Chapter 14:

Even when his guest was sleeping in the downstairs portion of the town home, Phoebus discovered that sleeping was nigh impossible. His depleted energy reserves were not as helpful as he expected when it came to aiding his slumber, while instead he lay paralyzed and cringing as true sleep eluded him.

He was aware with the approach of dawn that Jehan had finally stopped snoring, and greedily accepted the last few moments of rest available to him.

Somewhere in the mist of sleep, behind the wafting smiles of Esmeralda in their ethereal swirl, Phoebus could hear someone knocking at his door.

It was the businesslike rapping cadence of a military hand, and he knew duty demanded his attention.

His discipline would not allow him to rest further than that, though his body ached for rest.

While he gave himself over to the stiffness and the infirmity of his flesh, he heard someone outside begin an argument with another man, but their voices were too muffled to surmise more than their tone.

There were noises from below, as well, these more easily attributed to the feet of Jehan. If Phoebus had been downstairs with him, he might have begged him not to intervene, and yet there was the croaking of his door belching open, and Phoebus, still paralyzed, listened as Jehan greeted the two men at the door.

"Captain Phoebus de Chateaupers has been summoned by Dom Claude Frollo to the Palace of Justice!" a soldier announced with the sharpness of barely controlled irritation.

"Yes, but he has also been summoned by my mistress, Madamoiselle Gondelaurier!" a civilian servant's voice, no doubt of it, and Phoebus could even recognize the voice from household chatter, so this was no fraud… What cause could there be for fraud?

Reluctant and cranky from his lack of rest, Phoebus slowly shambled down the stairs, peering down at the fellows who all stood in his front room. "Good morning, sirs," he grunted.

They both peered at him.

"Captain Phoebus, are you ill?" the soldier asked, as he was the first to decide he had a right to speak, though he stood at attention as he did so.

Despite how sorely Phoebus wanted to reply that indeed he was ill and should not be bothered for the rest of the day, Phoebus knew that might make him look suspicious. "Not ill… suffering the effects of too much work yesterday, but I am capable of serving the needs of my station." He spoke automatically with the language taught him at war.

War, now that would wake him!

Let him feel the same wave of vigor which could keep him fighting all day despite the ravages of war's demands.

"But would you so surely neglect the request of your lady love?" the servant asked. "By my honor as a Frenchman! Surely a lady's request holds greater sway over any man than the call of his employer!"

"But I am more afraid of Frollo than Fleur," Phoebus responded, with perhaps too much candor. "What I meant to say is, my sense of duty is more actively required by the judge."

"I could go," Jehan said, and Phoebus was surprised by the generous, friendly tone he heard.

"I couldn't ask you to visit Frollo on my behalf," Phoebus said, reluctantly. "Not this time, anyway. I have to appear before him and see what his orders are."

"Oh, I wasn't suggesting I should go see my brother! Why would I want to do such a thing? I've already got a place to stay! I thought I'd go and see your Fleur. She sounds lovely."

Phoebus felt his lips twitch, but managed to restrain his snort. "Yes, she is lovely," he admitted, and was about to discourage Jehan from going to visit her, but then he recognized that Jehan was a man of pretty words when he wanted to be, and at least if he went, he was less likely to be hectored by Fleur than Phoebus himself would be. He may make a better time of it, if he were to go. "Send the lady my deepest regrets," he said.

Fleur's servant twitched, as if he were imagining the punishment that he would receive at Fleur's hands, but Jehan was ecstatic. It made sense, after all, he'd only been around bar wenches and lady knaves for so long, according to Phoebus's estimation, that he was drooling at the thought of a woman who didn't smell of the sewer. Which was nothing against women who smelled like sewers, he corrected as the image of La Esmeralda danced before his inner eyes.

With agitated haste, the soldier led Phoebus to the Palace of Justice. The short distance between Phoebus's little house and the Palace gave Phoebus ample time to fret over what lay before him.

Rather than the dungeon in which he had first encountered Frollo, Phoebus was taken to an out-of-the-way door through which was a choked, dark room.

At first, when he was abandoned there, Phoebus had to squint to see anything but piles of books, but as he adjusted to the dimness, he saw more still. He wished he hadn't seen Frollo bent over his desk, with a fevered look in his eyes, but there he was.

The brooding frenzy he saw Frollo in disturbed him, looking like a demon who'd been painted in the margins of some illuminated text.

"Sir?" he asked, hesitantly, with his arms firmly folded behind his back.

"Good, Captain, you're here, close the door behind you!"

That was quite literally the last thing Phoebus wished to do, but he had received a direct order, and he had not been trained to be insubordinate. Slowly, carefully, as if a dagger might come plunging into his flesh from the shadows, he obeyed.

"I hear that the gypsy girl is still cowering in the shadows of Notre Dame," Frollo said without looking up from the papers. There was something else on the desk, Phoebus realized, several bottles which he could see Frollo weighing on a scale.

Was this… alchemy?

A shiver ran down Phoebus's spine which he was glad did not make his armor clank. There may be something to learn from the study of alchemy, but it had always made Phoebus uneasy.

"Do not give me that look," Frollo scolded, "you look like an ignorant peasant!"

"Forgive me, sir, I would like to ask what you require of me." In an effort to find anything but Frollo to look at, Phoebus's eyes fell on one of the walls.

That was when he first saw the words, "LA ESMERALDA" scrawled upon the wall in chalk, multiple times over and in all capital letters. His mind began to spin through the throes of attempting to understand what he was looking at. Was this written because he wished to capture her, or… something else?

"Never you mind that!" Frollo growled, springing up from his seat and giving Phoebus the most shining-eyed glare he'd ever received from a human being off the battlefield. "You're here to tell me what you saw in the church last night… Did you see her?"

Phoebus paused, seeing the judge's eyes and knowing instantly that he had not slept the whole night. You'd think with a nice place to sleep and no churches to climb while wearing armor someone would be able to sleep, but apparently something else was eating at Frollo.

"Well?" Frollo demanded, taking a step closer.

"Sorry, sir, I was… are you unwell?"

"What does that matter?" Frollo snarled, his hair falling out of place so stringy gray strands fell into his eyes. Phoebus could not remember a single hair of Claude Frollo's hair ever being out of place… something was pulling his hinges out of alignment one by one.

He was tempted to look back at the wall, but he couldn't risk it.

"I saw her," he said slowly, putting extra effort into keeping his tone even and looking into Frollo's beady, bloodshot eyes to avoid looking like the liar that he was. "She looked frightened. So she ran, and so I didn't see her once she made it to her cell."

Those words came to him much more easily than anticipated. What did that say about him?

"You let her outrun you?" Frollo asked.

"I didn't so much let her… I had climbed into the church in armor, so I was weaker than usual."

"Well," Frollo straightened, smoothing his hair back into place, "I admire your dedication to justice. Of course, I shall have to send my spies into the church and have them find the gypsy's weakness."

"I think I should be the one to do that," Phoebus said hurriedly.

Frollo glanced at him sharply. "You haven't been letting that witch charm you, have you?"

"No, no, but… she recognizes me by now… And I think if given enough time, I could lure her out of the church—"

"And into the waiting hands of the law!" Frollo hopped up from his chair again, his shoulders curled forward as if he were about to lunge on some innocent and suck the life from their neck. "This is why I like you so much, Captain! If your plan works, you shall see your fortunes multiplied! Now go! I must return to my studies…" he turned from his captain and back to his desk, which suited Phoebus just perfectly.

Without another word, Phoebus hurried away, swiftly closing the door behind himself so that he could shudder in peace.