The Tales of Tarya, Books 1-3

Chapter 3 - A Tale Needs Telling-2

Uberto smiled. ‘I have an idea.’

~

Mina sat close to the front steps of the stage, on the soft grass. She hugged herself, feeling the air growing cooler by the minute. Night was falling and Dario was lighting lamps nestled in boxes at the front of the stage and hung in the wings. Onstage, Ciro and Isabella were having an argument. Ciro wore a mask, but even with his face hidden Mina could tell he was glaring at the younger girl. It took her a minute to realise the argument wasn’t real. They were rehearsing.

Ciro’s character was trying to convince Isabella’s to give herself to him in exchange for her lover’s freedom. Yet the force of hatred in Isabella’s voice was palpable to Mina.

Despite the passion onstage, she found it hard to concentrate as she pondered what had just happened. It had been strange enough leaving her body, seeing herself from above. But then to have created a palace, a whole world, just with her thoughts, that was too strange. And it had been real. Real enough for Uberto to see it too. Mina wondered what else she would learn, travelling with the players.

Ciro’s voice broke through her musing. Looking up, Mina caught the exact instant when his mask transformed, melting against his features. This new face wasn’t much different from his own, yet at the same time the features he now bore were exaggerated, but not grotesquely so, the eyes just a little bigger than normal, the lips a brighter red.

‘You will never grow old.’

Mina shuddered at Ciro’s words. They sounded too real a threat.

Isabella fell to her knees, weeping. Though Mina knew this was an act, she found herself caught up in the emotion of the scene. Watching their persuasion and denial, she could see Isabella’s whole body shaking. Behind her white make-up her eyes were wide with pain.

Dario sat down next to Mina, a lamp in his hand.

‘Isabella always overdoes the drama. It cuts the comedy dead. Our audiences want to laugh. They want to see servants making fools of their masters, wives cuckolding their husbands, people falling over, singing, crude jokes.’

Isabella ran offstage then, pursued by Ciro. Wearing a white tunic and feathered cap, Roberto backed onto the stage, falling into a somersault then leaping up triumphantly. Lisette followed, wearing a mob cap and apron, her shoulders slumped. Roberto proceeded to flit around the stage, trying to convince Lisette, whom he called Smeraldina, to let him talk to her mistress. His form of persuasion was the opposite of Ciro’s. He was being quite successful in convincing Smeraldina he was very enamoured of her. Or at least Mina could see that was what was supposed to happen.

Roberto’s mask had transformed almost the minute he stepped onstage, its exaggerated hooked nose and lips becoming the bold features of a man who couldn’t rely on his looks, so must use his natural sensuality to win his way. Lisette’s mask hadn’t changed. Her voice, as she allowed herself to be seduced by the roguish servant, sounded flat and unconvincing even to Mina’s inexperienced observation. She seemed to be struggling to find things to say. The scene continued for a while, but despite Roberto’s high energy, the banter between the pair wasn’t working.

Dario placed one hand over Mina’s to catch her attention.

‘See how Lisette drops the scene whenever she speaks? Roberto has set a quick pace, but Lisette is too slow in her replies, or breaks her sentences up too much. Her servants tend to speak fast, with a lot of cheek and slang, but she just hasn’t got the rhythm going.’

‘Her servants?’ Mina asked.

‘Well, it’s the one basic character, but she might have a different name or slightly different mannerisms with each playing. But she’s always a servant and her function in the playing is always the same … comedy, confusion, music.’

Mina was more aware of the warmth of Dario’s hand on hers than his words. She realised she was staring too long into his eyes and forced her glance back to the stage.

‘It’s hard to be in Tarya when someone else onstage isn’t,’ Dario continued.

Mina realised he was still looking at her, and when she looked back again he smiled. His fingers moved just a little, slipping through her own.

‘We all have bad days though. We’ve all been in Lisette’s position,’ he said, and his voice caught. He looked down at their entwined fingers. Mina felt her stomach lurch. She couldn’t look away. She found herself watching his full lips as he spoke, his voice low.

‘But you don’t know about Tarya yet. You’ll learn soon.’

His words broke through Mina’s trance. She remembered the palace she’d created. Tarya. Was that where she’d been? Tarya was the heavenly home of the Creator and his Muses.

‘I … I think I’ve been to Tarya,’ Mina said, just as silence fell onstage. Lisette walked to the edge of the stage and glared at Mina, sitting in the grass. Dario quickly disengaged his hand from Mina’s.

‘You’ve what?’ Lisette said.

‘Lisette,’ Roberto said, pulling her round to face him, the mask reappearing on his face, ‘we’re rehearsing. And your playing is rubbish.’

Without warning, Lisette swung a fist at Roberto’s cheek. As her hand hit the mask, they all heard a hollow, ringing sound.

‘How dare you! You sad little man, with your pathetic little character, always promising the world to get your way. You are nobody, a fool! The audience, they do not even notice you. You think you are funny? Little farts and slapping bottoms, that is not funny! How dare you? How dare you?’

Lisette was overtaken by her fury and could say no more. Instead she began pounding her fists upon Roberto’s arms and shoulders. He’d been taking the mask off, and was now trapped, holding it halfway off his face and trying to defend himself. Lisette began speaking in Rennish as she pounded him. Dario excused himself to Mina. He ran up onstage to rescue Roberto, grabbing Lisette from behind and trying to pull her off the besieged actor.

Mina had to stop herself from laughing. It was like a funny scene, the actors hopping around onstage, entangled, yet she knew if she laughed it would make matters worse. After more struggles, Roberto managed to pull off his mask. Dario sat Lisette on the stage and talked to her. She glared at Roberto. Without warning, she stood and charged down the steps of the stage toward Mina. The rest of the troupe stepped from the wings onto the stage, watching.

‘It is your fault!’ Lisette shrieked. She stood in front of Mina, leaning over her. ‘You, a villager who thinks she can be a player. You with the arrogance. You know all about Tarya. You’ve been to Tarya. Little village girl, you know nothing!’

‘Enough!’

Out of nowhere, Uberto stepped between Mina and Lisette, who fell silent at the command in his voice.

‘I will give you no other warnings,’ Uberto said, and there was no arguing with his tone of voice. ‘You will apologise to Mina and Roberto. You are fined five silver for your appalling behaviour. And you will never hit another player or threaten them again. The day you do, you will no longer be a player.’

Without waiting for a response, he stepped out from between the pair and walked away.

Lisette looked around at the players’ shocked faces. ‘I am sorry, Mina,’ she said, looking down, not meeting her eyes. ‘I am sorry, Roberto,’ she said, then turned and ran to her wagon, disappearing inside.

Onstage, Isabella walked over to Roberto and touched his face. ‘Are you injured?’ she asked.

Roberto smiled ruefully, rubbing his jaw. ‘I’m fine. She just caught the mask at the wrong angle. She’s feeling threatened.’

‘Maybe so,’ Isabella responded, dropping her voice. ‘But some things must be done behind the scenes, not where all can see.’ She glanced at Mina and smiled.

~

Lisette didn’t join the troupe for supper that night. They sat around the cooking fire, eating a watery stew, laughing and talking over each other. Roberto, recovered, complimented Mama Tina on her skill at using a bare bone to create a stew that almost tasted like meat.

‘Supplies are running low,’ Mama Tina responded. ‘We’ll need to do well in Clusone. Or tighten our belts.’

‘We are well loved in Clusone,’ Uberto said. ‘Tomorrow evening we will have a feast!’

Mama Tina replied, ‘I hope so. I hope so.’

Uberto didn’t let her pessimism mar his mood. He stood to make an announcement. ‘We have extra rehearsals tonight. We must run Mina through the show!’

There were gasps of surprise amongst all the players.

‘Already?’

‘You mean she’ll play in Clusone? Impossible!’

‘Did she really reach Tarya?’

Isabella’s voice cut through the hubbub, sharp as a knife. ‘What part will she play?’

Uberto bowed, giving a great flourish. ‘That is the wondrous thing. Mina will tell our story!’

Everyone, including Mina, stared at him, open-mouthed.

Finally Aldo spoke up. ‘She is to play Harlequin?’

‘Impossible!’ Ciro stated.

Uberto silenced them all with a flash of his inconstant eyes. ‘She is not to play Harlequin. She is to tell. She will tell, you will play! Tomorrow she can ride with me to Clusone so I can teach her some of our stories. I will play Harlequin, but Mina will introduce the story. This is her gift! She can create scenery for you in Tarya. Though the audience will not see what she creates, you will. It will make all the difference.’

Mina stood up, startled. ‘I’m not ready!’

The other players were all looking at her, shock clear on their faces. Doubt assailed her. She had no idea what she’d done, or how, or whether she could do anything like it again. Then she remembered how her words had conjured a whole world, magnificent in detail, and she smiled. She realised now the experience had made her feel … powerful. And in a strange way, it had felt like coming home. Perhaps she wouldn’t be ready tomorrow. But … perhaps she would.

Uberto stood before her, offering her his hand, and she took it, following him to a quiet spot by the lake. They sat down together and he began telling her a story. After a while he asked her to repeat it to him, correcting anything she missed. Mina was surprised to find she was able to commit the story to memory with ease. Then Uberto started to instruct her in how much to tell, and when to leave it to the players to improvise. Though Mina didn’t leave her body again, she felt a welling excitement at the thought that Tarya was within reach, if she could learn to control this gift.

~

The rest of the troupe busied themselves tidying up from dinner, mending masks and props, and checking costumes for wear. During their silent toil, Lisette joined them, unable to sit alone with her fears any longer. However, the discussion amongst the other players fuelled her worries. They were arguing about how Mina could possibly be ready to perform before an audience the following day.

Lisette listened for a few minutes then broke in, frantic. ‘What will she do? Is she to be a servant?’

Isabella grinned. ‘Lisette, you’ve joined us. Mina will be performing in Clusone tomorrow. Clearly the girl has exceptional talent, and we must all give her our greatest support. She’ll become a star in the firmament of playing, leaving us poor mortals earth-bound …’

‘Stop it, Isabella,’ Dario said. ‘Lisette, Mina will tell in place of Harlequin’s introductions. She won’t be replacing you.’

‘At least, not yet,’ Roberto teased. Lisette’s eyes flashed to him and he looked away again, his hand slipping up to his cheek.

Mina returned with Uberto. She didn’t look nervous. Her shoulders were straight, her posture confident.