Author's note: Some things are worth revealing, others are better kept in the dark.
4. White King, Black King
Jehan had heard many strange stories in Paris, some worth listening and others not. The death of Frollo was in the first category, but he had restrained himself from asking. Paris had no sweet memories of his predecessor so there was no point in stretching the matter. The other one was the Gypsy King. Some claimed to know who he was; others spoke of him like a mythical figure. Pretty much like the Fisher King of the Northern Islands. The minister paid little attention. What really caught his attention was how this so-called king came to be. According to his sources, he just rounded up the gypsies one day and told them how to avoid the guards, how to capture the attention of the public and be undetected. Someone like that doesn't appear out of nowhere. That man had to have a past, an origin, a name… Sigh.
"Sir" one of the guards walked in. "Citizens are speaking of a large group of wolves prowling around the streets"
"Have you checked for paw prints or any proof?" asked Jehan sitting before his chess game and set the pieces. (Yes, this game existed back then! I checked!)
"Yes, sir. Nothing so far"
"Keep your eyes peeled, man. I don't want surprises"
"Aye, sir" the soldier left the room. The minister glanced at the elaborated carvings that now occupied the set (Lewis Chess). How was he going to unlock the mysteries of such brilliant mind? A sound of barks answered his question. Jehan looked through his window and saw a large dog dropping something at the door before leaving. The minister opened the gates and saw a beautiful rose with a note tied to it. The man looked around; Jehan saw no one so he went back to his studio and opened the small scroll where it was written something in Hebrew: אריאל. Why would someone leave something that he can't read? Strange. Well, at least the rose smelled like Heaven. It was at that instant that the paper slightly caught fire and began to burn. Jehan was fast to pull it out and discover some message appearing on the scroll.
"The air got tired of whispering. His eyes were too slim. A rose befall in its lap and he followed her into the city. Too late did he realize that the stone walls were nothing against the flesh…" ¡darn! The rest was gone. What kind of a strange riddle was that? Hmm. There was something nostalgic and yet foreboding of this message. Had the author left him a clue? Jehan was not sure but as he stared into the sleeping city, he knew certain things had to be done. The minister grabbed his hat and after getting his horse, he headed into the streets and into the left bank of the Seine. Not far from the walls of Paris, surrounded by a meadow stood the Abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The monks were asleep but Jehan knew a way around into a small cell where Sister Gudule lived. Unlike the other religious men, her ideas had always been stretched a little further and some believed her a witch. Frollo ignored her existence and Jehan kept her alive for his own purposes. The minister walked into the room but the woman did not look up. She had her cards on the table and was staring at them. A prediction?
"I told you to not disturb me" she whispered. The first card to appear was 'The Fool'.
"I need your advice" the man stood still and the nun turned. "I need you to tell me what this is" Jehan gave her the scroll and Gudule took a good look. Her face went from surprised to pleased.
"I knew this would happen. It was about time. I'm just surprised that the husk is still standing"
"Elaborate that" grumbled Jehan.
"Men of these parts only see their god, their virgins and saints. They are afraid. I'm not. Where I come from, there are more terrifying and powerful beings, which hate and envy humans" Gudule went on with her card reading. The second card was 'The Devil'. The minister had always wondered about her strange accent and that night was especially thick. "You're looking for the Gypsy King… again. Many have tried, all failed"
"I heard he just popped one day in town, coming out of nowhere. He quickly became the leader of the Roma, thanks to his cunning and deceives" the minister went silent for a few seconds. "My brother wanted him on a pike"
"(Snort) Yer brother was a fool" Gudule shook her head. Jehan growled but kept calm. "He searched for a man and that was his biggest mistake"
"What do you mean?"
"I can't say no more. I see nothing else"
"Tell me, woman. Or you'll…" Jehan hit the table hard.
"Burn me in the pyre? Good luck with that. At least, I will stop leaving in this stupid stone coffin. And that is if you're successful"
"Very well, have it your way, then" the judge gave up and walked towards the door. "You mentioned a husk"
"Find Sycorax and you'll find it" Gudule turned the last card: The Magician.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
After taking Quasimodo back to the cathedral, Esmeralda had been adamant about Clopin's possible shock and decided to bring him to their house, despite Phoebus constant arguments and her friend's excuses. When they arrived, Pierre was asleep, watched by the always loyal Djali who had curled on one side of the bed. Relieved that her son was resting, Esmeralda went to Clopin's side and prepared a bed for him.
"I don't want to impose, chérie" the King watched as she worked. He didn't want to admit it but he was awfully tired. Normally, gypsies avoided closed environments but if Esmeralda had got used to it, then it was all right (at least for one night).
"I just want to make sure that you don't get killed over night. Besides, I asked around and they all had told me, Clo" she motioned him to sit with her. "If you spend days without sleeping, how are you going to lead?"
"I'm getting older, sleeps get lighter. Évidemment!"
"Clo, look at me" Esmeralda requested and after a few seconds, their eyes met. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong"
"Don't lie to me" the woman insisted. Clopin softly bit his lip and rubbed his ribs.
"Je suis vieux. Trop vieux. Voilà la vérité, Essie" whispered the puppeteer. "I'm getting too old for you, mon ange" Clopin felt a small shatter in his abdomen. "Soon, I won't fit as king or as your guardian"
"Don't say that" their foreheads touched. "I could never survive without you"
"You got your Captain, Quasi and Pierre. I had my fun and I got you and that's all I need"
"Clo, please"
"…" he gently held close her against his chest. "I promise I won't leave until I'm sure you are ready to fly, Essie" Clopin smiled. The woman felt his heartbeat and gentle breathing, she had always loved listening to them when she needed comfort, but something seemed missing. As if a part of his friend was no longer there. The Roma produced then a painful hiss and doubled over Esmeralda. He had just remembered why his sleeping wasn't good.
"Clo, are you all right?" the woman looked up. Her friend was shaking like mad and his forehead was covered with fever. "Hush now" she helped him into the bed and put a wet cloth on his head. "We'll talk in the morning"
"Just make sure that that ce mari stupide de la vôtre does not come in by dawn, Essie. I had enough gadjos for one night"
"Deal" she kissed his forehead and tucked him in. "Good night"
"Good night" whispered Clopin closing his eyes. Once at the corridor, Esmeralda glanced at her husband.
"How is he?" asked Phoebus.
"Exhausted. A little under the weather, but I hope it's nothing" they went to their bedroom. She sat on the bed and sighed sadly.
"Esme, what's wrong? Is it more than just a cold?" he walked slowly towards her. "You can tell me. I won't go mad, I promise"
"He says he can't go on. Marie has told me that he hasn't sleep in days and now this. Clopin, my wonderful big brother, might not…" she was at the end of her rope.
"Hey! Hey, look at me" Phoebus sat next to her and they shared a glance. "Whatever it is, we will face it together. I'm sure that he only needs a bit of time. When the king has visited and things are back to normal, we can all go have some fun. We can go on a trip, whatever you want" he held her gently.
"You promise?"
"I give you my word. He's my, well, brother-in law, dash, father-in-law, so yeah. We're family" Phoebus put a hand under his wife's chin.
"Thanks" they stood together for a while before going to bed.
Small threats make the tapestry.
See you soon!