“You’d say anything to share my bed with me, wouldn’t you?” the woman asked Giacomo. She was beautiful and tall; her thick, raven hair spilled across the fine linens of the bed.

“That is not true; I would not say anything.” Giacomo said, kissing her cheek, as his hands undid the lacing on her bodice. Her perfumed body and clothes were a treat to his senses. The rich always seemed to smell nicer than the poor. It was a lesson that his travels had only served to reinforce.

She had come to his notice earlier in the evening. He was – as was his norm – singing for his supper and room. His voice always seemed to call patrons into the establishment where he was performing. She entered with her maid and sat in a corner, her face hidden in the folds of a midnight hood. But, he could see her eyes.

As the bard continued to sing and play, he felt the weight of her attention and he returned her attention. Singing songs to her: telling stories designed to elicit a racing heart and short, stabbing breaths. He sang songs that made her want to dance; but her pride kept her feet on the floor – despite many a young man’s offer. He watched her desire build as her head moved to the music.

As he finished, he let her watch him leave the tavern; knowing that she would follow. They had spoken briefly outside, in-front of her carriage. She spoke of a long-dead husband, who had never really spent any time with her – always gone on some business or another; he listened, assuring her that all would be well. Assuring her that she was wronged to be so alone; that she would be righted in the company of another.

They lay together and woke in the warmth of the morning sun. “You must leave before someone sees you, my love.” She said to him.

Giacomo smiled and held her body next to his. “I must, as you say; but, will you not let me stay ... a while longer?”

“Oh yes!” She said with the enthusiasm of a new bride.

“Maria!” A man’s voice bellowed from the downstairs of the house. “I have returned!”

“My husband.” She confessed in a voice that betrayed fear and surprise. “He was not due for another week.”

“Maria, my darling! Such treasures I have found for you.” The voice boom again.

“Your husband.” Giacomo said, surprised, his voice somewhat tighter than it had been a moment before. “Rather less dead than you led me to believe.”

“Darling!” She yelled to her husband, “I shall be down momentarily to greet you.” She grabbed the minstrel’s arm as he was climbing out of her bed, “Oh, please forgive me; you were a morsel that I craved to have.” She kissed him. “Hurry. Hurry! He’ll be gone again in a few days and you can return to my bed.”

Giacomo, escaped her embrace and pulled on his pants and boots; grabbing everything else he had brought with him, “Good madam; now is not the time to speak of return engagements; now is the time for leaving with one’s head attached.”

“Yes – yes – yes.” Maria said, “There’s a passage there, it will lead you out into the garden.” She pointed to a tapestry on the south wall.

Without stealing another glance, Giacomo stole away.

-- END --

Also, attached is Giacomo's body cast.