He jerked back, his old friend Fear settling in his stomach as anger left. He swallowed, trying to figure out what she was doing. He could see her laugh.
“Of course, I guess gypsies specialize in dealing with people. Goodbye, Desmond.”
He watched her leave before fleeing back to his tower and playing with the dolls until he went to bed.
Meanwhile, William was pacing up the stairs to the tower. He knew when Desmond slept. He knew the boy’s patterns well. If this plan was going to work, he was going to have to not be caught. He didn’t want Desmond suffering for anything else. The boy deserved to be left out, but now this was war, and he’d have to be careful if he wasn’t going to have him be drug in. When Maria told him she thought that the gypsy had escaped using Desmond, William knew it to be true. Still, his son held no blame. He was probably just trying to be a nice person.
He knew the gypsy had seen him comfort his son and eat dinner with him. He had felt him watching from the shadows. He wasn’t surprised that Desmond had been duped into helping him. Maria had confirmed his suspicions. He paced over to his son’s bed, watching the boy breath.
Bingo.
He could see a necklace around his neck that had never been there before. He had a sneaking suspicion that the gypsy had tried to lure him away from his bell tower with the promise of the Court, and had probably given him a map when he decided not to follow. He pulled out a small sheet of parchment and a stick of coal, and set about drawing the giant charm around his son’s neck. The game was on, and William didn’t intend to lose it.
His captain could play traitor; his son could play innocently too, but ultimately, William would emerge victorious. And just because he loved him, he would even make sure his son had a good time in the game as well.
So the next morning, after Desmond had risen and washed up, rung the bells and sat down with his dolls, he was unbelievably happy to see his master come up with a small package with their breakfast.
And the breakfast smelled hot, too.
He set the table quickly and sat down as Master Miles unpacked the basket, and he squirmed and wiggled. His master laughed and promised him the package hidden in the bottom after they ate, so Desmond was all too eager for prayer as he started to wolf down the food, but slowed down a bit later to enjoy the hot treat.
“You know, Desmond, I’ve been thinking,” he saw signed, and he tilted his head as his master took a bite.
“About what?” he signed back.
“About what I should do with the gypsies. And as I started looking for them, I found out some interesting things.”
He leaned in to watch him sign.
“Apparently, in the Court of Miracles, the lame can walk; the blind can see… and the deaf can hear.”
He straightened up, setting his fork down at that idea. He would like to be able to hear again.
“And I was thinking that I could pardon the gypsies if they would let us use this so-called Court.”
He perked up. “Really?”
“But I don’t know where it is.”
He slouched back down, his mind wandering briefly to the necklace Altair gave him.
“And I’d love to send someone out after it, but all the gypsies hide from the guards.”
“I could look for it!” he shouted, feeling almost delirious with happiness.
“I couldn’t have you look for it, not after the way the people treated you before,” his master signed.
“You could have a guard dress down and come with me!” he said, beaming and proud of his thoughts and cleverness.
He would actually get to see the Court of Miracles. He would get to be on a mission for his master, to show him just how much he loved him in return for everything he had done. He could take his dolls, show them their replicas, and see Altair again. He was bouncing in his seat, hoping his master would let him attempt such a quest. He could see Master Miles watching him momentarily before he pursed his lips.
“If I let you go, you must take Captain Thorpe with you.”
He pulled back, frowning. He didn’t want that woman with him. She was stupid and mean. But, if he went with her, he could go visit Altair. And that would be fun. He could show off his dolls. He nodded.
“Yeah! I’ll do it. I want to go,” he signed, and he smiled at the flash of pride in his master’s eyes.
“Very well. You will set off tonight. I will have Maria wait for you outside the church.”
He nodded vigorously as he finished his meal before it got cold, chattering ceaselessly about his plants and how well they were growing. He took the package when offered, tearing it open and nearly bouncing at the seed packets that he saw for his little garden. Once his master left, he picked up a few scraps of cloth and made himself a tiny pouch. He put in the dolls of Altair, the lady, and the two brothers, eager to show them off. He also tucked in the nuts that his master had left him for a snack and made sure he had his necklace.
He was so excited: he was going show his master how much he loved him.
He blinked when the lady from last night appear in the doorway of his tower. She looked so much different without all her armor he almost didn’t recognize her. Still, he swallowed when she approached him and said something rapidly. He blinked, not understanding a word she said. Finally, she caught on and slowed her speaking.
“Are you ready? We’ve got quite a task in front of us.”
Maria couldn’t believe Archdeacon Miles had sentenced her to work with this beast to find the Court of Miracles. No gypsy in his right mind would give a map to someone as malformed as this person. Of course, it was also arguable that no gypsy was in his right mind. Now, she had to crawl along the belly of this foul city with a creature that looked like the perfect representation of how she viewed the place. Of course, from what she had heard from Archdeacon Miles, this poor creature didn’t deserve to live here, too kind for its own good.
Still, wrapped up in her cloak, she watched the poor thing pull out a necklace, offering it out. She took the offered charm and looked at it, quickly identifying it as a map to the city. She nodded. They’d have to follow it, and it looked like it was going to lead them to a cemetery.
“Can you read it?” she heard him say, and she had to pause.
The creature’s voice was beautiful, almost as beautiful as that gypsy Altair’s voice. She looked up, hearing it for the first time in a non-threatening tone. She could see his golden eyes, a vague reminiscent of the gypsy man. After a few minutes of quiet, the poor thing looked down, wringing his mangled hands, thick with calluses from pulling the bell ropes. She was willing to bet that it was actually startlingly well-built underneath those clothes, and the scars were simply on skin.
If the poor thing hadn’t been burned so badly, it probably would have been married off younger than most couples and already working with kids.
She straightened, chuckling. Listening to herself, she realized she was getting soft. Of course, her first lines of thought clued her in to how desperate she needed a one-night stand with someone. She shook her head and waved a hand at her side to catch the man’s attention.
Slowly, “I can. Don’t worry. Your voice is beautiful.”
The creature jumped, and she laughed at the wide-eyed stare she was given, gesturing the thing over. It limped over to her slowly.
“I won’t bite: I promise.”
It stopped, jerking back, then looked down. “S-sorry.”
She waited before leading him off, through the grimy streets. She hated this city, hated the food, hated the people. Of course, there was this creature, this hardly-human monster, that was, if she were to be quite honest with herself for just a moment, was more human than the rest of the base, disgusting filth that wandered the streets of this God-forsaken city. At least Archdeacon Miles was working to clean it up. She wrapped a hand around the creature’s shoulders, guiding quickly and quietly, purposefully overlooking the tenseness and the fear it gave off. She led it to the cemetery, then over to one of the tombs as the map suggested. She frowned, looking around.
And then it wandered over into an open mausoleum that had been ransacked a few years ago, it seemed, and Maria found herself compelled to follow. She walked down with it, into some catacombs, and frowned. This was not what she was expecting. It grew dark, and she stepped closer. The poor dear seemed completely oblivious to all the death around it. It seemed so happy and excited to be in a catacomb, watching the rats scurry and the water drip.
And then the worst thing possible happened.
Out of nowhere, lights appeared, and she and the beast were surrounded by the gypsies. She could see their weapons, and she could see the malicious looks they had, and she knew they had been trapped. She whirled around just to check that, yes, they were surrounded, and she found herself back-to-back with the thing.
“Hi!” the deformity chirped when a man in orange stepped forward. “We’re looking for the Court of Miracles so that I can hear things again!”
Maria pinched her nose, her shoulder sagging and every ounce of hope she had for getting out of here alive dying. The creature was also stupid. She had to question Archdeacon Miles’s motives for sending him with her. She heard the gypsies laugh, and then a soft, lilting voice started to sing. It was definitely malicious, but it was slow and steady, making it appear kind until she listened to the words.
“So you’ve finally heard of that mythical place called the Court of Miracles—hello, you’re there!”
She could feel the dumb beast take her hand and walk off with them as they pushed her forward. He seemed to be completely unaware of the malicious undertones of the soft song.
“We say that the lame can walk, and the blind can see, but the dead don’t talk, so you won’t be around to reveal what you’ve found. Welcome to the Court of Miracles, where it’s a miracle if you get out here alive!”
She walked alongside the monster, who was smiling and watching all the gypsies as they all danced like gleeful children to the hideous tune she could hear. It was bouncing to an unknown beat, and all Maria wanted to do was run her sword through its chest. The gypsies rolled and tumbled, as if putting on a show for them. They were definitely going to die. She stumbled along as they were pushed onto a large platform in an even larger room full of the damn people, and there was already a crowd gathering. Maria recognized the platform: the gallows.
“Justice is swift in the Court of Miracles—I am the lawyers and judge all in one! We like to get the trial over with quickly because it’s the sentence that’s really the fun!”
So that man had been the one singing. The orange man stepped up, onto the stage, dressed in something akin to a king’s outfit. The man in orange was standing by the lever to pull for the trap doors. The orange man chuckled, trailing a hand along her hand.
“Now, I’m not unfair, and I realize just by watching you that you don’t want to be here, and this poor, demented creature probably got duped into coming, so I’ll cut you a deal, my friend.”
She looked at the deformity, who was watching her. It probably couldn’t read the lips of the speedy talkers. She smiled softly, and it smiled back, content to wait and see what happened next.
“Don’t worry,” she said slowly, and the creature nodded, smiling warmly and looking at all the people, his eyes alight with amazement at the decorations and the people.
“Ah… such innocence. I hope it survives,” the man said, pointing a finger up at the ceiling as if it would help. “So, do we have anybody willing?”
“What do you mean?” she growled.
The orange man laughed. “It’s a tradition. The poor, unfortunate souls who sometimes wander down here are given a chance to be snatched up for marriage—or are left to hang. We can’t have them going out to tattle, now, can we? So they marry a gypsy, and they become one of us.”
Maria scowled. “There’s no one that will marry the beast beside me.”
She looked when she felt a finger tap her shoulder, and she saw the creature looking at her, worried. She rolled her eyes.
“Don’t. Worry.”
It nodded and sat down awkwardly, staring at its lap. As it wrung its hands, she heard it humming quietly to itself.
“Well, that’s not my problem, is it?” the orange man said. “Well?” She looked out at the crowd of gypsies.
“I’ll take her,” she heard, and the crowd parted to reveal the same damn gypsy that still made her loins stir and her reminder that she hadn’t slept with anyone that damn attractive in a long time.
Their eyes met, and she knew this man would take good care of her. Definitely the care she wanted, and most certainly the care she needed. She also bet that with enough persuasion, she could convince him to follow her into the war, where she could get her position back after explaining why she had been sent to Paris in the first place. Her commander liked her more than that, she knew for certain. This would be covered up and forgotten.
“And the other?”
That made her snap back into reality. She frowned, looking out at the silent crowd. There would be no one who would marry it. No one could want to marry that thing. It was hideous—and it was stupid. She looked at it, sitting and rocking as it hummed to itself.
“No one? No takers? Not one? So he’ll be swinging alone tonight, then. Probably a good thing. He is the Archdeacon’s dog, after all. He’d probably go home and—”
“No,” Maria said before she could stop herself. “No, it wouldn’t. That thing wouldn’t go home and tattle, and if you think that Archdeacon Miles doesn’t already know where you guys are, you’re mistaken. He’s two steps ahead of you, and this… this thing is the least of your worries.”
She didn’t know why she was sticking up for it. She had no idea. It was for the best that it would die.
“Still,” the orange man said as her new “husband” walked forward to pick her up, “we can’t very well let him go out and about now. He’s got too much knowledge.”
“I’m not saying you should let him go. He needs to be dead.”
There was a merciless laugh from the orange man.
“But I am saying that Archdeacon Miles will invade this place if you kill his son. He’ll wipe you all out before you can even blink. He’s got more power than you know. Trust me: you want to let him walk free.”
The Hunchback of Notre Dame pt5
“Of course, I guess gypsies specialize in dealing with people. Goodbye, Desmond.”
He watched her leave before fleeing back to his tower and playing with the dolls until he went to bed.
Meanwhile, William was pacing up the stairs to the tower. He knew when Desmond slept. He knew the boy’s patterns well. If this plan was going to work, he was going to have to not be caught. He didn’t want Desmond suffering for anything else. The boy deserved to be left out, but now this was war, and he’d have to be careful if he wasn’t going to have him be drug in. When Maria told him she thought that the gypsy had escaped using Desmond, William knew it to be true. Still, his son held no blame. He was probably just trying to be a nice person.
He knew the gypsy had seen him comfort his son and eat dinner with him. He had felt him watching from the shadows. He wasn’t surprised that Desmond had been duped into helping him. Maria had confirmed his suspicions. He paced over to his son’s bed, watching the boy breath.
Bingo.
He could see a necklace around his neck that had never been there before. He had a sneaking suspicion that the gypsy had tried to lure him away from his bell tower with the promise of the Court, and had probably given him a map when he decided not to follow. He pulled out a small sheet of parchment and a stick of coal, and set about drawing the giant charm around his son’s neck. The game was on, and William didn’t intend to lose it.
His captain could play traitor; his son could play innocently too, but ultimately, William would emerge victorious. And just because he loved him, he would even make sure his son had a good time in the game as well.
So the next morning, after Desmond had risen and washed up, rung the bells and sat down with his dolls, he was unbelievably happy to see his master come up with a small package with their breakfast.
And the breakfast smelled hot, too.
He set the table quickly and sat down as Master Miles unpacked the basket, and he squirmed and wiggled. His master laughed and promised him the package hidden in the bottom after they ate, so Desmond was all too eager for prayer as he started to wolf down the food, but slowed down a bit later to enjoy the hot treat.
“You know, Desmond, I’ve been thinking,” he saw signed, and he tilted his head as his master took a bite.
“About what?” he signed back.
“About what I should do with the gypsies. And as I started looking for them, I found out some interesting things.”
He leaned in to watch him sign.
“Apparently, in the Court of Miracles, the lame can walk; the blind can see… and the deaf can hear.”
He straightened up, setting his fork down at that idea. He would like to be able to hear again.
“And I was thinking that I could pardon the gypsies if they would let us use this so-called Court.”
He perked up. “Really?”
“But I don’t know where it is.”
He slouched back down, his mind wandering briefly to the necklace Altair gave him.
“And I’d love to send someone out after it, but all the gypsies hide from the guards.”
“I could look for it!” he shouted, feeling almost delirious with happiness.
“I couldn’t have you look for it, not after the way the people treated you before,” his master signed.
“You could have a guard dress down and come with me!” he said, beaming and proud of his thoughts and cleverness.
He would actually get to see the Court of Miracles. He would get to be on a mission for his master, to show him just how much he loved him in return for everything he had done. He could take his dolls, show them their replicas, and see Altair again. He was bouncing in his seat, hoping his master would let him attempt such a quest. He could see Master Miles watching him momentarily before he pursed his lips.
“If I let you go, you must take Captain Thorpe with you.”
He pulled back, frowning. He didn’t want that woman with him. She was stupid and mean. But, if he went with her, he could go visit Altair. And that would be fun. He could show off his dolls. He nodded.
“Yeah! I’ll do it. I want to go,” he signed, and he smiled at the flash of pride in his master’s eyes.
“Very well. You will set off tonight. I will have Maria wait for you outside the church.”
He nodded vigorously as he finished his meal before it got cold, chattering ceaselessly about his plants and how well they were growing. He took the package when offered, tearing it open and nearly bouncing at the seed packets that he saw for his little garden. Once his master left, he picked up a few scraps of cloth and made himself a tiny pouch. He put in the dolls of Altair, the lady, and the two brothers, eager to show them off. He also tucked in the nuts that his master had left him for a snack and made sure he had his necklace.
He was so excited: he was going show his master how much he loved him.
He blinked when the lady from last night appear in the doorway of his tower. She looked so much different without all her armor he almost didn’t recognize her. Still, he swallowed when she approached him and said something rapidly. He blinked, not understanding a word she said. Finally, she caught on and slowed her speaking.
“Are you ready? We’ve got quite a task in front of us.”
Maria couldn’t believe Archdeacon Miles had sentenced her to work with this beast to find the Court of Miracles. No gypsy in his right mind would give a map to someone as malformed as this person. Of course, it was also arguable that no gypsy was in his right mind. Now, she had to crawl along the belly of this foul city with a creature that looked like the perfect representation of how she viewed the place. Of course, from what she had heard from Archdeacon Miles, this poor creature didn’t deserve to live here, too kind for its own good.
Still, wrapped up in her cloak, she watched the poor thing pull out a necklace, offering it out. She took the offered charm and looked at it, quickly identifying it as a map to the city. She nodded. They’d have to follow it, and it looked like it was going to lead them to a cemetery.
“Can you read it?” she heard him say, and she had to pause.
The creature’s voice was beautiful, almost as beautiful as that gypsy Altair’s voice. She looked up, hearing it for the first time in a non-threatening tone. She could see his golden eyes, a vague reminiscent of the gypsy man. After a few minutes of quiet, the poor thing looked down, wringing his mangled hands, thick with calluses from pulling the bell ropes. She was willing to bet that it was actually startlingly well-built underneath those clothes, and the scars were simply on skin.
If the poor thing hadn’t been burned so badly, it probably would have been married off younger than most couples and already working with kids.
She straightened, chuckling. Listening to herself, she realized she was getting soft. Of course, her first lines of thought clued her in to how desperate she needed a one-night stand with someone. She shook her head and waved a hand at her side to catch the man’s attention.
Slowly, “I can. Don’t worry. Your voice is beautiful.”
The creature jumped, and she laughed at the wide-eyed stare she was given, gesturing the thing over. It limped over to her slowly.
“I won’t bite: I promise.”
It stopped, jerking back, then looked down. “S-sorry.”
She waited before leading him off, through the grimy streets. She hated this city, hated the food, hated the people. Of course, there was this creature, this hardly-human monster, that was, if she were to be quite honest with herself for just a moment, was more human than the rest of the base, disgusting filth that wandered the streets of this God-forsaken city. At least Archdeacon Miles was working to clean it up. She wrapped a hand around the creature’s shoulders, guiding quickly and quietly, purposefully overlooking the tenseness and the fear it gave off. She led it to the cemetery, then over to one of the tombs as the map suggested. She frowned, looking around.
And then it wandered over into an open mausoleum that had been ransacked a few years ago, it seemed, and Maria found herself compelled to follow. She walked down with it, into some catacombs, and frowned. This was not what she was expecting. It grew dark, and she stepped closer. The poor dear seemed completely oblivious to all the death around it. It seemed so happy and excited to be in a catacomb, watching the rats scurry and the water drip.
And then the worst thing possible happened.
Out of nowhere, lights appeared, and she and the beast were surrounded by the gypsies. She could see their weapons, and she could see the malicious looks they had, and she knew they had been trapped. She whirled around just to check that, yes, they were surrounded, and she found herself back-to-back with the thing.
“Hi!” the deformity chirped when a man in orange stepped forward. “We’re looking for the Court of Miracles so that I can hear things again!”
Maria pinched her nose, her shoulder sagging and every ounce of hope she had for getting out of here alive dying. The creature was also stupid. She had to question Archdeacon Miles’s motives for sending him with her. She heard the gypsies laugh, and then a soft, lilting voice started to sing. It was definitely malicious, but it was slow and steady, making it appear kind until she listened to the words.
“So you’ve finally heard of that mythical place called the Court of Miracles—hello, you’re there!”
She could feel the dumb beast take her hand and walk off with them as they pushed her forward. He seemed to be completely unaware of the malicious undertones of the soft song.
“We say that the lame can walk, and the blind can see, but the dead don’t talk, so you won’t be around to reveal what you’ve found. Welcome to the Court of Miracles, where it’s a miracle if you get out here alive!”
She walked alongside the monster, who was smiling and watching all the gypsies as they all danced like gleeful children to the hideous tune she could hear. It was bouncing to an unknown beat, and all Maria wanted to do was run her sword through its chest. The gypsies rolled and tumbled, as if putting on a show for them. They were definitely going to die. She stumbled along as they were pushed onto a large platform in an even larger room full of the damn people, and there was already a crowd gathering. Maria recognized the platform: the gallows.
“Justice is swift in the Court of Miracles—I am the lawyers and judge all in one! We like to get the trial over with quickly because it’s the sentence that’s really the fun!”
So that man had been the one singing. The orange man stepped up, onto the stage, dressed in something akin to a king’s outfit. The man in orange was standing by the lever to pull for the trap doors. The orange man chuckled, trailing a hand along her hand.
“Now, I’m not unfair, and I realize just by watching you that you don’t want to be here, and this poor, demented creature probably got duped into coming, so I’ll cut you a deal, my friend.”
She looked at the deformity, who was watching her. It probably couldn’t read the lips of the speedy talkers. She smiled softly, and it smiled back, content to wait and see what happened next.
“Don’t worry,” she said slowly, and the creature nodded, smiling warmly and looking at all the people, his eyes alight with amazement at the decorations and the people.
“Ah… such innocence. I hope it survives,” the man said, pointing a finger up at the ceiling as if it would help. “So, do we have anybody willing?”
“What do you mean?” she growled.
The orange man laughed. “It’s a tradition. The poor, unfortunate souls who sometimes wander down here are given a chance to be snatched up for marriage—or are left to hang. We can’t have them going out to tattle, now, can we? So they marry a gypsy, and they become one of us.”
Maria scowled. “There’s no one that will marry the beast beside me.”
She looked when she felt a finger tap her shoulder, and she saw the creature looking at her, worried. She rolled her eyes.
“Don’t. Worry.”
It nodded and sat down awkwardly, staring at its lap. As it wrung its hands, she heard it humming quietly to itself.
“Well, that’s not my problem, is it?” the orange man said. “Well?”
She looked out at the crowd of gypsies.
“I’ll take her,” she heard, and the crowd parted to reveal the same damn gypsy that still made her loins stir and her reminder that she hadn’t slept with anyone that damn attractive in a long time.
Their eyes met, and she knew this man would take good care of her. Definitely the care she wanted, and most certainly the care she needed. She also bet that with enough persuasion, she could convince him to follow her into the war, where she could get her position back after explaining why she had been sent to Paris in the first place. Her commander liked her more than that, she knew for certain. This would be covered up and forgotten.
“And the other?”
That made her snap back into reality. She frowned, looking out at the silent crowd. There would be no one who would marry it. No one could want to marry that thing. It was hideous—and it was stupid. She looked at it, sitting and rocking as it hummed to itself.
“No one? No takers? Not one? So he’ll be swinging alone tonight, then. Probably a good thing. He is the Archdeacon’s dog, after all. He’d probably go home and—”
“No,” Maria said before she could stop herself. “No, it wouldn’t. That thing wouldn’t go home and tattle, and if you think that Archdeacon Miles doesn’t already know where you guys are, you’re mistaken. He’s two steps ahead of you, and this… this thing is the least of your worries.”
She didn’t know why she was sticking up for it. She had no idea. It was for the best that it would die.
“Still,” the orange man said as her new “husband” walked forward to pick her up, “we can’t very well let him go out and about now. He’s got too much knowledge.”
“I’m not saying you should let him go. He needs to be dead.”
There was a merciless laugh from the orange man.
“But I am saying that Archdeacon Miles will invade this place if you kill his son. He’ll wipe you all out before you can even blink. He’s got more power than you know. Trust me: you want to let him walk free.”