"May I remind you that I do not come from these parts, and we may looked alike because we are from the same area?" stated Jester.
"Of course. It was also they were here to find a boy of about your age?"
"There are many boys my age. In fact, Gunther, you are my age. How do you know that they are not over here for you?"
"I am... Hang on, if Dragon, very unlikely as it is, was telling the truth, and if they were here for you...then it would mean you were also practicing witchcraft!" he decided.
"Nope. Not me, I am a simple Jester."
"Then why do you never reveal the truth? Your name, it is a secret. Admittedly it must be embarrassing for you not to reveal it to anyone. But also, your old home, that is also unknown to anyone. Not even the king. Why are you learning and not asking for pay? Small pay is good enough for the cook, metal smith and gardener. Why not you?"
"I have always had an interest in languages, music and suchlike. Why am I such a mystery? I like to learn, it is not a crime."
There was a long pause. "I shall find a way to prove you are...different. Make sure of that." and he stormed off, angry he had not won the argument.
...
That night they went to the clearing again. Jester could fly, and land, but not very well. He could stay low, and not loose his nerve, but high, like he would need to when flying, was a problem. He got scared he would fall, and stopped concentrating, and fall.
He went higher and higher, slowly growing more and more confident, until he didn't return one time. They assumed that he was trying to fly further. They had a conversation about how to make Jane's fighting technique better, until it got to near midnight, and he still hadn't returned.
They heard a twig snap behind them, and Jester ran through the trees. As if someone was following him, he turned to look behind him, fear in his eyes.
"I have revealed our secret. A villager saw me flying...shot me." he unfurled one wing, and deep under the skin was an arrow. His already un-kept wings were matted with blood. He had also a deep cut in his lower calf that had made it hard for him to walk or fly back. Jane and Sir Theodore stood up, and helped him over to the clearing.
He tried to stand on his own, barely accepting their help. Rave flew over to him, and landed in front of him, cocking his head to one side. He nodded, and flew off in the direction of the merchants dock. Jester clenched his teeth, blood glinting on his wing and streaming down his leg.
Again he didn't complain once on the way home. No-one was at the drawbridge, but it was reeled up. That ruined their plan to just walk in. Jester grabbed Jane under the arms, and jumped. His wing was killing him, but he had to get Jane and Sir Theodore into the castle. He dropped her off in the gardens, and went down for Sir Theodore. No matter his protests, he flew them both up, and landed safely.
He was exhausted, but at least they were safe. But he however, was not. It was hard for him, he had lost a lot of blood and a fever was on it's way in. He fell to his knees, hating his weakness. They helped him to his room, but he didn't come out the next day.
"Jester?" said Jane, knocking on his door. He grunted. He felt as if he was going to be sick, even though he had nothing to throw up, his limbs ached and he could barely move. Every sound pounded in his head, and he was cold and sweaty.
Jane came in to find him shaking under his thin blanket. The woolly one had fallen onto the floor, and the blood had stained his bed. She had never been in his room, and it was smaller than hers, much smaller. Half the size, if that. In it was a badly made bed, straw mattress, a sheet over the top, no pillow and obviously cold.
There was a small fireplace with a small supply of wood, leftovers from the Prince and Princess's kindling. On the other side of the room was a large washing tub. It had never occurred to her why she never saw his clothes in the laundry, but this was why.
On the mantle piece was a necklace with an onyx music note, a comb, and a small portrait of two young girls, maybe six, with black hair and light brown eyes, a woman with the same hair and eyes, but taller, a man with blonde hair and blue eyes and another child, a boy, who looked like Jester when he had first come to the castle, seven years ago.
Jester stirred, and sat upright. He looked a mess. Blood covered his arms where they had touched the wings overnight, a stray feather had got tangled in his hair, and his hands were clutching the letter, also now stained with blood. He groaned, and she walked over to him. The arrow had snapped last night, and one end was on the floor, the other still in his wing.
"Jane...what a surprise. Why are you in my room?"
"It is nearly lunch. I came to check on you. The castle heard of us missing last night and mysteriously coming back at midnight. Also Gunther has spread it that you are practicing witchcraft." she sighed. He stretched his wings out, and winced. The arrow twitched, and he shook his wing. It fell out, taking a small chunk of bloodied skin and feather, and clattered on the floor.
He folded his wings in, and stood up. He threw the pieces of arrow into the fireplace, and then his sheets into the tub. He waved his hand above it for a second, and it filled with sparkling, magic-based water. He pulled the woolly blanket off the floor and over the bed. Jane couldn't help but notice he was so organised.
Under the bed was a toy, a raven with real feathers. It had a label on the bottom that read: nunquam redono.
She had never heard that before, but it sounded serious. Jester was busily tidying his room. It looked so rehearsed, as if he had done it every day. Maybe he had, but he always looked to untidy, clever, yes, but he left his juggling balls in different place every day, sometimes not even together as a three. Why did he hide it? Or was he just good in small places?
"Jester? Are you sure you should be doing that? You are ill after all."
"Quite sure." he replied. He stopped, and turned to face her. Jane stood up from looking under the bed, and held out the raven. "What does nunquam redono mean?" she asked.
"Why do you want to know?"
"I like languages. Sir Theodore said it was hard to learn Latin and only the Romans spoke it. You came from Rome?"
"Well...listen, Jane this is a big secret, and you probably won't think much of me afterwards. I am a gypsy, and people like you who work hard for pay usually look down on us. It is a shame that I am getting worse and worse choice for you, Jane. I come from many places, all over Europe, and some of them I have done some terrible things... things I never wish to do again."
"You have travelled all over Europe? You are not a disgrace, I would love to hear your stories of travel, though if you wish to keep some things secret, then do so. No matter what everyone else may think." she smiled, and so did he. He looked away, and Jane could have sworn that then, at that point, he had a flicker of fear in his eyes. She was confused. Why was he scared of telling her? Or was it the memories that haunted him from the journeys?
She recalled what Sir Theodore had said: Cicero had wanted him for his heart, to gain wings or powers. But what had Jester done?
"Jester? Jester what happened then, in your travels? What are they to fear?"
"Cicero, he was always trying to get me. Still is, but he can't come to England, much less the sea. The sirens forbade it, you see."
"Sirens?"
"Merfolk, gentle but strong enough to punish a wrongdoer."
"Come on, I do not believe in folk tales. Be serious."
"I am. He was punished for trying to capture them by non-sea-based magic. Of course, you thought that dragons were folk tales too? Yes, Jane, be open to new ideas. My life is, always has been, and always will be, based around magic and unlikely stories."
She nodded. "Jester, why do you always...hide things? Gunther was right, really. No-one knows why you are so secretive."
"I have learnt that trust can deceived. I know the truth...I know what can happen if you trust someone, and they use it against you."
"Can you trust nobody?"
"No-one. I have learnt to trust you, Jane. Do not forget it."
Jane remembered what they had been talking about before she had strayed off the point. "Jester, what did you do? If you do not wish to remember, that is fine, but what did you do?"
There was a very, very, very, very, long wait before he answered. And he didn't look pleased. "I had to kill. And I regret it. More than anything else in the world. I had to kill them, because they were after me. We were in small places, so we had to be organised, and then when we were in large places, our clues were discreet and few. Like my room, and the juggling balls. A force of habit. I saw you wondering. I felt your aura of question. So many questions, Jane. Sometimes, that is not a good thing." he looked at her.
"So that is why you say that you are not worthy? As an excuse not to answer me? To stay away, is it?" she asked sourly.
"No. I did not mean it like that. I was just speaking from-"
"Experience? Yes, because you are so much better than us all because of our small amount of experience? And you just say you trust me to lure me in, make me care?"
"No. You and I both know that I did not mean it like that."
She stepped towards the door, "Do we?" she stepped out.
