“Tell me about it.”
“With pleasure,” Albertus said. “This fellow’s name was Phillipe, and he lived in a village not far from here. Handsome indeed he was, far handsomer than a young fellow had any right to be. Everything came easy for him, and the more he got, the more he wanted, and the less satisfied he became. One day he beheld Miranda, daughter of a wealthy man hereabouts. She was just fifteen at this time, and beautiful as dawn upon the mountain. Delicate and pure she was, and she had planned to live her life in utmost purity, aspiring only to do good.
“Having seen her, Phillipe became inflamed of her, and though it is said he was a coward, he aspired still to winning her. One day Phillipe climbed the wall around her father’s house and went into the churning room and spoke to her. Miranda had been raised in isolation, and had never seen a man like this. Everyone in her father’s household was old except for her three brothers, and they were away fighting in one war or another.
“Phillipe seduced her with sweet words and impassioned tales of his own trials. Miranda was softhearted, and she was greatly moved to learn that he was sickly and apt to live but a little while longer. A lie, so he thought, but a prophecy as it turned out! He feigned a fainting spell, and she let him put his arm around her to support himself. They touched. And so one thing led to another.
“It is a tale often told, alas. In brief, he seduced her, and she ran away with him, for he swore that he would take care of her. But when they came to the first large city, Civalle in Provence, Phillipe abandoned her and went his own way.
“Alone, Miranda had a desperate time of it until she became the model for the painter Chodlos. She lived with him for some months as his mistress and they seemed happy enough. Chodlos was a big bear of a man, but not strong despite his size. He was always jolly, though too much given to drink. He painted his famous Magdalene with Miranda as his model. He could have been truly great. But before the year was out, he was dead, his head broken in a tavern brawl.
“Miranda was heartbroken, because she had loved the painter. Chodlos’ creditors took away all the furniture and his paintings, and turned Miranda out of the apartment. She had no money and no place to go. Finally, as the only alternative to starvation, she went to work in a brothel. But bad luck was not through with her yet. One night a madman came to the brothel. No one knows what transpired between him and Miranda; but before anyone could stop him, he had put out her eyes, and then cut her throat.
“Hearing of this, her brothers, Ansel, Chor, and Hald, came to the city for revenge. The madman was already dead, torn to pieces by a mob. The brothers found Phillipe drinking in a tavern with a new light o’ love. They bent him back over a table, told him he would die as Miranda had died. Then they tore his eyes out and cut his throat. That is the history of the head that you here behold.”
“It’s actually a very nice head,” Azzie said, lifting the head and looking into its ruined eye sockets. “Now what I need is a matching female head. This Miranda. A madman killed her, eh? Master Albertus, do you know what happened to her body? And most especially, her head?”
“Alas, I know not,” said Albertus.
“You have helped me greatly,” Azzie said. “Name your price for this head.”
Chapter 1
“Master, look at this.”
It was the fourth head Frike had brought in that week. This one was a dark-tressed lady who still looked pretty good, especially if you could repair her nose, which the worms had gotten at.
“No, Frike, it won’t do.” Azzie sighed and turned away.
“But why, lord? She’s perfect!”
“There’s only one who could be considered perfect.”
“Who is that, lord?”
“Frike, the perfect accompaniment to our Prince Charming will be Miranda, the girl Phillipe seduced.”