by Power, P. S.
"I was going to go with small. I heard that the place only has about two hundred people? Given the weather we might end up playing to about six, then. If that. It might as well be a private show, really. Well, we're paid to play the songs and tell the stories, not get upset that it's only to a few people." Then the man ate as if it were the most important thing in the world or something.
She picked at her food a bit and didn't finish it all. They weren't required to on the ship, and she explained about the drugs as she turned her plate in, so that the cook wouldn't feel insulted. It was good, she just wasn't hungry. That was all.
That meant that she and Ben went to his room and though it was kind of awkward, he had her strip nearly bare and started to apply her make-up for her. She didn't have time to do it herself. That would take having a good mirror as well as more time. Then he pulled out a yellow top for her to wear, and a tan skirt. They sort of matched, and even if the old skirt was well worn and had patches on it, she got the idea. Those bits of material were all done in red, with green thread trimmings, like half her face. It was nearly clever looking, rather than simply poor.
"Ah! I get it." She was stating the obvious, but sounded pleased enough that Ben laid his hand on her back. Her bare back. It was a Bard thing, being naked around people before, and sometimes after, shows. Touching them, other than to help with make-up, that was just him, she thought. He didn't hold it forever and it felt a bit deliberate. Not unwelcome, just strange.
Then he carefully helped her get dressed. It meant touching her more, but only in the places actually needed to keep make-up off the top. When they were ready, they had to scurry a bit, and found almost everyone else out front, with not one, but two loaded flat sledges, which were low to the ground and had flat bottoms on them. They had to be walked in, but were pulled by horses. The old gray and the tan mare, to be exact, since that was what they had. Pran got to ride, because of how she was dressed, and so did Judge Claire, but everyone else walked, with Roy and Zeke, the new man, each handling a horse.
That got them there about half an hour later, but at least there would be more than six people at the show, she realized, since they'd brought more than that with them.
It turned out to be a good thing too, since Ben hadn't been wrong really. Sam and Mildred were there, with Lyse, but Kevin and Hadis weren't, since the little girl had fallen asleep already. That seemed odd to Pran, but she figured it was just a polite way to keep the girl at home. There were a handful of others from the town, including a rather incredulous looking young man. He stared at her, and if it wasn't for his silly mustache, she might not have remembered him at all. Even if he was sort of cute. Things had been busy after all.
Ben smirked, but turned it into a very professional look almost instantly.
"Shall you take the lead this time? It was your deal, after all."
That made sense, so she did it, keeping her smile wide and her eyes happy the whole time. She played the first three songs, keeping them light and happy, then let Ben step in for the next two. They did a duet, then several instrumentals, and since everyone was happy enough, played their encore songs without being asked. Sam Milner and his wife both bounced politely, and Lyse bobbed her head. It was a shame that the little girl wasn't there, but the others seemed happy enough.
When they finished they bowed out, but there was really no place to go, so they just packed up their instruments right there in front of everyone.
Sam clapped as he walked up.
"That was excellent. I'll have to tell everyone what they missed. It's the excitement of the last few days here, I think, rather than anyone avoiding you. Eric, will you help load up the wood that we talked about earlier?" This got addressed to the young man, who was still staring, off and on.
Pran got that she looked odd. That was the point. No one else seemed all that worried about it, but Eric actually glanced over his shoulder at her on his way to the door. He smiled at least, which was a good sign it wasn't something negative. Or at least that he was a good actor. It wasn't lost on her that anyone in the town might actually be with the techno-cult. Something that Zeke had said came to mind as he followed Eric and Roy out the door.
Conversion.
She knew what the word meant, in general, but what it would mean to someone like Zeke, she didn't know at all. That was something to find out. Clark moved along with them, since he was big, strong and could keep an eye on the new man, by working with him. At least she assumed that the goal wasn't to alert Zeke instantly, by being too obvious. He might also just need to answer a call of nature. That wasn't very likely however. Not when there was work to be done.
For her part she chatted with a man from the village and his wife, who were both very pleased they'd braved the chill air to see the Bards and made that very, very clear. The woman even took time to make eyes at Ben, who flirted back a little, if with more control. The husband didn't seem to notice, and didn't try making a move on her, but did watch Judge Claire very carefully the whole time. He wasn't one of the people to be on trial for having beaten a man either. True, Claire was pretty, but also holding herself aloof from the others, watching them all. It was strange, seeing her do it, after nearly losing her sight like she had. The inside of the meeting place had lamps and they could see, but it wasn't a bright place at all. She was using the side of her vision to do it, which was a thing that Pran hadn't really thought about before.
Looking a bit away from the white clad lady, she tried it herself, without making a huge deal of it. She could tell where she was, of course, but when she focused, after a bit of practice, she could get more. It wasn't enough for a judge to do her work, was it? Not unless Claire was a lot better at it than she was. Since that seemed pretty likely, Pran let it go and made a point of talking to everyone, patting the women on the hands and arms and when Eric came back in smiling at him, and waving, so he knew that she was open to talking to him. He didn't come over however, but still looked.
"He's a bit shy." Roy spoke to her from the right, with the older new fellow, Zeke, by his side. "You got a lot more wood than I thought you would. I hope you and Claire are up to walking back?" There was a happiness to the words, but then he dragged her and Ben out, to much laughter, since they had to get back soon.
His take on things weren't wrong at all, so she got to trudge along on foot with the others. The snow wasn't too deep, especially in the tracks made by the now heavy sledges, so it wasn't that bad. They had more than enough wood for her instruments. That and a small shed with a tight roof on it. There was no material for strings, but in a large and heavy glazed pot there was wood glue. She'd have to heat it before use, but it would work pretty well, she thought. It would take a while to work the wood down properly, but she had the Captain to hand to ask about using the wood shop on the ship, and got a surprised glance from her when she did.
"I didn't know you worked in wood. I thought it was all singing for you. Playing too. Do you do carvings? I thought you needed whole pieces of wood for that?" She sounded interested, which was probably a mistake on her part, but Pran liked to hear it.
Most people didn't think about carving that much.
"You can rough cut wood plank into the right shapes and glue those together, then carve the finished product. Large pieces of wood can be used for that too, but it's not the only way to do it. With stone it is, and that's mainly what I like to work in, but wood isn't too bad. It just doesn't last as long. I want to make some instruments though. The ones I have are borrowed." She waited, but it didn't take long for the woman to get to the business side of things. It was why Pran had to ask in the first place, since the whole ship and everything on it, was this woman's job.
"You know tools though? You can sharpen them, clean and oil them, that sort of thing?"
"Yes. It's needed for the work. Especially with wood like this. It's a bit younger than I like. I wish I had a drying kiln."
It was clear that Captain Mina wasn't the only one listening, since Bill, th
e Second Mate called out from a ways back that she should try setting the planks under the engine vents.
"Some of them, I mean. Just the ones you want to dry fast. Might take a week, if we aren't running hot, of course." He wasn't drunk, but seemed to be more mellow somehow, which probably meant he'd been sipping at something or another in town.
"Did you find who sells the hard cider then?" Pran realized that it was probably a bad question to ask the man, but no one yelled at her. In fact the man himself just smiled and moved up alongside her easily.
"I did at that! The pretty, but slow girl has a side business. Wanted to know if I could trade for some, without it strictly being run by the tax man. Said I'd run the idea past the Captain. It isn't bad quality. Good enough it would need to be in the locked-room, if you don't want half the crew down with a big and aching head each morning. She adds spices to it. Clove and mulling spices. A bit strong that way, but still mellow. I think there was a hint of lemon moss too." It was clear that the man was going to go on for a bit that way, but Mina eyed the Judge, who had to have heard them, and nodded.
"See to that, but keep it low key. You'll need Paul with you, or Clark. I don't want you coming back drunk either."
Bill snorted, but didn't say she was wrong, Pran noticed.
"I'll take the young Bard here, and she can protect me from myself." He seemed serious, but Pran shook her head and spun away carefully, laughing a bit as he reached out for her backside.
"Oh! But who'd protect you from me?" She tried to make it saucy sounding and made a grab for his behind in return, which he avoided out of reflex. People did after all.
That got people talking and she nearly forgot her request, until the Captain patted her arm a bit to get her attention.
"Get with Paul and go over what you want to do. If he thinks it sounds reasonable, then you have permission to use the tools. Replace what you break, but most of the things are decently sound, so they won't go if you don't get unlucky, as long as you use care."
That seemed both scary and reasonable at the same time. She didn't really have any coin after all.
When she mentioned this, Mina shrugged.
"We have some light woodworking you can do, if you have time. A few weeks is long enough. If I like the work, I'll pay for it. At least enough to cover light breakage at any rate. I'll have Paul run over that as well, in the morning though. You've been up for a while, haven't you?"
"A day and a half." This came from next to her, which made her jump, since Mara hadn't been there before. She just appeared in place it seemed, which Pran was starting to get used to. It was still a bit shocking when she wasn't ready for it, so she jumped this time, having been distracted.
Mina winced.
"Maybe in the afternoon then. Unless you already have other plans? I know you like to keep busy. Far be it for me to tell you otherwise. Maybe some of that laundry, if it isn't going to rain?"
That seemed like a likely enough plan, so she started to say she'd do it, just to have Zeke call out from in front of them.
"Um, ma'am? I said that I'd help with that, if I'm not needed for other duties?"
That got Mara to clap a few times. She really hated doing laundry. Her words seemed a bit forced, which made sense, given she knew that Zeke wasn't just a new ship's hand.
"If you do laundry, I'll marry you. The man of my dreams it seems." She let her eyes light, but Zeke bowed his head, looking away.
"Um, that sounds fine ma'am. It's part of the job, so I don't know if it's needed." He mumbled, like Pran had told him to, and that made him seem shy, rather than strangely accented. It was still in his voice that he wasn't perfectly local, but no one said anything about it.
Not even Mara.
"Even better then. Still, maybe I should think about settling down?" Then she was gone, which was done when no one else was looking. Pran saw it this time, since it was just physical movement and not really magic, but it was still too fast and silent for the snow. If she'd tried it, there would have been a sprained knee or ankle involved, no doubt. Clark wasn't around at all, as far as she could determine.
That could mean anything, from him having gone back to town, to him being right behind her. The horses made enough noise, along with the chattering from the others, that it was impossible to tell, unless she laid eyes on him. That didn't happen, even after she ran in and changed back into regular clothing, and wiped most of the greasepaint off. She jogged back, so that she could help stow the wood at the back of the ship, in the hold. She'd never been back that far, but it was larger than she'd thought, with all the levels being wide and opened, except for the second one, which was where Roy had them take the wood. It meant going slow, but he showed them the spaces under the vents that Bill had mentioned. They weren't high, but the things were metal boxes, and two boards would fit under each, width wise, and using some stones that Roy provided, they were able to set up air gaps, and stack them six high. That covered twenty four of the boards.
"Pine first. Apple really isn't that good for instruments. It makes nice boxes, if you treat it right. Not that I have the right lacquers, but one thing at a time." It took longer to set all the wood inside than it had to play the songs that earned it, and it was late when they were finished. Roy looked tired and she was starting to feel it herself.
The drugs were wearing off, finally. Still, she made herself wash first, and scrubbed until she was certain nothing was left of the make-up. Then she did it again. Greasepaint worked because it didn't just come off every time you accidently rubbed at it. The cost of that was how hard it was to remove on the other side of the performance.
Then she and Roy went to bed, walking in at the same time. It was dark in the room, so she didn't see anything, but she heard what sounded like the boy getting into bed.
He muttered at her, stifling a yawn.
"G'night, Pran."
"Good night, Roy."
Then her head hit the pillow and darkness rolled over her. It was relaxing and she slept until there was a knock at the door. It wasn't a pounding at all, just a gentle tap. She figured that it would be Paul, coming to get her for that afternoon wood working, and it was him, but that wasn't his goal at all. He actually wanted to make sure the Roy was up in time for his shift.
"It was a late night, but engineering needs to be manned in case we have to leave." He had a bit of a wicked gleam in his eye as Roy got up, without complaint.
"I'm up. Be right in. How late is it?" It was hard to tell, in their room. There was no light from outside.
Paul cleared his throat.
"Why, nearly seven, you gadabouts. It's almost as if you plan to sleep the whole day away!" Pran stood up herself, and stretched.
"I'm up too. I'll..." She didn't know where she was supposed to be, but had an idea. She wanted the new man to think she was good at getting things done, didn't she? Useful? She nodded at Roy. "I'll be acting as nurse for Will Butcher, if he's still alive. Send that new fellow Zeke by after a time so that I can set up the laundry detail with him? If it's not raining, I mean." If it was icing over, they'd be in the air, and that would mean that Roy would have been working already, even if it was the middle of the night.
He didn't think that sounded odd, and nodded, but didn't answer.
The First Mate shook his head.
"You know, when I was a boy and had a late night, the Second mate would wake me by throwing the shutters up and banging on a metal bin, screaming 'Get yer lazy bones up!' Even with that, it took me half an hour to have things ready so I could stand. You two are making me look bad." He stepped back and cleared his throat. "Keep it up."
Then they had to race around for a while, to get caught up on things, being a little over an hour late already. No one screamed at them about it, or came to make her stand watch on the Judge's chambers. Doctor Millis wasn't in the sick room, so she did what he'd told her about the day before. Nearly two days before now, and mainly just let the sick and injured man sleep for a while. Hours later, ab
out ten in the morning, Zeke found her, poking his head in shyly. The Doctor was right behind him, looking rested enough and tidy.
So no covering their secret plans yet, it seemed.
She smiled, since that was fine with her, for the moment.
"Good, everyone is here! I'll go and get some food for you Doctor Millis. Can Will eat anything yet? He's stirred some, but not spoken. He did take some water about an hour ago."
The old man seemed to be thinking about things for a bit, and then looked at her and oddly, Ezekiel, then he spoke without sounding out of place at all.
"I'd love two eggs and some toast, if that isn't a bother dear? Some coffee might be in order as well? As for Will, well, he's recovering. Physically. I think the trauma of things has him feeling less inclined to talk at all. Perhaps you could tell him the story about how you fought that group of attackers last week? That would entertain him. A single young girl braving the wilderness in a storm, protecting us all from fifteen strangers from a long forgotten world." For the first time since she'd met the man, the Doc seemed to be saying something in a coded fashion. The man let his eyes dart a bit, toward the new hand.
It wasn't to her either, if she had it right, but to Zeke.
Chapter eight
There wasn't a lot she could do about the idea. She knew that before Doc Millis even stopped speaking, his eyes searching the strange military man that was hiding on their ship as a normal hand. He looked regular enough, to Pran, but the Doctor seemed to know what was happening, at least on some level. After a few minutes of letting everyone speak for a bit, she heard it. There... deep in the doctor's voice.
It was in the tone of what he said, as much as the words. Maybe more than anything else. It was that part of him that she always found fussy and particular. It wasn't an accent, which would have been easier to pick up. No, it was that he was hiding one. It made him sound a little bit like Zeke did as he mumbled and tried to hide his own. That she hadn't noticed it before was amazing.