The Passion of Dolssa (29 page)

“Fair enough for most folk,” I said through smiling teeth, “but since our rooms are
all full anyway
, this noble
senhor
would do far better if he were to present himself to Senhor Guilhem.”

His gray eyes watched us both. We’d failed to fool him; that was plain. My backside would be purple from Plazensa’s pinching. I eased off her foot.

“Perhaps, then, I will simply take some wine.”

My hand shook as I poured it. “With our compliments,
bon senhor
.”

Plazi shot me a venomous look. I was pouring him our best vintage, for free, and there was no doubt this man could pay full price for it.

He sat at the bar and sipped his wine. I offered him
fogasa
and olives and soft goat cheese to go with it, then slipped down the corridor. I didn’t have to call to know Plazensa would follow.

“How dare you?” she fumed, while Sazia snored, unawares, on our bed.

“Trust me,
s
rre
,” I whispered. “He’s from Tolosa, and he’s looking for Dolssa.”

Her face changed, but she would not give up a golden fare easily. “Just because someone is from Tolosa doesn’t mean—”

“We saw him on the roads,” I said, “not long after we found her. He stopped and stared at us.” My heart raced. “I assumed he wanted a roll in the hay. Now I’m sure he was hunting her.”

“But you said it was a friar looking for her,” Plazi whispered. “How also this knight?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. But I’m sure he is.”

Plazensa looked toward the corridor. “Go down to the waterfront and ask for Litgier. He sleeps on his boat. Tell him to wait out of sight until I come out. I will escort this knight to Senhor Guilhem’s house, but I want him to follow me, unseen and unheard.”

Anxious dread settled in my belly. I’d never known Plazi to fear any man.

We returned to the tavern. Plazensa effortlessly fell into conversation with the stranger, but I could barely hear them for the buzzing in my brain. I passed through the tavern as though nothing in the world were wrong, then hurried down through the darkness toward the water.

Finding Litgier, whoever he might be, was quickly sorted. He turned out to be the large fisherman I’d seen come for Plazi. He accepted the
instructions without a word. We returned to the tavern, but by the time I’d reached the door, he’d vanished into the waiting dark. I passed by the silent figure of the knight’s horse, tethered to a post, laden with bags as though it had taken a long journey, and went inside.

Plazensa still chatted winsomely with our noble guest. Plastolf de Condomio had left her alone with him. She wasted no time, when she saw me, and pulled a shawl over her arms.

“Let me show you the way to Senhor Guilhem’s,
bon senhor
,” she said prettily. “In the dark it could be hard for you to find.”

He made no objection but followed her outside. I soon heard the horse’s hooves clopping slowly up the hill toward town.

She came back before long, and offered her large companion a drink, but he declined, so she bid him
bon sẹr
at the door, then came inside and sat down.

“Did he say anything?” I asked. “Did you find out anything more about him?”

She shook her head. “His name is Hugo de Miramont, and he is from Tolosa.”

I nodded. “I knew from his voice.”

“He asked if we ever see friars here in Bajas,” Plazensa said, and we looked at each other. “Or many visitors from the lands of the count of Tolosa.”

I buried my face in my hands. “He’s looking for Dolssa,” I moaned. “I knew it.”

“He’ll find her, too,” said Plazensa. “Yesterday made certain of that.”

BOTILLE

e did not tell Dolssa about Senhor Hugo de Miramont when she woke the next morning.

The day was overcast and heavy. We waited in the silent gloom for Dolssa’s downfall. Plazensa turned away all petitioners at the door of the tavern.

Hour after hour crawled by, yet the rain never came, and neither did the knight. As the afternoon began to tip toward evening, I wondered if I could have been mistaken. Perhaps he did not seek Dolssa. Perhaps he wasn’t even the man I’d seen on the road.

Except I knew he was.

Waiting became unbearable. Finally we agreed Plazensa should venture up to Senhor Guilhem’s. Casually, unobtrusively, she would ask servants about Senhor Hugo’s movements. Sazia and I picked pebbles and dirt out of a sack of dried beans and waited for information.

Plazi returned with her hair tousled by the rising wind, but there was a smile on her face.

“He’s gone,” she said. “He left town this morning. Only passing through.”

I sagged with relief, but glum Sazia would not surrender so easily. “What if he’s gone to send word that he’s found Dolssa’s hiding place?”

“Tchah,” scolded Plazensa. “What on earth should make him think he had?
Oc
, if he’d seen her, I’d say your idea had some sense, but you go too far,
s
rre
. He’s gone.”

It was easy to be persuaded. We turned our attention to our daily work, which was a relief.

“There’s nothing for it, then,
s
rres
,” cried Plazensa after the last lunchtime dish had been washed and stacked, “but for us to dress ourselves for Na Pieret’s feast. Come on. We’ll close the tavern and make a night of it.”

Sazia and I stared. Close the tavern? Never since it had opened had Plazi suggested such a scheme. Another of Dolssa’s miracles. We threw the latch, then ran to find more interesting clothes than our daily dresses. I poked my head into Dolssa’s room to ask her if she’d join us.

I found her lying on her side, still in her nightdress at this late hour, on her mat on the floor, her head propped up on her elbow. Once again, she’d been talking to someone I couldn’t see. She wore a scarlet blush on her cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes.

“
Bonjọrn
, Botille.” She smiled but made no move to rise.

“
Bonjọrn
,” I told her. “Na Pieret di Fabri holds a feast tonight to celebrate her nephews’ arrival. It will be a great to-do, with food and music and dancing.”

She smiled as I spoke, and I realized it was not I, but her beloved who held her gaze. She remembered I was there, though, and glanced back at me. “That sounds very pleasant.”

It was like stumbling upon two lovers kissing. Only here, the second lover was the Lord Jhesus.

Plazensa appeared at my side and peered over my shoulder at Dolssa. “You should come with us tonight,” she said. “It would do you good to have a bit of rest and amusement.”

Dolssa’s eyes grew wide. “Oh,” she said, “I can rest better here.” She smiled knowingly at the figure that lay beside her. “I think I’ll be most comfortable at home. But
grácia
.”

Plazi plucked me away by the cloth at my back. “As you prefer.” I shut the door.

“What’s come over her?” I whispered to Plazi.

“She’s in love, silly,” Plazensa said. “Can’t you, of all people, recognize the signs?”

I halted in the doorway to my room. “If that’s love,” I began, “it will never tempt me.”

My sister gave my nose a friendly pinch. “Nonsense,” she said. “You’re just jealous.” Plazensa called up into the loft, “You’ll have to run the tavern yourself tonight, Jobau. We’re going to a party.”

Our lord and master sent us a grunt by way of a reply.

The sun had gone all the way down behind Bajas, and clusters of lights twinkled up the hill at Na Pieret’s home. Dark massy clouds still shifted overhead, and stirred the lagoon, but we were determined not to let them mar the celebration. Already, strains of music wafted down toward the waterfront. Plazensa insisted we take a detour to rap loudly, three times, upon the door to Sapdalina’s father’s little
maisoṇ
. She didn’t wait for an answer, but hurried onward.

“What was that for?” Sazia muttered to me.

I shrugged. “We’ll soon find out.”

Na Pieret’s party spilled out her front door and onto the street. In the courtyard, Focho de Capa sawed at his
fidel
, with others joining on flute, dulcimer, and drum. Jacme and Andrio were already bowling spectators aside, energetically swinging each other about by the elbows while women laughed and clapped. Torches blazed from every window, sending shadows leaping like featureless nighttime revelers.

Everyone in Bajas was invited, and most had never seen so much to eat in their lives. Na Pieret’s great room overflowed with food. Her hired cooks had roasted a gigantic boar, and piled rafts high with baked salmon and boiled clams. There were squashes and turnips and potatoes and (oh heaven!) melting sweet onions; cheeses, and bits of tongue bobbing in sauces; breads and sweetmeats; goose liver and chicken liver and truffles and other kinds of savories; and tarts of every fruit ripening just then. And wine! Wine flowing from dozens of pitchers. Peasants’ eyes popped to see such bounty. It was a hard grind, eking out a living from a tiny wedge of chalky soil, even in the most fertile of years. This must have cost Na Pieret a fortune. To feed all Bajas? It was unheard of. Bless her generosity. All this to celebrate her nephews. I hoped they were worth such a fuss.

The fragrance of roasting food, sweet wine, and women’s lavender-scented hair put me into a party mood. After all our worries, it was high time for some merriment. A cup of wine sent me tripping merrily along that path. Think of the blessings and miracles we’d seen! Knights and friars, friars and knights. We were in God’s hands, so who could harm or threaten us?

Senhor Guilhem, who’d been talking with Lop the
bayle
, cornered Plazensa and led her into the dance. A second cup of wine made me think of dancing too. I went in search of Na Pieret, to bid her
bon sẹr
, and thence to find a partner. Dominus Bernard, I thought, would do nicely. No one would ever think I was one of his lovers.

To my surprise, I came across Astruga clutching one of the de Prato children in each hand. With their free hands, they stuffed their faces with pork. She squawked at them to wipe their chins. Joan de Prato lurked behind, utterly cowed by imperious Astruga.

“
Bon sẹr
, Astruga,” I said, and kissed her cheeks. Someone had refilled my empty cup, and suddenly Astruga was my long-lost and dearest friend.