| �Second Chances�
By Christy Chapter 12 Ten weeks passed. Esmeralda and Phoebus left for their honeymoon: a honeymoon that was not originally supposed to happen, but Minerva�s generous offer to keep Phoebus�s boardinghouse room while they were gone and her donations to pay for the trip made it possible. The couple suspected that she was really doing it so she could spend more time with Quasimodo, but they would not say so out loud. If they could see what was happening while they were gone, their suspicions would have been confirmed. Practically all of Minerva�s time was spent with Quasimodo. The bond between them that had budded before the wedding was now erupting in bloom. �QuasiMOdo,� Minerva said one morning, in a voice that was unusually perky even for her. �What?� asked Quasimodo. �Take a look at this,� Minerva said as she reached into her pocket, pulled out a piece of paper, and placed it on the table. Quasimodo�s eyes widened as he looked at the paper. It was a deed. �I�ve bought the lovebirds a house,� Minerva announced. The bell-ringer stared at the deed with amazed eyes. �How....how did you afford this?� �Dressmaking isn�t exactly a destitute profession,� said Minerva. Quasimodo ran his finger down the edges of the paper, stopping abruptly when felt his finger brushing against wood - the wood of his unfinished figure. He discreetly pushed the piece of wood that wanted to be a figure behind a building, hoping Minerva wouldn�t notice his action and ask who that figure was going to be. �Have you ever thought of moving out of here, Quasi?� Minerva said. Quasimodo looked back up at her. �What?� �Have your ever thought about leaving this tower?� Minerva repeated. �I mean, you�re not a prisoner here anymore. Why do you want to stay in the place where Frollo kept you?� Quasimodo wrung his hands together. �Well....it�s hard to explain.� �Try,� urged Minerva. Quasimodo glanced down at the figure of himself, settled in the miniature belltower. �Esmeralda invited me to come live with the gypsies once. At first I was exhilarated at the idea of living somewhere else, a place Frollo had forbidden. So I tried it, but.....it didn�t work out.� �What do you mean?� asked Minerva. Quasimodo fiddled with the figure. �There were too many people. I thought living among a large crowd would be great after so many years of living alone, but the opposite turned out to be true.� �How so?� �I could never find time for myself,� Quasimdo explained. �With people always around me, I felt....confined, more confined than here. I couldn�t go anywhere to sort out my thoughts in silence. Nowhere to think...nowhere to create. I was too accustomed to having plenty of time for myself, so I moved back here.� He expected Minerva to press the idea further, to ask more questions, but instead she gave one of those face-bending smiles. �I understand, Quasi,� she said. �I imagine the gypsy community would be very overwhelming if one wasn�t used to it.� Quasimodo found himself on edge for a few moments, waiting for Minerva to accuse him of still being loyal to Frollo as Esmeralda had, but nothing came, only the continuing smile, the sign that she truly did understand why he had returned to the belltower. �Well anyway,� said Quasimodo, �would you like to go for a walk? Maybe you can show me that house.� �Of course, Quasi,� said Minerva. In the dark corners of the Palace of Justice, the judge sat hunched over his desk, a nearly-empty wine bottle near one hand, a stack of papers piled underneath the other. His eyes were wrinkled from long hours of studying his brother�s records: his red-streaked eyeballs now slowly moving across a rather intriguing case of two disappearances: two people who vanished at the same time, one later found, the other never recovered. �Minister Frollo, sir.� Jehan wearily looked up, his drunk eyes blinking a few times before he recognized the figure standing next to him as his Captain of the Guard. �Sir?� he said again. �Are you all right?� �What do you want?� Jehan slurred. �Sir,� the captain said, �I have something that might interest you.� �What would interest me is proof,� the minister said in a growling voice. The captain swallowed. �Sir, you know as well as I that proof is impossible. The only ones on the roof at the time of your brother�s death were the bell-ringer, the gypsy girl, and your brother.� Jehan cursed. If only he could find a reason to arrest them without proof. If only he had the courage that his brother had....the courage that had led to rebellion against him. No....unless he wanted to meet his brother�s fate, he couldn�t risk arresting them without evidence against them. They were too well-liked by the people. �Sir?� the captain said again. �Do you want to hear what I have to say?� Jehan gripped his head to steady his nausea. �Go ahead.� �Well, as you are no doubt aware, the gypsy woman has married the previous Captain of the Guard...� �Yes, yes,� Jehan said in a frustrated voice. �And the two of them are currently on honeymoon...� �Yes, get on with it.� �Well sir,� the Captain said with a gulp, �I have discovered the identity of the woman who is occupying the former Captain�s room in the boardinghouse...� As the sun was setting, Minerva returned to the boardinghouse in good spirits. Her walk was halfway between a walk and a skip, for the thoughts of Quasimodo seemed to push her body into little jumps. She couldn�t even tell exactly what it was that he had done today to put her in such a good mood: any attempt to do so would only point to the bell-ringer. Her mood abruptly shifted, however, when she reached Phoebus�s room. A pair of soldiers stood in front of the door, looking like they were waiting for her. �May I help you?� Minerva asked, trying to keep her voice calm. The taller guard sneered. �Are you Minerva de Chateaupers�?� he said in a rough voice. An warning sounded in Minerva�s head. Stay calm, she thought. After all, this might simply be an interrogation about why she had been living in the room belonging to Phoebus - if that were the case, she would simply need to explain the situation and be let off. �Yes, I am,� she said in a soft voice. The shorter soldier slapped his large hand onto her arm. �Then you can help us by coming quietly.� Minerva slid her fingers under his bulky hand and attempted to push it off of her arm. �I�ll have you know that the normal resident of this room is my brother and I am staying here with his permission. If you don�t believe me, you can ask him when he returns from his honeymoon.� The other soldier slapped his hand onto her other arm. �You really think that�s the reason we�re here?� he scoffed, drops of spittle leaking out of his mouth and onto her skin. He and his companion began laughing loudly, as if she was a private joke among them. Minerva gave as hard a swallow as her throat could handle. Stay calm, she reminded herself. �Well I can�t imagine any other reason why you would be here, unless it is usually acceptable for soldiers to just grab random women from boardinghouses.� �You�re not just a random woman,� the taller soldier said, running his gloved fingers through her hair. �If you�re looking for pleasure, you won�t get it from me � Minerva spat. �Oh, we�ve got enough pleasure simply by finding the young lady who disappeared ten years ago,� the shorter soldier crooned. �After her little deeds.� Stay calm, stay calm, stay clam....those words were being muted by a cold rush through her veins, soon replaced by another word of advice that was making far more sense. Run Old reflexes were stimulated, causing her feet to slam her shoes� sharp heals into the soldiers� boots, which relaxed their grip on her for the few seconds that she needed in order to break into a sprint faster than she had experienced for a long time. �Come back here � the soldiers shouted after her. Minerva gave no head to their call. All she could comprehend at the moment was the screaming voice in her head. Run Notre Dame�s hall had never looked more beautiful to Minerva�s eyes than when she rushed through the door into the safe haven. Her breath came out in quick pants as she gripped her chest, feeling her heart�s rapid beating. It would only be a matter of minutes before the soldiers got here, and whether or not they would heed the laws of sanctuary was uncertain. She scurried down the hall, thinking feebly that she might be able to hide away and make the soldiers think they had lost her, but the sound of the door flying open behind her quickly eliminated that hope. She whirled her body around to face the soldiers advancing on her. �Sanctuary � she quickly called. �I claim sanctuary.� The soldiers continued to walk towards her, looking like they were about to burst out laughing again. �Oh, do you?� the taller soldier said, clutching a dagger in his hand. Stay calm....stay calm....they can�t do anything to you here. Minerva forced herself to keep her voice steady and forceful as she inched backwards. �You know perfectly well that violating the sacred law of sanctuary is what brought down the previous Minister of Justice and ended the lives of many of you soldiers.� �Only because he didn�t do something to that gypsy girl at the very beginning,� said the shorter soldier. �He didn�t drag her out of the cathedral.� Now it was Minerva�s turn to have a brief look of mirth on her face. �I outran you in the street - I can outrun you here,� she said loudly, hoping someone from the church would hear her. �And once the churchmen see you, you�ll be forced to leave.� �Oh really?� the tall soldier said with a wicked sneer. �Well what if you....can�t walk?� Minerva�s backwards footsteps scurried with the frantic pace of a rabbit running from a predator, finding within a few seconds that her back was now pasted against a wall with the shorter soldier grabbing her while the taller soldier advanced on her, dagger in hand, its fine point heading towards her leg. Her dodging reaction wasn�t quick enough - the dagger found its mark, plunging itself deep into her leg. For a split-second, she felt nothing, not physically in her leg nor inside her head. Daze overtook her, then once it had its second of glory, it left her. She felt the cold metal digging underneath her skin, her warm blood running down her leg, the pain.....the awful pain taking over her senses. Gravity pulled her down and the dizzying pain held her there, putting her at the mercy of the soldiers. Her blurry mind was dimly aware of them grabbing her by the shoulders....taking her....they were going to forcibly remove her from the sanctuary. That thought gave her enough consciousness to use the last weapon she still had. She screamed. A long, loud, blood-curdling scream exited her mouth. One of the soldiers pressed his hand between her lips, but too late - the scream had been heard. �LET GO OF HER THIS INSTANT � a booming voice shouted. The oppressors and the victim all looked up to see the Archdeacon stomping towards them, his eyebrows down, his face wearing a furious expression. �Y-Your Eminence,� the tall soldier stuttered. �This is a criminal, and we are...� �You know this is the House of God � the Archdeacon bellowed, grabbing both of the soldiers by the arm. �All who seek out sanctuary here are granted it.� He pulled the soldiers away from Minerva with mighty force. �Now leave here this instant.� �Yes, Your Eminence,� the short soldier said through his teeth while the tall soldier sent an icy glare down at Minerva. �This isn�t over,� he hissed. After the soldiers left, the Archdeacon knelt down the Minerva�s level. �My child, are you all right?� he said in a kindly voice. �N-n-n-no...� Minerva struggled to say through gasping breaths. The Archdeacon gazed sadly at the gash in Minerva�s leg and the puddle of blood that was forming beneath it. �I....I wish I knew how to treat this.� Minerva breathed frantically and swallowed several times before she was able to find her voice. �Th-th-the.....the bell-ringer can....� she whispered. �What?� asked the Archdeacon. Minerva�s tingling hand grasped the Archdeacon�s robe in desperation as she gasped out her words. �P-p-please.....get......Quasimodo.....� NEW! Go to Chapter 13 Back to Fanfic Back to Index |