The Tales of Tarya, Books 1-3

Chapter 5 - The Warrior Queen-2

Uberto whistled again. Mina tried to catch the reins before they fell away from the driver’s footboard.

‘Oh, great Creator!’ Lisette said.

Mina had caught one rein but the other was just beyond her reach, on the edge. She dropped to her knees and reached for it, stretching as far as she could and just managing to grab it.

Lisette grabbed her waist, pulling her back up to the seat. ‘There’s more of them.’

A line of perhaps a dozen men blocked the road a short distance ahead. Uberto was already veering his wagon to the left, and he rode off the dirt road into the scrubland.

‘Thank the Creator we have no rain for days,’ Lisette said. ‘The ground is hard. Follow Uberto, Mina.’ Then she slumped in the seat.

Mina pounded on the door. ‘Isabella, Lisette’s hurt.’

She was half aware of Isabella opening the door and pulling Lisette inside as she tried to listen to Uberto’s frantic whistling and remember what the coded message was. Before she could turn the wagon off the road, she saw a handful of men on horses riding in from the left, heading for Uberto. His wagon veered again, but he had nowhere to go. On one side were the horses, on the other the men. To their right a stone fence gave way to the ocean. The men were shouting now, spitting invective with their anger, demanding the players get away from their homes. Petruchio tossed his head, his eyes wild.

Then the rain broke. It was ferocious, stabbing from the sky in torrents, blurring the scenery, hiding the men. The air temperature dropped with unbelievable swiftness and Mina was soaked in an instant. She prayed the road would stay firm, despite the storm. Taking a deep breath, she let out a roar and flicked the reins as hard as she could. The wagon lurched forward. She kept flicking the reins and they gathered speed. Petruchio gave his all.

‘Follow me,’ Mina called out to Uberto just as a streak of lightning tore the sky in two. Uberto veered his wagon in behind her, and the other wagons, still in line, picked up their speed.

Mina charged toward the line of men. They carried makeshift weapons, household equipment for the most part, and some knives. They seemed unperturbed by the heavy rain. Mina closed her eyes.

‘Trust me, Petruchio,’ she said, and flicked the horse again. Thunder rattled the air. As though in reply, another fork of lightning seared the sky, then another and another, plunging to the earth. An eerie white light illuminated the landscape.

In her mind Mina conjured an image of a great queen, not sedate and courtly, like the stories she’d heard about the royalty at Aurea, but ferocious and proud.

She spoke under her breath. ‘The queen ruled a warrior people, and led them against their enemies …’

It wasn’t working. Tarya was elusive. Perhaps she needed a mask to reach it. She let out a yell of frustration, and realised she was almost upon the line of men.

‘Am I a player?’ she asked herself, and pulled herself to a standing position, grasping the curved roof frame with one hand for balance. The wagon was swaying with the speed, but she stood as firmly as she could. She put the reins in one hand and let go of the roof, holding her hand in the air, as though she held a weapon. The line of men stood firm and she knew at any moment their weapons would come flying at her. She took a deep breath and let out a great cry again.

‘The warrior queen was determined she would not be stoned to death in a small village,’ Mina muttered, and straightened her back. The air was filled with a huge throbbing as wave after wave of thunder broke across the land. The village men saw a chariot and two horses charging them, ridden by a giantess with flaming red hair. She seemed to be commanding the storm with her cries. First one, then another, their weapons fell to the ground. Their shouts died away. Then the chariot was upon them, and they scattered. They fell to the ground and watched as four Innaroi wagons thundered by, shaking and cracking with the speed. The men looked at each other, puzzled, confused to see no chariot.

Once through the line of men, Mina tried to pull Petruchio back, but he was panicked and she had to fight him hard. He was skidding a little on the wet ground and Mina felt fear. The wagon was making cracking sounds loud enough to be heard over the storm.

Mina stumbled, grabbing the roof frame again, and fell into the driver’s seat, pulling the reins to slow the horse’s speed a little at a time, calming him along with her own heart. She remembered Isabella’s strange calls last time Petruchio had bolted, and copied them as best she could. Gradually, the horse slowed, though his sides heaved and he still flicked his mane, his pace slowly losing its panicked beat.

By the time the wagons reached the small village, they were moving at a normal pace. Mina scanned the streets but they were empty, washed bare by the pelting rain. All the men must have been forming the barricade and the welcoming riders. The women and children must be inside, safe from the storm. It’s almost as if the players bring a storm with them, Mina thought, remembering the first day she had seem them at Andon.

Mina slowed Petruchio down to a walk as they passed down the main street. The buildings were grey and dirty, not gleaming like the proud homes of her town. Weeds sprouted everywhere. They could be travelling through an abandoned village, the place was so devoid of life. Then, at the end of the row of houses, she saw a door open, and a young woman stepped out of a small doorway. She was very pretty, but wore drab clothing. She held up her hand, and Mina slowed the wagon, but didn’t come to a stop, afraid of a trap. She was curious, for the young woman seemed eager to talk to her.

The woman walked alongside the wagon, rain dripping down her face. She didn’t flinch when the sky flared with white light.

‘I told them not to hurt you. That will achieve nothing. They think you take our dreams for your plays.’

‘That doesn’t make any sense,’ Mina began.

The girl looked up at Mina, and her eyes sparked with hatred. ‘I see what you really take. You’re evil. May the Creator curse you.’ The girl’s beautiful face contorted with bitterness. ‘You took Lia’s child.’

‘No!’ Mina said, ‘we’re not kidnappers. I’ve never even been here before.’

‘But you’re one of them. He doesn’t even speak now. His face is empty …’

The rest of her words were lost in another burst of thunder, quieter than before.

Mina shook her head. ‘I don’t understand …’

‘May the Creator curse you!’

The girl turned and ran back to the doorway from which she’d come. Shaken, Mina urged Petruchio to ride on, and had to stop herself from forcing the wagon into a gallop again. Her hands were trembling. She scanned the road ahead, searching for another trap. Her attention focused on the road, she didn’t see the man who pursued her until he grabbed the traces on Petruchio and swung onto the horse’s back. Mina raised the rein, planning to flick it to dislodge the man, before she realised it was Uberto. He leaped nimbly from Petruchio’s back to the seat.

‘Good riding, Mina. You handled that well.’

‘I went to …’

Mina stopped, realising she’d just defied Uberto’s rule about going to Tarya in public, and also realising none of the other players would have seen, because they had all been behind her. She wasn’t sure what the villages had seen, but it had saved their lives. She changed the subject.

‘Uberto, that woman accused us of stealing a child or … I don’t know what. They hate us for it.’

Uberto’s eyes turned grey. ‘A child?’

Mina nodded.

‘That is too much,’ he said. ‘It is wrong. Even Mourini …’

‘Too much of what? Uberto, you have to tell me what’s going on. Am I part of this troupe? Players wouldn’t do that, would they?’

They were leaving the village now, and the storm was dying, its fury abated.

‘We hide nothing from you, Mina. What I have to tell you is difficult to understand. It is best to show you. That is how it has always been with new players. Can you be patient just a little longer? Just until we reach Irsha?’

‘There’s another village before Irsha. What if they attack us too? I deserve to know, Uberto. I’m in danger, and I don’t even know why.’

‘None of us know, little bird. I must see to Lisette.’

He disappeared inside the wagon, then reappeared with a wool blanket for Mina.

‘Dry yourself,’ he ordered. ‘We will discuss this tonight. You did well, Mina. You may have saved our lives.’

Uberto leaned over and kissed her forehead, then disappeared inside the wagon again.

~

A short while later, when they were far enough beyond danger, Uberto took over from Mina to move the costume wagon into the circular formation they used when they camped.

‘No fire tonight,’ he commanded as all the players gathered. ‘But we must talk.’

With the storm gone, the air had returned to a sticky warmth. Mama produced pies from Clusone, and the players brought seats from the wagons. They ate in silence.

As the meal ended, Uberto requested that Mina tell the others her conversation with the girl in the village. They all murmured with surprise when she mentioned a child had been taken, though they seemed less concerned by everything else the girl had said. Lisette, seated on a rug on the ground, huddled with her face hidden against her legs. Mina felt Ciro watching her during the conversation and shifted uncomfortably. Mama Tina looked sick. It was she who broke the murmuring.

‘A child? Who would do such a thing?’

Uberto stood in the centre of the circle, looking at each player one at a time. ‘Well, we know it was another troupe. We have not been this way since before Isabella and Jal joined us. We have no clues as to which troupe it was. Whoever it was, they have broken the vow and behaved in the most reckless way.’

His choice of words struck Mina as strange, and she frowned.

‘Besides,’ he continued, ‘the girl was right. To take a child is evil. And there can be no reason to.’

‘But how …’ Mina began.

Ciro broke in. ‘Surely the question now is whether our journey ahead is safe? First Isabella kidnapped and now an ambush on the entire troupe. What awaits us in Miria?’

Dario spoke up. ‘That’s not the only question. Who did this, and how do we stop them?’

‘We’ve been summoned to Aurea by the king,’ Isabella said. ‘We don’t have time to search the whole of Litonya for rogue players.’

‘For once, think about someone other than Isabella,’ Jal hissed at her. ‘Dario’s right. We have to find these players.’

‘It’s not our place,’ Aldo said. ‘We should inform the Council of Muses.’

‘The Council of Muses doesn’t protect or regulate players. It never has,’ Ciro said. ‘We’re on our own.’

‘Isabella is right,’ Uberto said. ‘We have an obligation to fulfil in Aurea.’

He held up his hand to silence Jal and Dario, who were already protesting.

‘It is the Festival of Lights. Any player worth anything will be in Aurea, as will all artisans. We will be able to glean what news we need there.’

Jal and Dario both sat, appeased.

Uberto continued. ‘And Ciro is right, also. We are on our own. The players are their own protection, and their own oath keepers. Once we find out which players have done this deed, we will deal with them as we should. They will play no longer.’