We all know to whom this game belongs, do we not? Yes, I think we do.
Eve's Magical Adventure
Chapter 5: The Case of the Suspect Substitute, Act I
Every seat in the old court theater was filled to bursting; still more townspeople were camped on stools or fold-out chairs in the aisle ways, or stood crowded in the doorways and behind the other seats. Where they had formerly flocked to watch the drama of the trials, the people came now for a more lighthearted sort of diversion and every eye was fastened as with a sticky sap to the actors on the stage.
The director of the performance, the one and only Miss Primstone, peered with narrowed eyes and puckered lips from backstage, located just behind the area where the judge's bench had formerly stood. Because she had predicted many calamities for this performance, some of which had come true in a roundabout way, she was completely confounded at the immense audience. She pushed her eyeglasses further up her nose and tapped her always present pointer against her gloved hand. But, she told herself glumly, her substitute actors had little time to prepare and that surely spelt disaster for any production, pitiful or otherwise.
"You there!" she hissed to the young stagehand foolish enough to be nearby. "Pay attention and stop slouching this minute!"
"Y-yes ma'am," he gulped, as one of the much-dulled prop swords in his arms dropped with a muffled clatter.
"Dearie me! Be careful with those, young man! And don't trip over your feet this time when you move the scenery!"
With those words of admonition, he managed to slip away with several mumbled apologies. Miss Primstone tapped the prompter on the shoulder, causing that woman to start and jump and thereby lose her place in the play and her script.
"You must be prepared to give prompts at a moment's notice!" the teacher bade her.
"Of course, Miss Primstone."
"See that you do," the white-haired director replied and swept to the other parts of the backstage to terrorize the other volunteers who dreaded the sight of her. Mutterings of "Dearie, dearie me!" floated on wisps of stale air behind the stage, but the utterer thereof neglected to notice the effect of her substitute actors' performance had on their viewers. Had she herself been in the play she would have found some way to scold them as well.
When she approached stage right she encountered a blonde young woman who intently watched the performance from an unobtrusive place. With hardly more tact than she'd used beforehand, the teacher whispered, "What are you doing here, Miss Espella Cantabella?"
"Oh, hello Miss Primstone," the girl replied in a hushed tone, turning to greet her elder and drawing away slightly from the stage. "I came to give Eve my support. She and Sir Barnham are doing well for not being fully practiced, aren't they?"
"Tsk, tsk, Espella. Do you not know that unpreparedness leads to nothing but trouble?"
"Eve's always been good at remembering things with little effort. I know Sir Barnham has made a few mistakes but he makes such a presence in his armor that I don't think anyone notices."
"Don't worry, dear girl, I never thought this play would be a success. I am resigned to whatever ignominies fate has in store for me, but I fear the others will not be so inclined," the director mumbled with a flourish of her pointer. "But what about you? I'm sure you can find some way to make yourself useful here."
Espella's attention was drifting to the stage again, but she brought her gaze back with a small sigh. "I asked if I could help with anything, but they were all so busy and didn't have the time to spare to tell me what I could do."
"Idle hands lead to nothing but trouble, my dear."
"Yes, Miss Primstone. I will do my best to avoid that," she replied, striving most heartily to keep her near exasperation from showing in tone or expression.
Fortunately for her, the director had, seconds before, noticed a short, paunchy man peering from behind a bench, whereupon he crept behind a two-dimensional tree and then sneaking to another bit of scenery. As the schoolteacher hastened to intercept the half drunken interloper, Espella resumed her former watching place, grinning brightly and nodding to her best friend whenever she glanced her way. The blonde girl recognized a desperate, despairing look when she saw one, but under the circumstances she could do little to help.
Eve would have preferred being swallowed by the stage than spend another moment before the eyes of what seemed to be everyone from town. She recalled her lines sufficiently, but Barnham's antics were almost enough to make her forget everything and scream at him. She could only be glad that the costume which the original male lead was supposed to wear in the first act would not fit the knight and he instead wore his own armor, as it suited the setting of the play rather well.
In the first scene of the first act he was not in the correct place and she'd had to shout her lines across the stage at him before he realized his mistake. He missed a couple lines of his dialogue, causing her tongue to trip over hers. A short while later he trod on the foot of the visiting duke, who limped thereafter, an act which, had it occurred in real life, would have caused the blueblood to forget any prospects of peacemaking with them. Then, at the beginning of the second act, the knight flubbed several more lines and she scrambled her brains and bit her tongue in her hasty attempts to fill the gap he'd created. And those were only the worst of his transgressions; the minor ones included bumping into furniture, standing in the wrong place and poor timing with his lines.
Seated on a garden bench, she received the messenger who brought her news of the perfidious duke's treachery. Fortunately Barnham made his entrance from the scripted side of the stage and avoided another incident, but still her apprehension would not cease nibbling at her nerves. She said her lines with a tremor in her voice, not born of the fear her character was supposed to evince, but more a result of dreadfully wondering what the knight would next do.
In this particular scene he was further arrayed in a deep red cloak and a broad-brimmed hat which at the very least contained his ever-unruly hair. Fastened to the crown of the hat were five large, fluffy feathers of as many different colors; at least one of them was almost constantly falling forward, thereby obscuring his vision. Blowing upward at them did nothing to remove the problem and he was reduced to shoving the absurd things back every few seconds or so; Eve clenched her jaw with every unscripted movement. The fifty-sixth time he did so was the straw that broke the camel's back.
"Pray, whose idea was it to give me this hat?!" he exclaimed, breaking from his character mid-line. "A self-respecting knight does not wear a ridiculous, furbelowed thing such as this!"
With those words he propelled the offending article into the air above the audience; before its flight had quite finished every female within reaching distance pounced upon it, each attempting to claim it for herself. The multitude of feathers that Barnham had so scorned were none too graciously removed, to be kept as souvenirs, and the hat itself ended up in the hands of a young lady with a speech impediment.
Completely oblivious to the ruckus and the chuckles he elicited from the audience, the substitute actor strode off the stage for a moment and returned with his own headgear. Though the helmet had a single plume which was longer than those on the hat had been, at the very least it behaved itself by hanging down the back as it was supposed to.
"This is the helm for a knight!" he declared, clasping said item in one hand. Turning back to a completely mortified Eve and thumping a fist to his chest, he cried, "Milady, I am at your service. You have only to make the request of me! I, Za— erm…" He clamped his lips together as he realized he could not remember the name he was supposed to assume.
"Horace McGlindshire!" the prompter hissed. "You're Horace McGlindshire!"
Eve recalled how his brow had darkened when Miss Primstone first told him the name of the hero of her play. What was the matter with him, anyway? Did he not hear the prompter? Her stomach sank as if it contained so many pieces of scenery.
"Horace McGlindshire," she whispered from the side of her mouth.
Finally he caught on. "I, er… Horace McGlindshire, vow to do whatever you set to me!" Those were not his exact lines but he made up for his error with chivalrous flair.
Her cheeks positively scarlet, the substitute actress alternated between her own glares and the worried look her character was supposed to have. Her thoughts fired as quickly as lightning, allowing her to alter her own dialogue slightly as she bade him gather all the men still faithful to him and prepare for battle. With a flash of her green-blue eyes she silently commanded him to remember and limit himself to the part he played. She hoped for too much.
"It shall be done," he replied, the gravity of his tone surprising even the young woman who faced him. "You have my word: the duke will not enter these walls while I yet live!"
Sweeping up his helmet and slipping it over flaming hair, he reached toward the hilt of a sword which was not there. Instead, as scripted, he bowed low before her and the curtain fell, signaling the end of the second act. As soon as they were hidden from the audience, Eve rose with rapidity and fixed her disapproving glare on the knight.
"Zacharias, when will you just stay with your part and cease making a farce out of this play?!" she hissed, keeping her voice just below the level of the sounding applause. Lowering her voice further still, she muttered, "Ugh, how humiliating!"
He swallowed visibly, blinking at her through the holes in his visor. "My apologies, Milady… Miss Eve."
But already she was sweeping away to one of the dressing rooms to change her costume. Espella joined her and while the younger of the two aided her with the laces, buttons, layers of skirt and finally with fixing her hair, the former high inquisitor told her friend of all her frustrations.
"He is hopeless, Espella! Do you know how many times he had done something wrong this evening?! And we're not even finished with the play yet!"
"Mmm," the blonde girl muttered through a few hairpins as she expertly twisted up the thick, gorgeous locks.
Eve shook her head slightly and pressed a hand to her face, forgetting for the moment about applying her makeup. "I'm sorry to burden you with all this. I suppose the only thing I can be grateful about is that our usual work together does not entail this. I'd quit this play in an instant, except I promised I would go through with it. If only I hadn't agreed to it in the first place!"
Free to speak once more, Espella patted the last curl in place and came around her friend's side to view her. She nodded satisfactorily. "It must be trying for you, Eve. Uhm, though you know… I think the audience rather likes the performance…and Mr. Barnham."
"Especially when he throws his hat to the wind! 'Tis so embarrassing!"
The younger of the two was quiet, pressing her lips together and trying to keep the giggles from escaping her. The substitute actress saw the evidence of this suppressed laughter and immediately turned her turquoise eyes upward.
"Espella!" she groaned. "Not you too!"
"I'm sorry, Eve! I'm sorry!" She couldn't keep the mirth locked up any longer and thus it escaped between her words. "I just… It isn't you, Eve, really. You were splendid, truly you were. But I…oh, it was so funny seeing him throw away his hat like that!"
Assuaged somewhat by that reassurance, the dark-haired young woman breathed again. She glanced at her companion, who was holding her hand to her mouth and trying with only little success and keeping back the hiccupping laughs. Eve supposed that to anyone else, the situation would seem quite comical. She always liked to see her friend in good spirits and she was glad it wasn't by her own foolishness. Her lips curved up and the smile slowly widened.
They glanced at each other and the younger of the two quickly devolved into shameless giggles until Miss Primstone cleared her throat behind them. The teacher informed them stiffly that beginning of the final act was mere minutes away and to please make haste; then she left, muttering something about laughter leading to trouble. Espella, with the merriment still alive in her eyes, looked to her friend once more, but Eve had grown serious again with the prospect of returning to the stage looming before her like a whole legion of knights.
Perhaps Barnham had taken her words to heart, as his performance was improved somewhat and his mistakes negligible. The lead actress allowed a long breath to escape her as they neared the final scene, but she felt relief too soon. In his duel with four soldiers he was supposed to be gravely injured, but instead, he took the mock battle much too seriously. Though his sword was a mere prop, a sad imitation of his own sheathed blade which he'd been required to leave backstage, he gallantly routed the enemy and sent them fleeing from the footlights.
Eve watched, dismayed almost into shock, from her place at stage right; her hands froze as she held the voluminousness that was her skirts. She forgot for one lingering moment that she was supposed to make her entrance to be with her knight in his last breaths. A hand nudged her from behind and she stumbled the first few steps onto the stage; her mind was completely blank and she had no idea what she was going to say. Her "hero" was neither bleeding nor dying; rather, he stood tall with sword in hand and a most ridiculous, self-assured look upon his face.
He turned toward her as she forced her feet to move; the satisfied look on his face faded somewhat as he glimpsed her own expression. Removing his helmet and setting it upon the rock by which he had been scripted to fall, he went down on one knee. "Milady."
"You…you…" was all she could say. She was supposed to fall to her knees by his side and wipe the sweat and blood from his face.
"You and your people are safe, Milady. We have vanquished the enemy for you!" he declared, dipping his head and saluting her.
Eve felt like she was a completely different person watching herself as she uttered the words, "I thank you, brave knight. Because of you, my people will have peace."
Her own gaze was lowered and she did not first see that the warring duke approached them from stage left. His final act was to attempt to kill the knight as he lay defenseless and dying; Miss Primstone had pushed the actor onto the stage, despite Barnham's deviance from the plot. Eve, remembering fully her part in this final conflict, caught her breath and lowered her hand as she noticed the figure stealthily approaching the knight's back.
The redheaded substitute seemed to sense movement behind him and he whirled, but Eve had the advantage of first sight. With the rubber blade which had been secreted in the layers of her skirts, she lunged at the duke before he delivered his own blow. Gripping at the wound from which no real blood issued, he fell, gasping in rather exaggerated fashion and delivering his last line as though the angel of death rapidly closing his throat.
Eve no longer saw any reason for trying to conform to a script which had been torn with so many holes, as if the knight had attacked it with his blade. She looked down at the shamming actor. "Unfortunate man. His lust for power was his undoing."
Looking to her hand, she let the prop weapon fall to the floor. When she glimpsed Espella gesturing expectantly and beaming brightly at her, she was tempted to roll her eyes. Then, as she faced Barnham again she saw a similar look of admiration that he'd worn more than a week before when she'd performed a ridiculous pose for their visiting friends. She suddenly found herself wanting to laugh at his surprise and consternation.
"You have saved my life, Milady. I will forever be indebted to you," he said, once again inclining his head.
Why did he bow so much? He certainly wasn't in the habit of doing that unless he was being especially respectful or playful. She did not ponder long on that, however. She held her hand out to him and fixed upon him the first affable gaze she'd assumed that evening. He touched her fingers gently, hesitantly and his own eyes quizzing her, but instead of giving answer she turned her head again to face the audience.
"Though the fight is over, the people need me now more than ever. Many will need homes, food or relief after the battle. All I ask is that you help me."
"Aye!" he exclaimed. "Milady's wish is my command!"
The two substitutes stilled. From backstage they could just make out Miss Primstone's "Dearie me, lower the curtain! Lower it, I say!"
The people began applauding and the great scarlet curtain descended to the stage. Then it rose again as all the players gathered together and bowed. Barnham still held Eve's hand and when the clapping continued without indication of cessation, he led her forward. He dropped back and even applauded her himself; she wished he wouldn't, as she felt so shy and alone standing there. The other actors eventually faded off the stage but still the audience clapped, cheered, whistled, shouted and rose to their feet. The children stood on their seats and waved.
Eve was almost completely overtaken by feelings of overwhelming gratitude even through her confusion. The play which had felt like it was turning into such a disaster was so favored by everyone that they would not let her or Barnham leave the boards. The audience threw roses, peonies, violets, carnations and all manner of other flowers and leafy greenery which accompanied them, but no one bothered to toss back the discarded hat or the feathers which it had held.
Once, when she was very small, her father and mother had taken her to a ballet in London; she had viewed every graceful movement with eyes full of such wonderment and that night she formed the secret, rather shy desire to become a beautiful ballerina like those who floated like fairies across the stage. At the end of the performance, rose petals fell upon the stage like rain and the audience threw so many bouquets that the dancers could hardly be seen; though she had no flowers, a little girl sitting between her parents clapped until her hands were numb.
And now, on a smaller, decidedly less modern stage, Eve received similar acclamation which she felt she did not deserve. After all, another actress had been rehearsing for that lead part but had fallen victim to a nasty throat virus just a few days before; surely the original actress should receive these flowers for the time she'd given to practice. Eve continued smiling even as regret twisted at her heart.
The knight bent and selected one of the loveliest bunches of flowers, which he then presented to her followed by another bow in her direction. The audience let up a jubilant shout at that action and, if anything, their applause gained momentum. Eve resolved to see that the afflicted actress would receive some of those blooms and with that decision came a gentle smile to her lips. The crook of one arm bursting with flowers, she bowed until she thought she would break at the waist.
Only when she waved a final farewell and left the stage did she realize that Barnham had preceded her and was currently being scolded by the white-haired director. She surprised herself by feeling pity for him in his plight, but before she had quite made up her mind to intervene, Espella was instantly upon her, taking her arm and drawing her toward the dressing room.
"Oh, you were wonderful, Eve!" the girl gushed, her face as brightly beaming as a reflection of the sun. She clasped her hands in ecstasy as she alternated her gaze between the beauteous blooms and her equally lovely, blushing friend.
The former inquisitor laid aside her flowers and began to fumble with the laces of her garment. Espella quit goggling the roses and quickly jumped in to aid her. The hands of the substitute actress trembled slightly but she was not entirely successful in erasing the happiness from her face.
"Everyone did seem to like it, didn't they?" she mused quietly. "You don't suppose they were just being kind?"
"Oh no, of course not! You were a splendid heroine! In fact, I think the way the play turned out was so much better than what Miss Primstone wrote. She made it so tragic and I do like to see a happy ending. And Mr. Barnham was a fun, endearing sort of knight." The girl chattered as she let down the dark hair and plaited it into a loose braid. "I know everyone loved it and that's why they showered you with such applause and flowers. You were absolutely magnificent, Eve!"
"I still have a good mind to bawl him out personally for what he did," the other young woman muttered as she set her costume neatly aside. "I also want to make sure Miss Lorna receives some of the flowers. Perhaps it will cheer her up a bit, being ill as she is. Will you help me, Espella?"
They picked up the blooms which Eve had brought into the dressing room and were prepared to gather more from the stage, which the workers would soon come to sweep up. The blonde girl picked up a bunch of violets, took a raptured sniff and smiled blithely.
"Do you think we could take some back to the bakery too?"
"I see no reason to let them go to waste. Come, let's hurry."
Espella waved and grinned to everyone, including some young girls from town who picked through the assortment of flowers. They spent a minute or so bending and gathering a couple of armfuls of those fragrant bouquets, though Eve gave one of these to a lass whose companions always seemed to preclude her from selecting the ones she most wanted.
Meanwhile, she of the blonde braids continued chattering: "I hope Dad and Aunt Patty enjoyed the show too! You know, Aunt Patty was surprised when I told her about you and Mr. Barnham being substitutes. She wondered why Miss Primstone hadn't thought to arrange for regular stand-ins."
"I wish she had. Though that is something I shall have to insist for future productions in this theater. I do not wish to repeat this night!"
"I still don't know quite why Sir Colfete had to quit at the last moment. It was unfortunate that Lorna fell ill just days before the performance, but when he didn't show up as well, I was afraid the play would be canceled. That would have been such a pity, after everyone had worked so hard!"
Eve shrugged as she pursed her lips. "…Perhaps he had stage fright."
Her guess actually had some accuracy. The man who had been cast to play the lead was a quiet, rather timid sort of fellow, and when he had heard that the former high inquisitor had been prevailed upon to replace the stricken lead actress, he had turned white and was shaken to his shoes. He'd given a hasty, flimsy sort of excuse and hadn't been seen in any remote proximity to the theater since.
"I think we have enough flowers now," Espella declared. "I'm sure I can't hold another one! Let's go find Aunt Patty and show her our spoils, shall we?"
They headed backstage again, but both their steps and Espella's gushings were cut short by some agitated, masculine voices coming from the rear. As they neared the source of the sound they saw a knot of actors clustered around a trio of knights; one of the latter group was redheaded. The flowers still filling her arms, Eve elbowed the others aside until she was directly before her fellow substitute performer.
"What is the meaning of this?!" she queried rather imperiously.
Somehow, everyone seemed to have suddenly lost the facility of speech. The former high inquisitor's cool gaze bored in turn into all three knights though they also had difficulty in giving her eye contact. She felt Espella brushing against her elbow but she did not turn to look at her friend. Barnham was frowning, his lips clenched together and his hands tightened.
"You," she said, pointing to one of the other knights, a man whose helmet was askew and who wore plain trousers and only the top half of his armor. "Explain."
He half flinched, half jumped at being the object of her attention, blanching and then growing red as he noticed her eye on his improper outfitting. "W-well, you s-see, Miss Belduke… Uhrm… How do I put this…?"
The third knight, who fortunately wore all his armor, held up his hand instead. "We're conducting an investigation, Lady—Miss Belduke. It's really quite simple and I'm sure there's been some kind of mistake."
"A mistake, you say?! Hah!" came a female voice.
Eve's gaze flitted to a pretty, brunette woman just approaching middle age, whom she recognized as the proprietress of a small establishment in the better part of town. "Yes, Mrs.… Gewler, is it?"
"Yes, it is," that lady affirmed, her expression pinched and perturbed. She would have been quite comely if she could just smile genuinely. "And I can tell you what is going on. That man—" she pointed a well-kept fingernail in Barnham's direction, "—pilfered a ring from my shop!"
The widened eyes of both young women converged on their redheaded friend. He was strangely silent and he seemed to think his gauntlets were of more interest than anything else. At his feet and unnoticed by all was the everlasting white pup who bared his teeth at the woman who dared accuse his master.
"He wouldn't do that!" Espella cried, a bit louder than she intended. As everyone in turn focused on her, she colored slightly and lowered her voice. "I mean, why would he steal anything? Why, the very idea is silly!" she added with a flash of temper.
The knight who wore only half his armor folded his arms. "That's what we said! Our captain thwarts thievery; he does not indulge in it!" His companion nodded his head.
The ritzy store owner bit back, "You can say what you like, but he was at my shop and right after he left the ring was gone!"
Viewing Mrs. Gewler's sour expression suddenly made Eve wonder if that lady was somehow related to Miss Primstone. She scolded herself for allowing her thoughts to be distracted and put up a hand to interrupt the escalating argument.
"Am I to assume that you made a search for the missing item?"
"Of course," the woman replied. "Why ever do you think it took me such a time to make a complaint? I looked everywhere for that ring and it was nowhere to be found, I tell you! 'Twas my most expensive one!"
She fixed Eve with the same scathing glare she'd afforded Espella and the knights, but Eve met it and assumed a severe look of her own, all the while remaining as cool and composed as the calm brook in the depths of the forest. What caused her brows to wrinkle, however, was Barnham's peculiar behavior. As she glanced at him she noticed the rigidity of his jawline and how firmly his lips were pressed together. What an infuriating man! Why did he say nothing in his defense?
"Did you see him take it?"
Mrs. Gewler's forehead creased. "Well…no, I suppose not. But I was distracted for just a moment and he must have taken it then!"
"I suggest we retire to my office and settle the matter there," said the former high inquisitor, noting that the knot of curious onlookers was multiplying.
"You're not letting him out of your sight, are you?!" Mrs. Gewler demanded, once again turning her narrowed eyes suspiciously in his direction.
Barnham raised his head and Eve caught the flash in his gray eyes; it reminded her of the time a particularly discourteous and slightly inebriated tourist had accosted her and uttered several indecorous words. If her own scathing reply wasn't enough, then the fully armored knight's promise to cut off a few fingers, a nose or perhaps any other unnecessary appendages and the tiny dog growling ferociously was surely reason to send the uncouth individual scrambling away as fast as his scrawny legs could take him. They never had the displeasure of seeing that tourist again.
"I'm not going anywhere," he muttered through clenched teeth.
Eve managed to catch his eye for a split second before he looked away and she barely glimpsed the complex emotions which lay therein. She thought she saw a hurt look, much like that of his pup when found doing something naughty, but she was almost sure she had imagined it. She shook her head as if to propel the impression from her head.
"Mrs. Gewler, while we will do everything in our power to help you locate the lost item, I ask that you refrain from making accusations without solid proof."
While the irate lady spluttered and fumed uselessly, the dark-haired young woman turned and led the way to the office she shared with Barnham. On the way she stopped one of the backstage volunteers and requested that he deliver the flowers she held to the stricken actress in her stead.
Once in the familiar space of the former inquisitors' hall, Eve inhaled a quick breath as she settled herself into her stiff-backed chair. With Espella at her elbow, she instructed the two knights to see that they were not disturbed. Across from her stood the accuser and accused, the former of whom continued casting watchful eyes in the direction of the latter, as if she expected her ring to fall from whatever crevice of his armor she thought he had concealed it. Barnham stood very straight and refused to look at anyone.
"What are you going to do, Eve?" the blonde girl whispered into her ear. "You're not going to let her get away with this, right?"
"Please be quiet, Espella. I will do what I must."
Eve knew her friend was frowning concernedly. A bitter taste rose in her mouth as she stared first at her unspoilt black quill and then raised her eyes; there was nothing quite so distasteful at the moment as the heavy mantle of responsibility. She held a substantial measure of authority in the town even after ceasing to be high inquisitor; it was nothing so official as the knights, but everyone looked to her as a leader too. Deviating from her duty would be a betrayal to the townspeople, the Storyteller, herself and even Barnham. Her one hope was that he would crack those lips of his and offer some sort of explanation.
"Is there anything else you'd care to add to what you've already told us, Mrs. Gewler?" she said.
"I want my ring back!" declared the lady. "You should throw him in the dungeon!"
Deciding to completely disregard that outburst, Eve focused on the knight. "Zacharias… Barnham, what do you know of Mrs. Gewler's ring? Please explain to us." She put a slight emphasis on the "please."
His Adam's apple jerked as he swallowed; however, he remained silent and still refused to meet her gaze.
Eve paled and pursed her lips. Only when Espella nudged her elbow did she realize how tightly she been gripping at the underside of her desk. She glanced ever so briefly to her friend, grateful that the other young woman kept herself from further outbursts just yet.
"You have nothing to say?" she queried again. She fixed him in her sternest gaze and wished, hoped and silently pleaded that he say something.
"I'm sorry, Miss Eve. I have not."
She finally managed to capture his eye again and there she held him. "Then at least answer one question, for I know that you will answer truthfully. Can you tell me that you are not in possession of a ring, much less one of Mrs. Gewler's?" She was aware he never wore any such adornments and thus she was already quite sure of the answer.
But he confounded her with a "No, I cannot."
"Ah, you see?" Mrs. Gewler crowed triumphantly, again jabbing a finger toward him. "I was right! You did take it!"
The former high inquisitor brought one hand above the level of the desk and slammed her palm against the wood. "Mrs. Gewler! Would you kindly cease with your accusations long enough for us to determine what really happened!" She fixed that woman with a stern glance. "I have heard your complaint and will do all I can to see that the item in question is returned to you, or at the least I will ensure that you are compensated. I ask now that you return to your shop."
The woman's lips puckered as if she had a mouth full of lemon. "You speak to me like this…?!" she spluttered.
"It grows late, Mrs. Gewler. Please, go back to your home," Eve repeated, doing her best to keep some semblance of dignity and calm. "We will inform you of anything that happens, I assure you."
"And you will be sure to let us know if you happen to find anything useful, won't you?" Espella interjected, also looking to the elite shopkeeper.
"Hah. As if there'll be anything for me to tell you. The ring is gone! I'll not see it again."
With more muttered grumbles parting her lips, the woman finally departed with one of the knights. Eve breathed a small sigh at her exit and both she and her blonde friend exchanged a relieved glance. However, they quickly sobered and, with a twist of her lips, the former high inquisitor focused on Barnham again. He'd hardly moved a muscle, except perhaps those in his throat and the blinking of his eyes. Constantine also ceased his baleful stare and low growls.
"Tell me what this is about, Zacharias."
Not a couple weeks before they had both stood in that same room and avoided each other's gaze awkwardly while he tried to find the right words to give her a lumpy birthday present. Her embarrassment of that time was as nothing compared to the tension of the one in which she now found herself. He worked his mouth similarly, as if he was trying to find the proper way of telling her something she would not want to hear. Her heart dropped into her stomach and she pressed her lips together so firmly that they became white.
"I'm afraid I cannot oblige, Miss Eve."
Exasperation flashed across her face and through her green-blue eyes. "Then, pray tell, what am I supposed to do with you? Mrs. Gewler won't be satisfied until you're locked away in the dungeon! You are no more a thief than you are an actor, but what choice do you give me?!"
"You can't do that, Eve!" the blonde young woman cried. She freed herself of the flowers just enough to place her hand on the arm of her friend. "That's just going too far!"
"Did I say I had any notion of sending him there?" she snapped right back. "'Twould of necessity be a more serious charge than this…"
She suddenly brought her teeth together and her face reddened as she recalled how she had banished him to one of those same cells a year previous. Grimacing and raising her eyes, she met his gaze; he looked as disagreeable as she felt. She loathed him fiercely for putting her in her current predicament and because surely he realized what a spot she was in, yet he did nothing to lighten the great burden responsibility on her shoulders. Not that she wanted anyone to take pity on her or try to remove any of her duties, but was it too much to ask to have some cooperation?!
"Well then, Sir Tight Lips," she said, rising from the chair and placing both hands upon her desk. "What would you do in my place?"
Though he had averted his gaze again, hers remained on his face and held him there with the sort of expression that had been known to make other knights quake in their greaves. She was beyond trying to reason out his ridiculous, seemingly ego-driven motives. Because of the somehow successful ruin that the play had turned out to be and now this, the stress was finally making itself known by a slight throbbing at her temples, but she would not allow herself to focus on it just yet.
He swallowed again and finally replied unemotionally, "I should confine the suspected person to his home."
Eve opened her mouth but her next words would not leave her tongue. Wetting her lips, she tried again. "Then…consider yourself under house arrest, Zacharias." Her hand shook and she quickly thrust it behind her back. "You will remain at the bakery until we find out more about this incident. Perhaps you can use that time to consider what a poor choice your silence is."
"Yes, Milady."
For the briefest of moments she wondered if he was mocking her with one of his lines from the play, but almost as soon as the idea had occurred to her she discarded it. He used to refer to her in that manner while they were still inquisitors, but that habit faded slowly after the town began anew; of late he hardly used it until his performance that night. She sighed, knowing how for him old habits died a slow, drawn-out, wearisome death.
The crease of her brow deepened as he saluted her rather mechanically and she watched as he and the other knight took their leave. The poor man could not have been more embarrassed or flummoxed to be required to escort his seemingly disgraced captain to his home. Had Barnham been anything less than the highly honorable knight that he was, he might have thought of escape and had no trouble in gaining it.
Wearied of keeping the blooms in her arms, Espella unceremoniously let them cascade to her friend's desk and Eve gave no remonstration; instead she sank to her chair with her elbows on the wood and then put her face in her hands. The blonde girl perched herself on the edge of the desk and tried to pull the fists away so she could better view her companion. Once successful, she took one of Eve's hands and held it firmly.
"Oh, Espella, what a mess this is!" she moaned. "And here I thought the play was the worst this evening had to torment me!" This time she used her free hand to press against her aching forehead. "Ugh…have you ever seen such a stubborn wit of a man?! What could he possibly hope to gain by his reticence?"
The other young woman, noting her friend's physical discomfort, quickly moved around the chair. "Do you suppose he's protecting someone?" she asked, massaging Eve's temples.
"You may be right, but for whom would he go such a distance to protect?"
"The most obvious answer would be you—"
"Espella!"
"I'm only saying what I know from watching both of you. I know you haven't any part in the disappearance of that ring, though. I suppose he might even go so far for Aunt Patty or maybe me, but we haven't been to that shop either. Or maybe it's someone else."
"There's no telling what sort of addlepated gallantry he's formed in that brain of his." Eve leaned her head back and let her eyelids close for a moment. Opening them again, she exclaimed, "He has no excuse! He is still the leader of the knights and as such his duty is to ensure the peace of this town. By his foolish silence he'll now be treated and viewed like the scoundrels he ousts, the very thing he decries!"
Espella kept her own counsel on that matter as she continued running her fingers deftly along her friend's hairline. "I think I may know a little something about this," she admitted.
"You do?" Eve straightened against the stiff back of the chair.
"Yes…" the blonde girl continued hesitantly. "But please don't ask me for the details just yet. I feel as though I would be betraying a confidence if I did."
The former high inquisitor retorted testily, "Why then did you mention it if you weren't going to tell me?"
"I'm sorry. I only wanted to give you some reassurance… Mr. Barnham certainly wouldn't steal anything."
"Heh, of that I am all too aware," she said, snorting in spite of herself.
"Oh, uhm, what is the time?"
Eve dug into her pocket for the old watch which she'd inherited from her father after his death; a sigh escaped her as she glimpsed its unblemished face. "It's late."
"Well then, how about we get some sleep and start on our investigation first thing in the morning."
"Our investigation? Espella, you can't mean…"
"Of course I do mean, and you're not going to stop me, Eve. I know you're getting yourself all twisted up thinking about this case and I'm not going to let you handle it alone. I know Mr. Barnham is innocent and I know you're already planning to find out what happened. I want to help you clear him."
She grasped her friend's hand again, plying her with soft earnest eyes that the elder of the two could not refuse. The former high inquisitor leaned back and sighed heavily but she didn't offer a word of protest.
"Though I do wish Mr. Wright and Mr. Layton were still here… They could have helped us too. They were so good at figuring out things like this."
Eve rose from her seat and stepped away from the desk. "Hmph. Be that as it may, I've no doubt we can find out for ourselves."
"We should also let Dad know," Espella added and then suddenly brought her hand to her mouth. "Oh, Dad! I forgot he and Aunt Patty were going to wait for us after the play. Let's go back to the bakery and tell them what's happening. You can stay the night, too."
Pursing her lips and crossing her arms, the dark-haired young woman replied, "I don't think so. Surely the last person Zacharias wants to see is me."
"Why do you say that? He's not going to blame you. Come on, Eve…please come to the bakery with me."
But she was already turned toward the door and the hair that fell on one side of her forehead further hid her expression from her companion. "Don't ask me, Espella. I just can't face anyone else tonight."
The younger of the two thought she saw her friend's chin quiver but as Eve quickly marched for the door, she couldn't be sure. Espella hastily gathered her armful of flowers again and scurried to catch up. She was of half a mind to discard the blooms altogether; after everything that had happened, the petals seemed to have lost their brilliance, the scent had faded, and the very thought of carrying them was as a burden to her. However, she wasn't convinced enough to divest herself of them and thus she kept them.
The theater was nearly empty as the two girls let themselves out. The audience and actors had long since departed, and even the volunteers and other workers had since cleaned everything and also gone back to their homes or favorite tavern. Only a knight and the old watchman were still in the building, the former of whom exited behind both young ladies. He was a nervous young fellow who always hated the inside of a stable and the darkest parts of the forest and the only reason he had not yet returned to his quarters was because he procrastinated his departure too long after everyone else had gone.
He tried to keep his nervousness from creeping to his voice. "W-would you ladies permit me to escort you back to town? I'm sure we're going the same way."
"Of course," Espella replied, glancing quickly to her friend who made no motion. "'Tis kind of you to ask."
"I shall not be going as far as the town," the other young woman declared quietly. "I am going outside the walls."
"Oh, w-well," the poor fellow stammered as he thought of the crossing of dark paths that involved. "W-will you be w-wanting an escort?"
"No. I know the path well and will be fine," she returned, her tone cool with what the knight viewed as disdain, but which was actually just an embodiment of her fatigue. She faced her friend. "Good night, Espella."
The other girl quickly leaned into her for the briefest of sideways embraces, crushing a number of her flowers in the process. "Where shall we meet tomorrow, Eve? At the bakery?"
"Um, no Espella, I can't…" she murmured so that the knight could not overhear.
"Where then?"
Eve turned the question over in her exhausted mind. Her house? No, it was too far removed from the town and there were always people coming and going. Mr. Cantabella's lodgings? Goodness no. She wanted to prove to him that she was capable of handling a case like this without her inquisitor title or his intervention. Her office at the courthouse? That was a possibility but they'd probably be bothered by every nosy posy wanting to know what was going on. Wasn't there anywhere else they could meet and quietly discuss the case?
"When then, how about you come to the bakery tomorrow and then we'll decide. Okay?" the blonde girl suggested. She shifted the flowers in her arms and bade her friend a good night.
"Hmm? Oh Espella, wait!" Eve called after her.
The girl was already walking down the path as the knight courteously held the lantern for her. The dark-haired young woman watched them disappear into the shadows of the trees, sighed and then began wending her own way home. There she spent a lonely night in which not even sleep was her friend.
Her mind churned like raging river rapids as she turned the events of the evening over and over in her mind. She fretted about the redheaded knight's situation, worried about the investigation of the morrow, dreaded having to face curious and possibly accusatory citizens and try to answer their questions, and feared what she might find out even though she couldn't believe Barnham would steal a bread crumb that belonged to someone else, much less jewelry. Her thoughts were thusly centered and she almost forgot about the play and the embarrassment it caused her. From the sky the moon watched her serenely, sending pale beams through open curtains and seeming to mock her with the shadows it created. She could only imagine how the inhabitants of the bakery were faring.
Oh, it feels so good to be back at this story after leaving it untouched for two years! I have been grinning to myself and coming up with more ideas as I go along. This is so much fun! And 'tis just perfect that I publish this newest chapter on the same day that the game was released in North America, all of five years ago.
To Be Continued...
08-29-2019 ~ Published