The Tarot dream
There's a group of about 20 young people, men and women, with 17th century clothes in a Rennaissance looking palace. They're in a meeting in the upper floor (out to two). They all wear court clothes. I'm one of the guys.
We are starting a class on the Tarot and similar stuff. It's a secret and very serious thing. The teacher's a guy as young as us (20 something). We are given the books: a new, heavy book with red leather covers for each of us. We are supposed to hide them.
Then someone knocks on the door. It's the police*. We're screwed, going to be in jail for years and years, or forever, since the king isn't likely to listen or bail us out.
I think of getting rid of the book, but it's impossible. There's no way out, and if they found the book in my chambers I'd be just as screwed. Have others put their names on their books? I haven't, but it's all the same.
I think of going out by the window. Will I be caught like that, holding onto a column outside the window? Then I remember jail and do go out by the window. I climb to the roof, and as I do it, I reflect upon the fact that the facade I'm climbing has a painted medallion with heretical content. It's there for the world to see but no one has noticed.
I walk on the domed roof and climb down the other side of the palace. I walk through the gardens to the forest without being spotted by the guards. I'm hoping not to get lost. I only know that the border's in straight line form the palace. I walk for days, maybe five, till I reach a field where a peasant's working. His boss is close by. I go to the boss, ask for food and water and tell him that I can work.
There is a wedding at the palace. Some of the detainees are attending, others are in jail. Two of them are getting married on kings orders. The king is there, with a lot of nobles. The room is crammed with people. The bride is in a black dress.
A police officer comes and tells the king there are traces that go from the gentlemen's quarters to the ladies'. It is somehow assumed that the groom has slept with the bride, although he hasn't. The wedding is as good as off, they're dishonored. They kneel.
The ex-detainees in the crowd are worried, but they know that the traces actually mean a guy and a girl have escaped the imprisonment. They don't know who, so the groom asks "what color were my clothes?" He thinks it may have been one of his friends. That friend has a portrait in which he's wearing a mustard colored coat.
I gather I was the guy in the portrait. Could I have been wearing a coat of a particular color to give a message to my friends in case I was seen? The groom was taking the blame not to reveal some of the participants had escaped.
*Oops. The police, not the Inquisition, sorry about that. Although the Inquisition must have been pretty close.