The Tales of Tarya, Books 1-3

Chapter 11 - Council Intervenes-1

Council IntervenesAfter the feast, Gianni and his family drew Mina and Dario out into the teeming streets of the grand city. High in a sky as blue as a summer sea, the sun glared down. Just around the corner from their house, they passed an inn called the Masque and Music, its sign showing a player’s mask and a wooden flute. People spilled out onto the street from within, laughing loudly. The riotous inn crowd began clapping and broke into an impromptu dance, bumping into market barrows allowed to ply their wares outside of the market area for this special festival. Hawkers called out, luring people to barter with passionate enjoyment.

No artisans performed; today their role was to observe. It was a day for life, not art, yet the intensity of life created its own drama. Everyone dressed in their best and brightest. Banners flew from every window and smeared trails of colour across the brilliant blue sky, the effect of the Visionnaire.

A cloud of scents swirled over the market place: fresh fruits sweet as incense; pungent, enticing meats and cheeses; the warm, full scent of bread. Even without artisans, music filled the air, an orchestral cacophony of voices overlaid with trills of laughter. Real music broke through the melodious market sounds as here or there an emboldened amateur raised their voice in song.

Everyone spoke to the players and no one expected a reply. Mina heard story after story, snippets of people’s lives, whatever they decided to share. They were so open with her, talking of their hopes, their children, their past. Rich material for playing. The stuff of life.

Sunset brought a new symphony of wonder. As one, the artisans looked to the sky, absorbed in washes of scarlet and pink and orange, made more marvellous by the Visionnaire. The citizens of Aurea fell silent. The colours of the sunset pulsed with the life breath of the multitude.

Then, for Mina, everything changed in an instant, like a candle snuffed out. The glowing colours vanished, leaving a beautiful sunset that was no longer alive, and the ragged, disconnected breathing of a crowd of strangers. Loss overwhelmed her.

Gianni took Mina’s arm then. ‘Your visions have ended, haven’t they?’ he asked.

Mina nodded. ‘How do you know?’

‘You’ve come back. Your eyes are … different. It’s hard to explain. We see this every time. We know.’

Dario took Mina’s other arm. ‘Hello,’ he said, and leaned down to kiss her.

‘Time to deliver you to the palace,’ Gianni said. ‘I imagine you’re tired.’

And suddenly Mina was. She hadn’t slept for two days. An incredible weight pressed on her shoulders and eyelids.

Gianni and his family quickly led Mina and Dario back to the palace. The streets of Aurea now seemed familiar to Mina after the day’s wandering, yet she had no sense of how any of the city connected. Under the influence of the Visionnaire she hadn’t really seen what was around her.

At the palace the entire family bade a noisy farewell to the pair of players. Though the front entrance to the palace was open, and tired artisans straggled in, Dario led Mina to the entrance near the stables and the stairs to the artisan quarters. It was then, at the door to the room, that Mina remembered her question for Dario.

‘Time to sleep,’ Dario said, one finger to her lip. ‘We’ll talk tomorrow. You can barely stand, my love.’

He leaned in to kiss her, but Mina pulled back.

‘Wait, Dario. I have to know … You’ve been with this troupe most of your life, haven’t you?’

Dario nodded.

‘Then you must remember a boy, a young man who joined the troupe, years ago now. From the same village as me.’

Several expressions flickered across Dario’s face, one after the other, too quickly gone to read. ‘Paolo,’ he said.

Mina took a step back. ‘You know! Where is he? What happened to him?’

Dario took a deep breath. ‘Why Mina?’

She’d trusted Dario with so much already. She had to trust him further. ‘He’s my brother. I need to find him.’

Mina registered a look that might have been dismay on Dario’s face, but as he began to speak the door opened. Uberto stood there.

‘Ah, our lovebirds are come home to us. Welcome my little fledglings. I hope you saw wondrous things on this sacred day. Now, quickly, to bed.’

Uberto ushered Mina into the room. Dario stood back, confusion on his face.

‘Come lad, you must sleep. Tomorrow we perform.’

Dario looked from Uberto to Mina. ‘One more moment, Uberto,’ he said. He drew Mina back into the hallway.

As Uberto closed the door they heard him sigh theatrically and exclaim, ‘Ah, young love!’

Dario pulled Mina close, but not for a kiss. ‘Mina, be careful. I’ll do what I can to help you find Paolo, but …’

‘You don’t know where he is?’ she interrupted.

‘Tell no one you’re his sister, or that you even know him. It could put you in danger. What you told me about the threads … I’m trying to figure out who … I might have made a mistake.’

‘What’s going on Dario?’

Dario’s grip on Mina’s arms was hurting. ‘If the wrong person finds out you know about the threads and about Paolo …’

‘What about Paolo?’ Mina cried.

‘Ssh, ssh.’ Dario pulled her close, his forehead bent to touch hers. ‘Just don’t tell anyone else about Paolo.’ He kissed her then, but it was a desperate kiss, not gentle.

‘What’s wrong Dario?’

‘Nothing. Nothing. Get some sleep.’

Dario opened the door to their sleeping quarters and ushered Mina in. They quickly settled into their beds. Aside from Uberto, who sat awake and watchful, the room was empty. Mina was asleep before any of the others returned from their sojourn in the city.

~

Isabella woke Mina by leaping on her with an excited shriek. All the players sat huddled on their blankets looking tired, their eyes shadowed. Jal entered the room with a great basket held in both arms, and declared it was time for breakfast. Mina groaned. Outside only black sky was visible, and her foggy head told her it was far too early to be awake.

Isabella, the only one with any energy, dove for the basket and was batted away by Mama Tina and Lisette, who began spreading small ceramic bowls, strange flat grey wafers, and an assortment of berries onto Mina’s blanket. Mina had to draw her feet up so no one sat on her. The flat wafers were baked from oats and honey, and the bowls held thick cream. Everyone spread berries and cream onto the oatcakes, sitting on the blanket to eat this luxurious breakfast. Jal poured goblets of rosewater cordial for them, and they slowly began to revive.

Luka jumped up when someone began pounding on the room’s door. No one else seemed inclined to move. He let in a man dressed in a curious costume, patterned similarly to Harlequin’s diamonds but in brighter reds, greens, and blues, and wearing a three-pronged hat with a bell on each point. When he spoke his voice was almost comically high.

‘The guild washrooms are yours, but be quick. You’re the last. We must be in the grand dancehall before the sun rises.’

Uberto led his troupe unerringly to the antechamber of the guild washrooms, a simple room panelled in dark wood. Stewards stood at a table, handing a thick cloth to each player. The men were directed through a door to the right, the women to the left. Beyond, in the women’s washroom, walls of the same dark wood as the entranceway bore mosaics framed like paintings. One showed a waterfall, another the sea, a third a river, and the last a forest drenched with rain. There were no windows. Glowing braziers lit the room, which was thick with warm steam rising from a deep, broad pool. It was a room to luxuriate in, but few women were in the pool. Most were drying themselves or dressing in elaborate costumes, their movements slightly frenetic.

Mina had never experienced anything as luxurious as this. At home in Andon, the public baths were much smaller, and if old Livio, the caretaker of the baths, drank too much and fell asleep, as he was prone to do, the steam faded quickly, leaving tepid, grey water. Here, though, the water had a translucent green light, like the darkest part of a forest, and was as warm as welcome sleep at the end of a long day.

Mama Tina didn’t let the others enjoy the waters for long. Time was short. She hurried them to dry and dress. ‘Your costumes await. The stewards collected them earlier.’

As they dried themselves with the steward’s cloths, Isabella began speaking in a sing-song voice.

‘Today, today! My life will change today. The Inamorata will find her love. I know among the nobles there’ll be one who sees me and is captivated. Oh, but what if there’s more than one? Then what will I do?’

‘Do not count the chickens before they are hatchlings,’ Lisette muttered.

Each woman donned her chemise and petticoat. Lisette dressed in her servant-girl outfit: a simple linen skirt and bodice. The costumes had been laid out neatly on a bench, not a crease in sight. Isabella snatched up the beautiful white dress of the Inamorata, layer upon layer of fabric embroidered with exquisite rosebuds.

‘I count nothing. I know!’ Isabella declared. ‘This is my fate. I don’t have to read the cards to know. It’s in my bones. My whole life has led me to this.’

There was one outfit left on the bench, and it was one Mina had never seen before. Usually for playing she had no costume of her own, just as she had no mask or role of her own, instead wearing one of the women’s costumes that would not be needed during the performance.

‘Is this my costume?’ she asked, her voice small. There were extra petticoats, and a silken skirt of pale blue embroidered with dark blue leaves and moonstone beads for flowers. But it was the bodice that was most magnificent. Pieced together from diamonds like Harlequin’s outfit, it was not, however, limited to his four colours of red, brown, green, and yellow. Each diamond was of a different coloured fabric, many threaded with beads or gold or sequins. Each sleeve consisted of two bands of the same diamond pattern, and tied onto the bodice with blue silk ribbons.

Mama Tina smiled. ‘We thought you should have a costume of your own for a royal performance. We all worked on it, Isabella on the skirt and Lisette and I on the bodice. The design was Luka’s idea. It’s like a …’

‘… a story teller’s cloak,’ Mina finished. ‘It’s beautiful!’

‘You’re our story teller. He’s a clever boy, that Luka. Quiet, but clever. He reminded us that what you do makes our playing different.’ Mama Tina smiled again.

‘So your costume, it tells the audience you are both player and story teller,’ Lisette added.

Isabella clapped her hands impatiently. ‘Enough, enough! We must go. Do I look magnificent?’

The others all reassured Isabella absent-mindedly as they hurried Lisette and Mina into their costumes. Mina fingered the beautiful bodice.

‘I know we perform after lunch is served, if we don’t catch a scarf,’ Mama Tina reassured them, her fingers flying to lace up the back of Mina’s bodice. ‘Uberto is respected, he is told things. Still, it’s poor form to arrive after another performer has started, and particularly after their majesties are seated. There! Hurry now!’

The older woman bustled the younger ones out of the guild baths and through the empty halls to the main palace. Though it was still dark outside, the rich curtains were drawn back to reveal a hint of light in the pre-dawn air. Mina had become used to the constant bustle of hundreds of artisans living in the guild wing together. The silence was unnerving.

They weren’t the last to arrive at the grand ballroom, but few spaces remained on the colourful patchwork of rugs that filled the hall. Giant candelabras in alcoves around the walls cast an eerie illumination over hundreds of people. Mina looked up when she heard rustling noises above her line of sight. A long balcony ran along three sides of the hall, its façade decorated with seven-pointed stars, and nobles in all their finery were taking their seats there, high above the crowd of artisans. A great archway was cut out of the fourth wall of the ballroom, and hung with green velvet curtains, overlaid with silver cobwebs. Mina guessed this must be the performing space.