Harlequin's Riddle

Chapter 1 - The Players Arrive-3

Outside, rain pelted down, washing the village away. At least tomorrow the air would be clear, the smell of fish gone for a brief time. Mina ate her dinner without enthusiasm. She was aware of Mama watching her throughout the meal. Papa, oblivious to the turmoil inside his daughter, spoke loudly of his day in the orchards and the troubles with the new barrow boy who sold their fruit for them. As always, nothing quelled him expressing his disapproval of whatever was in his vicinity, not even the storm that whipped against the windows. Mina might as well have been invisible. After dinner she and Mama washed the dishes together, and she whispered of the players to her mother, though she need not have been careful. In full fury now, the storm drowned their conversation.

Mina struggled to sleep that night, her thoughts in turmoil, the air heavy, thunder and lightning dancing their dangerous duet outside. When she finally drifted off, strange dreams gripped her. Autumn leaves in brown, yellow, red and green drifted down before her, changing shape until they became diamonds, falling to the ground around a man with a carved leather face that shifted and melted, sinking into seething shadows. When the shadows cleared, she saw her brother Paolo sitting with his feet in the fountain, looking sad, yet bathed in myriad rainbows from the droplets that fell around him. A young woman stood behind him, with long black hair and vivid green eyes, her hand reaching for him. When she touched him, they both broke apart, like clouds in a sudden wind, and were gone. Mina became aware of another figure facing the fountain, his back to her. He turned and faced her, and it was Uncle Tonio, but not as she had last seen him. He was tall and young, his hair not white but the glowing golden-brown of honey, like Mina’s. As the water of the fountain fell behind him, he too was bathed in a rainbow, perfect and pure. His voice was strong.

‘My little Mina. It’s time to fly, little dove. You have a rare gift that was lost but waits to be unlocked again. There is a great hurt that must be healed. It is your destiny to heal it. But don’t be tempted to dream of being other than you are, for that way lies danger. Step into the world and be your wonderful self, and it will bring light to many.’

Uncle Tonio shone with a radiance so bright Mina shut her eyes tight. When she opened them, she was lying in her own bed. Dawn light was just beginning to creep over the windowsill and into the room. Outside, the world was washed clean. It would be a beautiful day. Inside Mina, the storm continued. Today was her only chance. The players would be gone in hours.

She sat up, exhausted. Her confused dream was fading too fast for her to grasp it, but what there had been in it was important to the decision she had to make. A name lingered on her tongue … Miranda. The girl with black hair and green eyes. Who was she? The details were slipping away, trapped in the moment before Mina woke. All she remembered now was a feeling of warmth that almost quelled the rising panic within. The feeling stayed with her as she went down to the kitchen. Though it was still dark, Mama was already pulling hot rolls out of the oven. She set two in front of Mina with a soft ‘good morning’. Mina watched her mother limping between the oven and the table.

‘Was there someone called Miranda, Mama? A long time ago?’

Mama turned sharply. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I dreamed about her last night. In the dream, she took Paolo away.’

‘She was with the players, when Paolo left with them.’ Mama began scrubbing the table. Her lips were pressed together so hard they were colourless.

Mina changed the subject. ‘What was Tonio like, Mama? Before the fire?’

Mama stopped her scrubbing, turned to Mina and smiled. ‘He was a good man. Everyone looked up to him.’

‘It’s so sad he ended up how he did. Things could have been so different.’

Mama hobbled to the stove, poured a hot coffee for her daughter and herself, and sat down. ‘Your uncle has had a good life, sweetheart, and a lot of it is because of you. He loves you so much.’

Mama looked away, and was silent for a long while, sipping her coffee. Finally she put the mug down and sighed.

‘You’ve cared for your uncle so well. Now it’s time you thought about the future, Mina.’ She fell silent for what felt like an eternity, then spoke again. There was steel in her voice now. ‘I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. I made a promise once. But … I was selfish. I needed your help. Mina, it’s time you left Andon.’

Mina set her cup down abruptly. Coffee spilled across the white tablecloth. ‘Promised who?’

‘Your brother.’

As it had the day before, a long forgotten memory broke open in Mina’s head. She heard her brother’s voice as he knelt in front of her, one hand on her cheek.

‘My little sister. My little dove. With your storytelling you could become a player too. I’ll come back for you, I promise. And I always keep my promises, eh? Wait here, by the fountain, when you see the blossoms on the trees. Listen for the players’ bells. It may be a few years. There are so many towns and cities to visit. But I will come back. And you’d better be ready! You heard Mama promise. You can come with me to see the world!’

Mina shook off the memory and laughed bitterly. ‘My brother! I used to think he kept his promises. But he didn’t, not when it mattered. He said he’d return.’

She reached for the butter and smeared some fiercely on her warm bread roll. She tried to dismiss her mother’s words, but inside, a spark of hope had been lit.

‘Mina,’ Mama said, her words hesitant, ‘I don’t think Paolo meant to break his promise to you. I think he would have come back if he could. The players returned a few years after Paolo left. It was when you had the scarlet fever. Your father went to see him. To try and make things up. They had such a terrible argument when Paolo left. But Paolo wasn’t with them. They wouldn’t tell us what happened to him. We should have told you.’

Mina stared at her mother. She had spent years thinking her beloved brother had abandoned her. When she was little, Paolo had never broken a promise to his little dove. Not until his last, most important one. Yet now her mother was saying he hadn’t broken it.

‘Why didn’t you ever tell me?’ she demanded. ‘I always thought … I thought he didn’t want to come back, that he didn’t love me.’

A knot inside her untwisted, causing tears to run fast and warm down her cheeks and into her coffee. Her body shook with pain that had been held in check for years. Mama hobbled over and held her.

As she sobbed, Mina realised she still longed to see her brother, though she had locked that wish away for so many years because of her anger at his abandonment. Paolo had always made her feel special, listening to her stories. She remembered that she had loved to tell stories, but she didn’t remember why, or what that love had felt like. Sometimes she felt an ache inside her that she thought might be connected to her missing stories, but it hurt less not to remember. After Paolo left, all the stories had stopped. She wondered now if finding her brother and finding her stories might be connected.

They sat holding each other. Mina was a child again, safe in the arms of her mother, and it was enough. After a while though, a tiny voice of hope began whispering inside Mina. She told her mother about the player’s offer.

‘No. Not players.’ Mama’s response was abrupt, her voice firm. Mina looked down, defeated, and entirely missed the flash of fear that crossed her mother’s face.

‘I have family in Clusone,’ Mama continued. ‘If you travel there, you could seek an apprenticeship with a story teller. Do you remember telling stories when you were little?’

Mina looked up at her mother in surprise. ‘I’d mostly forgotten. But I’m starting to remember now.’

‘Paolo told me your stories were special. We can arrange for you to travel to Clusone with one of the villagers. Just not with the players.’

A c**k crowed, covering the first faint sounds from the waking world. An instant later, in the gentle dawn hush, bells tinkled over the clopping of horses. The players were leaving. Unexpected panic grabbed Mina’s throat. She stood up, and pulled her mother up to stand beside her, clutching her hands.

‘If I travel with the players, I may find out what happened to Paolo, or at least find some clue. Then when I travel as a story teller’s apprentice, I can look for him.’

The players’ bells rang out again. Mama took a step back, stumbling on her bad leg.

‘You have always been strong, Mina. Stronger than Paolo, despite his bravado. Maybe you could find him, bring him home.’

‘I have to do this, Mama.’

As she spoke the words, Mina knew they were true. The storm of indecision and the panic inside her died away. There was no decision to be made. It was already done.

‘Okay, travel with the players. But only to begin. I’ll talk to your father,’ Mama said. ‘You go pack.’ She patted Mina’s hand. ‘I’ll convince him.’

She passed Mina a calico bag from one of the kitchen dresser drawers. Mina hurried up to her room and began bundling her few chemises and overdresses into the bag. Mama joined her a few minutes later and nodded to her daughter. Mina felt her breathing start again. She had expected Papa to refuse.

It was Mama who opened the dowry chest at the end of Mina’s bed and took out a small, faded pouch, its shimmer long gone. A few beads hung on loose threads.

‘You should take this,’ she said.

Mina took the pouch from her mother and touched the beads. This had once been so precious to her, a tangible connection to Paolo. She had carried it everywhere. Now its familiarity had become strange. As she held it, another memory came back to her. Miranda … The girl from her dream, the girl with black hair, who had smiled at Paolo and lured him away. She had given Mina this fabric. A scrap in exchange for a brother. Mina dropped the pouch into her bag.

The sound of piping music drifted through the window. Mina leaned on the windowsill, seeing the players’ wagon drawing to a halt once more in the distant square. There was a place worn smooth in the window’s wooden frame where she had sat, as a child, straining to see beyond the twisted laneways and white buildings to the town square. She had spent hours sitting here, waiting for Paolo with the unconditional adoration of a child, wondering what he was doing.

‘Do you think the players will take me, Mama?’ Mina asked, looking back into the room. Mama shrugged.

Occasionally, over the years, Mina had heard people in the town talk about players. Unlike story tellers, they weren’t regarded with reverence. Their entertainment was more mundane, although in some ways the townsfolk loved it more because all the pratfalls and crude jokes made them laugh. Mina didn’t know anything about playing. She could see Mama was still fearful, and it made her nervous. She straightened her shoulders.

‘It’s my best chance to find Paolo.’

‘I know,’ Mama replied. ‘Just … be wary. We don’t know what happened to your brother, why he left them. What … happened to him. Maybe … just be wary. And don’t stay with them if you’re not finding answers. You can write. If you need to, use that to earn coin to travel with. People need letters written, or read. But never travel alone. The roads are too dangerous.’

She held her daughter tight.

‘My other chemise is on the washing line,’ Mina remembered, and hurried from the room, leaving her mother standing alone. She looked back once. Mama stumbled backward, hand reaching, and sat heavily on Mina’s bed, rubbing her bad leg.

~

Uncle Tonio was in the yard, squatting to watch a line of ants marching away. He looked frail, his cheekbones protruding and his eyes deeply shadowed. Mina realised she would have to tell him she was leaving. She squatted down next to him.