. “I need to talk to Jessie about the wedding.”
Marion was more excited than I was about the wedding. She also had more questions than I had answers.
“Jessie, you need a wedding planner. How else are we all going to know what’s going on? What if the Queen’s gown is going to clash with your wedding gown? What if Chase looks better than the king?”
We both laughed at that. Of course Chase was going to look better than King Harold.
“You know what I mean,” she said when we’d stopped laughing. “Everyone is buzzing about it. There are even pictures of your dress on the Internet.”
That was news to me. I’d been too busy doing other things to spend much time online. “Who could’ve done that?”
“I’m sorry. You didn’t know? I think it was Portia. You know how she likes to rattle your cage.”
“I don’t care.” I did, but it was too late. “Beth has already changed my gown once for the queen.”
“But would she tell you if there was any other problem? You need somebody in your court.”
I thought she was offering for a moment, but that wasn’t her agenda. “I certainly hope your wedding isn’t overshadowed by this murder. That would be terrible, wouldn’t it?”
Apparently, she wanted to rattle my cage too. “I don’t think I have to worry about that. The murder of a madman at the Village isn’t going to get that much press. Wanda’s ghost might.”
“Speaking of the ghost, have you thought that she might have killed Dave? After all, she seems vicious enough. It was a cruel thing to do, wasn’t it? Why else would someone want to kill poor Dave?”
“I’m not sure yet why anyone would want to kill Dave, but I don’t think Wanda did it.” The rumors were getting more elaborate. “Although I’d rather it be her than someone else we all know.”
“I suppose,” she sighed. “Well, I’m off to do some shopping. I’m embarking on a new career, you know. I’m going to be a world famous actress!”
“Congratulations,” I muttered as she squeezed my arm and then headed toward Stylish Frocks. I wondered if Robin knew her plans.
The museum was busier when I stopped by again. It might have been because the rain was driving everyone indoors. The cobblestones and the soggy Village Green were mostly empty. I could see visitors hanging out in the Honey and Herb Shoppe too. Everyone was hoping the rain would pass before the whole day was lost.
I stood off to the side and listened as Oliver explained about weaving as he worked the loom. He told the crowd about how tapestries were first used to hang on walls to help keep drafty huts and castles warmer in the winter.
“These rich hangings were full of color and life,” he continued as his sure hands worked the loom to create his own tapestry. “We have to imagine that they brought a much needed relief to the drab world of the Dark Ages.”
Oliver’s tapestry, which he gladly showed visitors, was of a country scene with a colorful cottage. There was great detail of swans on the lake and birds in the air. Clouds hung in the blue sky. It was an idyllic world.
Manny saw me listening, and made a quick march over to where I was. “Is this the way the director of the museum dresses? I think not. No wonder you’re hiding over here in the corner. What are you doing?”
“I’m looking for a killer so you don’t have to go to jail.”
“You don’t have to worry. With my father, the king behind me, there is no problem.”
“Does he know you’re in the Village now?”
“Yes, unfortunately. There will no doubt be hell to pay.” He grinned. “I love that expression, don’t you?”
I laughed. “Have you seen him yet?”
He lifted his chin. “No. But it is only a matter of time.”
“No matter what, whether your father is a king or not, we still need to find out who killed Dave.”
“I don’t understand why.”
“Because it’s important. We can’t go around letting people kill other people here. That would be worse than getting a reputation as a haunted Renaissance Faire.”
He assimilated the explanation. “I understand. What can I do to help?”
“I’m not sure right now. Just keep the museum running, and I’ll let you know.”
Chase came in the door and looked around until he saw me. He inclined his head to a few ladies as he passed, headed in my direction.
“I’ve been looking for you. Brother Carl said he saw you enter Sherwood Forest. What was that about?”
I started to explain, but it seemed we were short on time.
“Tell me as we go. We have to go see the twins. I know you don’t want to, but it’s necessary. We want the rings to be right.”
I left Manny in charge again, and walked back out with him.
We couldn’t use ponchos, or real rain gear, in the Village. Plastic and rubber didn’t exist in our time period. It meant getting wet in the cold rain with little chance of drying off during the day. Not a pleasant feeling.
There were pretty cloth parasols. They were better than nothing. I always kept one handy. Chase never used one, of course. It didn’t go well with that tough guy image.
“I talked to King Harold,” Chase told me as we went down the steps to the cobblestones. “My parents and Morgan are going to stay at the castle until the wedding.”
“At the castle?” I’d been hoping they were going to stay at a hotel. “Until the wedding?” Almost two weeks?
“Yes. And the king and queen have invited all of us to a special dinner held in our honor.”
“When?” I felt like I was asking about a disaster.
“Tonight. Think you can make it?”
“Of course.” I smiled at him. “I can’t wait.”
The twins were waiting at Our Lady’s Gemstones. I felt not only churlish, but surly as well. Rene and Renee were trying so hard to be accommodating. They had us sit in beautiful black brocade chairs and brought out tiny glasses of wine with cheese and sweet almond cookies. They presented the rings in grand fashion on blood-red satin pillows.
The cynical part of me believed this was due to the huge amount of money Chase had spent with them for my engagement ring and our wedding bands. But I had never heard anything bad about the twins. It was only my personal dislike of them that kept me from enjoying their company.
I reached for the ring on the pillow. Rene lightly slapped my hand. “No one but the jeweler who made the ring should slip it on your finger before your wedding day, Lady Jessie.”
“It’s terribly bad luck,” Renee confirmed. She put the broad, white gold band on Chase’s finger. “How does that feel, Sir Bailiff?”
Chase flexed his fingers, and gazed at the handsome piece. “It feels fine. Thank you.”
Rene slid the wedding band on my finger. His icy hands made me shiver. “There now. How is that, Lady Jessie?”
“Fine. It’s wonderful.” I tried to work up some enthusiasm.
The ring was beautiful. The band was set with tiny diamonds that were in the shape of the constellation Gemini. One of the first things Chase and I had done together was visiting Galileo in the Village. He’d shown us the constellation that was prominent on that day. Our rings reflected that memory.
“There’s something written inside.” I took the ring off and started to look at the inscription.
“I wish you’d wait,” Chase said. “I’ll wait to look at your inscription too. Okay?”
My inscription? Was I supposed to have something inscribed on the ring?
With less than two weeks to go until the wedding, my heart was filled with terror. I didn’t know what to say inside Chase’s ring. Was there even enough time to do that?
“A wise choice.” Rene gave me a knowing look. “This way you two can share your messages together for the first time as man and wife.”
Renee put her hands together and smiled. “What a wonderful plan.”
Chase put his ring back on the satin pillow. Thank God he hadn’t looked inside
. He would’ve been so disappointed.
But what was I going to say? Maybe I could sneak a peek inside my ring to get some idea about what he’d had inscribed.
I put my ring on the pillow, trying to see what was written in it. It was no use. It was too small, and I didn’t have time before Rene put them away. I’d have to come back and look at it later.
“Thank you so much for your craftsmanship, and everything you’ve done for us.” Chase clasped hands with Rene first and then his sister.
He gave me a nod, and I thanked the twins too. Maybe not as elegantly, but I thanked them anyway.
Lucky for me, Chase’s radio called out another problem that required his attention— there were two naked women in the Good Luck Fountain—it happened at least once every month. He excused himself to the twins, gave me a kiss, and was gone.
Rene and Renee stood staring at me with knowing eyes.
“You have to tell me what he had inscribed.”
Renee shook her head, her long white hair following the movement. “We cannot. We swore an oath to our customer, the Bailiff. We would dishonor him, and ourselves, if we did not uphold it.”
“Okay.” I felt a little desperate. “Was it more than one line? Was it a famous quote? Give me something to work with here. Is there still time for me to inscribe something on his ring?”
“There is plenty of time remaining,” Rene confirmed. “But we cannot divulge what he said.”
“Please,” I begged. “I don’t know what to say inside a ring. I never even thought about it.”
The twins did their intent staring session, as they had many times before. I felt sure they were communicating with their minds, though I had no proof of that.
Finally, Renee agreed. “The words on the ring are not a quote, nor are they words that ever belonged to anyone else. The words belong to the Bailiff.”
“Okay.” Thanks for nothing! So I have to come up with some clever saying that you can inscribe on the ring. How long?”
“Three days.” Rene nodded.
“Three days. Thanks. I’ll get back with you.”
Anything else? My poor tired brain was screaming. Find Dave’s killer. Get ready for the wedding. Have dinner with Chase’s parents who hated me. Run the museum. Wait for a sorcerer to come who would deal with Wanda’s ghost.