[Fools' Guild 08] - The Parisian Prodigal Read Online Free Page A

men here in town who could produce the like. Isn’t that right, Fool?”
    “I know three,” I said. “But I’ve been here only a few months.”
    “And the bona fides are besides the point,” continued the count. “He claims to be my full brother, not some bastard of my father’s. That’s impossible.”
    “Actually, Dominus,” said Peire Roger hesitantly, “it isn’t.”
    “There is space in that dungeon for one more person,” said the count. “Especially if we tamp you in with something.”
    “There was a rumor at the time your mother left Toulouse,” said the viguier, “that she was with child.”
    “Ridiculous,” said the count. “I would have known.”
    “You were still a young boy at the time.”
    “I remember who I was when my mother abandoned us,” said the count.
    “You were shielded from much,” continued the viguier. “And much that was known about your mother was— suppressed.”
    “Do you know for certain that she bore one last son after leaving for Paris?” asked the count.
    “For certain? I do not,” said the viguier.
    “Then it’s settled,” said the count.
    “But I do not know for certain that she did not,” said the viguier.
    “And therein lies your problem,” said Bernard. “It isn’t settled, and burying the problem in the deepest dungeon won’t settle it. I’m speaking as your advisor, your cousin, your friend, and for all I know as your half brother—thanks for mentioning that, by the way.”
    “I didn’t mean you,” said the count. “What exactly is the problem?”
    “Your overreaction, if I may describe it as such,” said Bernard.
    “I didn’t take his head off on the spot,” said the count. “I consider that remarkable restraint under the circumstances.”
    “It showed fear,” said Bernard.
    “Fear—“ The count laughed, “—of that pathetic little cloak-twirler?”
    “Yet you treated him as if Satan had forced his way up from the depths of the earth to claim you,” said Bernard.
    “If Satan had walked into my tower, I would have invited him to dinner,” said the count. “We could have traded stories over who had the worse upbringing. Fool, you are being far too quiet. It worries me.”
    “I find myself agreeing with your cousin, Dominus,” I said.
    “That’s a first,” said Bernard. “Maybe I should change my opinion.”
    “It worries me, too,” I confessed.
    “Your reasons for this unusual convergence of opinions, Fool?” asked the count.
    “Well, either Baudoin is an impostor, or he isn’t,” I said. “Either way, I wonder why he is showing up now, what he really wants, and most important, whom he knows in town. You can’t find out any of that if he’s dancing on Hell’s rooftop.”
    “We could have him followed every minute of the day, Dominus,” said the viguier. “And in the interim, we could dispatch a messenger to our ambassador in Paris and learn if there is any truth behind these bona fides.”
    “I wonder how many capable forgers there are in Paris,” sighed the count.
    “I know of seven,” I said. “They are thinking of starting their own guild.”
    “I need to think about this,” said the count. “I’m going to my chamber. Fool, I could use some music by my bedside.”
    “Certainly, Dominus,” I said, rising and bowing to the other two men.
    If they had resented my presence before, I was certain that they truly despised me now. Served them right for not learning how to play a lute properly.
    I followed the count up a flight of steps to his rooms above the Grande Chambre. A servant materialized, bowing low.
    “No one is to disturb us,” said the count.
    “Including your wife?” asked the servant.
    “Especially my wife,” said the count. “Where is she, anyway?”
    “Riding with the ladies,” said the servant.
    “Then don’t tell her what I just said. I’ll be down in a while.”
    “Yes, Dominus,” said the servant, backing out of the room and closing the doors behind him.
    The