An hour and a half later, they were in Naumburg. This was the end of the line for now, so they hired coaches and continued on to Halle, where they would spend the night.
They had reserved the following day for seeing the sights, and playing tennis. The next morning, they would board the barge to Magdeburg, another fifty-odd miles away. It would be slow, even though they were traveling with the current, but the girls weren't accustomed to riding long distances.
"This place is really gloomy looking," Vicky said. The walls and ceiling of the tennis court were painted a solid black. Nor did the flagstone floor do much to cheer up the look. "Is this a home for Goths?"
Hobbes looked puzzled. "The Goths? Well, they are a Germanic tribe, and we are in Germany, but I don't think they played tennis. At least, I don't recall any reference to it in Jordanes' Getica."
"She means, why all the black?" said Gabrielle.
"Oh. To make it easier to see the ball, which is white."
"Why not whitewash the walls, and use a black ball?"
"They do that in Spain, but nowhere else in Europe."
"They don't have very good architects here in Halle, do they?"
"Why do you say that?"
"There's a kink in that wall, the one without the penthouses."
"That's the tambour, the 'drum.' You see how at the kink, there's an angled face? If the ball hits that, it's 'pinball time.' "
William suggested that they watch others play first, then take their turn.
Two young gentlemen did some practice volleying, and then began the game in earnest. The server cried "tenez!", and his opponent responded "Oui!"
"So that's where tennis gets its name," said Heather. "But what does 'tenez' mean?"
William smiled. "It means, 'take this!' " The girls laughed.
They were seated in the dedans, the gallery behind the service side of the court. William had told them that it was one of the three winning openings. The first serve sailed up into the air, and skipped several times along the service penthouse. Were that not enough, it rounded the corner, striking the penthouse behind the receiver, before it finally landed. The ball was returned after the first bounce.
"Was that a good serve?"
"Oh, yes. The receiving player has to just wait patiently for it to come down. The Spanish even have a saying, aun esta la pelota en el tejado, 'the ball is still on the roof.' They say it when something is not yet decided."
Suddenly, the receiver swatted the ball over the net and into the main wall. It bounced off and flew straight toward the girls in the dedans. They flinched involuntarily, but the ball was caught by the net hung in front of them.
The impact rang a bell. "Fifteen-love," the marker intoned.
"So if this dedans is the winning opening for the receiver, where's the one for the server?"
"There are two, actually. If you look at the far wall, behind the receiver, you see that it's blank except for a small hole on our right."
"I see it."
"That's the grille. In the old monasteries, the monks went to that opening to talk to outsiders."
"To order a hamburger?" asked John.
Derrick offered John a high five. "Good one!"
Gabrielle tapped the side of her head with a finger. "I'm glad someone thinks John's funny."
"Besides the grille, the server can also score outright by placing a shot into the 'winning gallery.' That's the last of the eight openings under the service side penthouse, the farthest one from us."
"What happens if you hit the ball into one of the other seven?"
"That creates a chase, just as if you had a double bounce on the parallel part of the floor."
Eventually, the players finished their four-game set, waved to the spectators, and walked off.
William approached the marker, who happily accepted the fee for two hours of court time, and supplied William with rackets and balls. However, when the girls came onto the playing floor, he balked. Until William produced more money, which magically vanished into the marker's clothing.
Judy had watched the negotiation. "It's kinda annoying that you can't play this game without a referee to mark the chases."
William shrugged. "Before they used markers, there were many fights."
William had them first just hit the ball back and forth. They needed to get used to the balls and rackets, both different from the modern ones. He encouraged them to cut under the ball, so it would drop sharply at the end of its trajectory.
Then he had them try different kinds of serves. While this was going on, the master of the court, the ballmeister, arrived.
"What's going on here? Why are there women on my court?"
Their marker rose to the defense-of himself. "Women? Here?" He turned to Hobbes. "I am shocked, shocked, that you would bring women here. You dressed them in men's clothing to trick me. I am most disturbed."
"I'm willing to pay a suitable fee for the privilege of playing here with these gentlewomen," said William.
This offer didn't diminish the ballmeister's agitation. "This is a house for the royal game of tennis, not for the entertainment of doxies!"
William bristled. Hobbes carefully stepped on his foot. "I don't understand your objection, my dear ballmeister," said Hobbes. "Women play in Udine, the chief town of the Friuli. And in Ferrara."
"Well, let them go to Udine, or Ferrara, then, but they shall not, no, they shall not, play here." He shook his tennis racket in a threatening manner.
Hobbes decided to try a different tack. "They are the guests of this young gentleman, who is the earl of Devonshire. What you would call a count. That makes him one of the British Hochadel. Do you really wish to offend him?"
"You and he are welcome to play. Just not the women."
"I won't play if you won't allow my friends to play," William said. "And consider this: The father of one of the young ladies is the Secretary of the Treasury of the CPE, and a confidante of Gustavus Adolphus."
"I care not a fig. Get out, or I will have you dragged out."
William put his hand to his hip, reaching for the sword that wasn't there.
Judy saw the gesture. "It's too hot to play, anyway. Let's get some fresh air." She looked at the other girls. They took their cue, and agreed with her.
Once they were outside, of course, they were quick to vent their spleen. "I can't believe that in Halle, which gets so much business from Grantville, someone could be so obtuse."
"Don't forget that this kind of tennis isn't known to any up-timers, save us. The creep probably doesn't have much contact with people from Grantville."
Judy looked at William. "Are you disappointed? You said that tennis courts were rare in this part of Europe."
William shrugged. "As Vicky said, it was too gloomy in there. Don't worry about it."
"I wish there was a royal tennis court in Grantville. That would serve him right."
The barge ride down to Magdeburg was picturesque, Judy supposed. Meaning, boring after the first hour. With the day a balmy one, Judy dozed off. And found herself dreaming about William. More specifically, dreaming about kissing William.
She awoke with a guilty start, and saw Hobbes and William playing a game of chess, with Heather watching.
Good thing Heather doesn't have telepathic powers, Judy thought. Or I might be swimming right now.
Judy had thought that she just wanted a guy who was smart, and could make her laugh, she didn't care how handsome he was. Okay, now she had to admit, looking like a young Brad Pitt was a plus.
William had stood up for the girls in Halle, even though, let's face it, he'd never heard of women's lib. Of course, from what Judy had heard about his mom, he probably thought there was more of a need for men's lib. But still, Judy had been pleased by his actions.
And he did have, for lack of a better term, a curious turn of mind. Judy wouldn't have thought of descending by rope into Mount Vesuvius, that's for sure. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, Judy hadn't decided.
Okay, she admitted, maybe she was interested in William. And Heather had had a fair shot at him.