Chapter X.

Two Winters Later

And so, time rolled slowly along. Two years to be specific. During that long period of time, my siblings and I quickly settled into life in Paris. There was a certain pattern to our lives in that city. Every morning, we were awakened by Notre Dame's loud bells, rung by Quasimodo of course. The day would pass slowly as we danced, sang and played music in the street, usually for only enough money to buy a single loaf of bread for dinner. Then the bells of the great cathedral would ring again in the afternoon, and the eerie chanting of the monks would fill the starry nights. It was a relatively difficult, but peaceful life, and I was content.

Before we knew it, the two years had passed, and it was the Festival of Fools once again. The excitement and festivities of the Festival of Fools never grew old, and of course, we gorged ourselves silly. I was now sixteen. In all honesty I hadn't changed much at all. Maybe I was a bit wiser, a bit more aware of the world around me, but nothing very huge. No one else had changed either. Heidi had grown up, but was still scared of big animals, Jasmine was still quiet and submissive, though intelligent, Marcel was still mischievous and clever, and Henri was still a follower. Esmeralda hadn't changed either. She was still the beautiful, caring gypsy girl she had always been. If anyone had changed at all, it was Ramus and Anisa. They had finally fallen in love with each other for real, and were expecting a baby in a few months.

That night after the festivities, Marcel and I slowly trudged home to the Court of Miracles, wandering slowly through the Parisian alleys. It was a typical carnival night: the candles in every window were lit, and people like us were slowly returning to their abodes, clad in masks, feathers and colorful carnival costumes.

"This is the only day of the year I live for," Marcel said sighing. "Complete paradise for twenty four hours. Plenty of food, plenty of games, everything is topsy turvy."

"It is nice," I agreed. "But you don't live for it, do you? The rest of the year isn't so bad."

Marcel sighed. "I just wish life was like this more often, you know? I guess I wish that we weren't on the bottom of the cursus honorum."

"Cursus honorum?" I asked, "what's that?"

"The Ladder of Honor," Marcel replied. "It's Latin, you know, from Rome. It means we are on the very bottom of the social classes in Paris. I mean, it's not a bad life, but no one else seems to like us very much. There are exceptions, but most of the city views us, and all the other gypsies as vermin."

I sighed. "You know, I think you're upset about Monique."

Monique was another girl that Marcel had recently fallen in love with. Unfortunately, when she had found out that Marcel was in the Court of Miracles, her father had prohibited them from seeing each other.

"No…I AM not!" Marcel grumbled. "Ok, maybe a little, but I have a right to be. Life just isn't fair."

"No kidding."

After a little while, we reached the catacombs. Even they were lit up to celebrate the festivities.

"How was the carnival?" Anisa asked as we entered our sleeping quarters. She was strumming on a small wooden mandolin.

"Where's Ramus?" I asked. "Shouldn't he be with you?"

"He went outside to get some fresh air," Anisa replied. She jolted suddenly.

"What was that?"

"It was the baby," Anisa replied. "It just kicked."

"Are you nervous?" Marcel asked slowly. Lots of mothers died giving birth.

"A little," Anisa admitted. "But I'm sure that the baby will be strong. It gets that from both parents."

By now, most of the other gypsies had returned from the night's festivities. Ramus was among them.

"How are you doing my love?" he asked Anisa as he walked over to us. "I just had to get out and stretch a little."

"I'm doing fine," Anisa answered. "Although it would be nice to get outside as well. It's too bad we had to miss the Festival of Fools tonight."

"It will still be around next year," Ramus replied, kissing Anisa's forhead. She returned the kiss, and the two of them begin to make love to each other.

"I think that's our cue to leave and give them privacy," I whispered. Marcel nodded, and we left the chamber to meet everyone else. Jasmine and Heidi had returned and Henri was there too.

"Did you enjoy the day?" I asked them. They all nodded, but I couldn't hear what they said, because a loud ruckus was beginning to develop among the other gypsies.

"What's going on?" I asked. Marcel just shrugged, and Jasmine, Heidi and Henri weren't helpful either. Then I saw what it was.

A man, probably the same age as Ramus and Anisa was being hauled in by two large, muscular gypsies. He was pleading to them to let him go, but they didn't notice. They were dragging him to the island where we had all our meetings.

"Clopin, sir, we have brought before you a trespasser."

"Oh? Do we now?" Clopin asked, with a amused sneer in his voice. It reminded me of how he had treated Ramus, Jasmine, and Heidi and I when we had first entered the Court of Miracles. It was the way he acted when he wanted to see bloodshed.

"Please sir," the man was begging, "I'm no trespasser. I came here completely by mistake. I had no intention of breaking in."

"I find that hard to believe, due to the fact that our little hideout is underground in a catacomb. People don't just accidently make the mistake of walking into a catacomb. Do they?"

"Please sir-"

"Silence!" Clopin yelled at him. "You have only two choices. Become one of us, or be killed."

"But!-"

"No buts! Those are the rules. If you hadn't been snooping around the wrong parts of Paris, you wouldn't have gotten yourself into this mess, now would you? Am I right? I said, AM I RIGHT?"

"Yes, yes you're right," the man stuttered. He was obviously completely shaken with fear.

"Now, what is your decision going to be?" Clopin asked.

"I guess I only have one choice," the man answered. "I'll join you people."

"Ok, that's very nice, now who exactly are you?"

"My name is Pierre Gringoire. I am a play write, and a poet."

"Well, Pierre," Clopin replied in a mock tone, "you first must prove to us that you will be useful to the Court of Miracles."

"How will I do that?" Pierre Gringoire asked.

Clopin snapped his fingers. The same two muscular men pushed out a cart with a dummy on it. It was the same dummy that Ramus had had to use to retrieve the money. It jingled menacingly. "This is how."

Pierre gulped. "What do I do exactly?"

Clopin laughed. "It's simple. Somewhere in this dummy's clothes is a satchel filled with money. Your task is to retrieve it without ringing a single bell. If we hear one single jingle, then we slit your throat and we're done. Also, you have to stand on one foot while you do it"

"That's impossible!" Gringoire gasped.

"Would you rather we slit your throat right now?"

"Fine, I'll do it," Pierre Gringoire replied, clenching his teeth.

This was turning out to be a reenactment of the first day we had met the gypsies. It was the same thing happening all over again. I felt bad for the poor man, because I knew exactly what fear was running through his head.

Slowly, Pierre raised one foot, swinging a bit uneasily. But the minute he reached for the dummy, the one leg he was standing on gave way and he went crashing forward into the dummy which exploded with a symphony of ringing and jingling. Poor guy, he had failed the test.

"Well, that's it, isn't it?" Clopin said smirking, "don't feel too bad, at least you'll be in a better place."

"Clopin, I believe you're forgetting something, aren't you?" someone shouted out.

"And what is that?" Clopin asked. He took a few moments to think about it and sighed. "Why is it that I always forget that one other rule? Is there anyone who will marry Pierre Gringoire?"

At first no one answered, just like with Ramus, but then a voice spoke up. "I'll marry him."

To my utter surprise and shock, it was Esmeralda!

"I'll marry him," she repeated.

"Yes, I heard you the first time Esmeralda, but are you completely sure?" Clopin asked. Just like before, it seemed as though he would rather hang this man for sport, than marry him off to one of the girls in the Court of Miracles.

"I'm completely sure. If no one else will take him, then I can't just let him die, can I?"

"Why did you have to be so pure hearted?" Clopin asked in a winy voice. "Very well. Somebody grab a jug."

An old gypsy woman handed him a tall water vase, like the kind that the women in India and Africa balance on their heads.

With little enthusiasm, Clopin ran through the simple gypsy vows. Both Esmeralda and Pierre said "I do" and the vase was broken. Esmeralda was now married. And I was painfully jealous.

Note: To all of you who have only watched the movie, this is an actual scene in the book. So don't give me credit for Pierre Gringoire, because that was all Victor Hugo. This was actually how I got the idea for Anisa and Ramus's wedding in the first place. Hope you enjoyed! Please review! Special thanks so far to Opaque Opal and disneyqueen for reviewing and giving me tips on how to make this story better. Rock on you guys!!! Sincerely, Rainforest Treefrog.