The Haunted Traveler Vol. 1 Issue 1

47
ued Fero spoke in perfect time with him, but in a very high
register, “cannot purely be a matter of conscience. We would
appreciate your guidance, Sire.”
Hearing these solemn words duplicated by a falsetto Fero
puzzled the Court.
“What means this?” demanded the king, his brows thundering.
“Please your majesty, please your majesty,” said Fero.
“These fellows are at play, ‘tis a play. For last night I heard
them rehearsing these speeches word for word, rehearsing
every word! Yet it is a bad play, a bad play, your majesty.”
“Yes, a very bad play,” agreed the king, his eyes daggers,
and he gestured for his guards to take away the now pale and
sweating nobles.
“A bad play,” repeated Fero. “For how could it be a good
play, with no pretty ladies in it?”
And the Court fell about laughing, including the king, and
dinner carried on.
Of course Fero made powerful and important enemies this
way. Like many before and since, he trusted too far in the
love and honour of royalty, believing that he would be protected
as long as he tried to please and was faithful.
The move against him was carefully calculated. A prominent
family, one member of whom had been damaged by Fero’s
capers, groomed a young and pliable daughter, prepared
some witnesses, and waited.
The girl, who looked an artless child but had been brought
up a wily pawn, had already been the mistress of a bishop
and a cousin of the king. She was presented at Court, where
the king’s eye rested on her with some interest. She played
the ingénue, shyly drawing her mantle around her (and thus
showing off her exquisite shoulders) as she curtseyed, her
eyes on the floor.
“You have nothing to fear,” said the king kindly, wanting
to see if her eyes were as charming as the rest of her. “I would
have you look at me, my lady.”