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A Girl of White Winter

Page 8

by Barb Hendee


  “You’ve hardly kept quiet.”

  “Don’t play the fool with me. It doesn’t work. Now, I find out she has no skill in performing at all? You never had any idea what she’d do. Why did you bring her along then, Raven? Why?”

  Silence followed. Then Raven said, “She’ll be in the show. I’m just not sure what I’ll have her do yet.”

  “Well, you’d better figure it out! She’s not strong enough to build up or take down the stage, and we don’t need anyone else passing hats, and I’m not feeding dead weight. None of us will.” Another silence followed, and she said more quietly. “You’d better figure it out.”

  As I absorbed her words, one thing became clear to me. Of the men, only three did not partake in some way in the show itself. Even Michel worked the crowds passing a hat. But of those three men who did not partake, they’d done most of the heavy work setting up the stage and Lizbeth’s tent. All six of the women in the group took some part in the show, with Lizbeth reading fortunes and Teresa working the crowd with a hat.

  Footsteps sounded, and the door to the wagon slammed open. Raven came down taking the stairs two at a time. When he saw me on the ground, he stopped.

  For the first time, when he looked at me, his eyes held neither amusement nor protection nor pity. Instead, they held…regret. I couldn’t draw a breath. He regretted bringing me along. What would happen if he and Jade decided I wasn’t worth the trouble? Would I be cast out with no money and no way to send a message to my lady?

  Without a word, he walked past me, heading back toward the market. I let him go. He was not the one who needed to figure this out.

  I was.

  Chapter Six

  Late that afternoon, everyone gathered once again behind the stage. I kept myself apart, determined to watch and think of something I might do to help—anything. I was frightened of being cast away, and I needed a share of the coins that were earned.

  Raven still hadn’t spoken to me, and it appeared he and Jade weren’t speaking to each other more than was necessary. However, they were both determined the acts would be perfectly timed and flawless, and I suspected that in spite of their differences with each other, they shared a mutual love of running this show.

  After a deep breath, Raven stepped out to begin calling the crowd. Hours had passed since the first show, and now different people, doing their shopping, occupied the market.

  “Welcome my friends!” Raven called from the stage. “To the finest show in all of Samourè.”

  I took my same place downstage, peering out from between the curtain and the pole. The acts went on in the same order as this morning, and watching Jemma dance or Tannen and Badger’s feats of strength did nothing to help me. It was only when Jade stepped out and began her song that something tickled the back of my neck. Again, I couldn’t help noticing how far she stood back and that although her voice was lovely, she did nothing besides sing the words to tell the story of the poor girl who loses her love to war—and then pays the price. It was a fine story, but the audience was not engaged. They listened. They applauded. But few coins were thrown into the hats.

  Then Ash went out and began his act, and I noticed how he moved, how close he was to the crowd, how he looked into their faces.

  An idea hit me. The prospect was terrifying, but doing nothing was worse.

  I went to Raven, who was watching the stage between the break in the curtains.

  Touching his arm, I whispered. “I can tell stories.”

  He glanced down at me. “What?”

  “I can tell stories,” I rushed on. “My lady had many books with stories…adventures, comedies, ghost stories, romances, tragedies. I would read the stories to myself first, and to entertain her, I’d act them out. I can do voices, and I know when to pause and when to speak slowly and when to speak quickly.”

  I had his attention now, but he looked over the top of my head. “Jade, come here.”

  When he explained to her what I had in mind, to my relief, she appeared interested but said to me, “I don’t know. You’re just going to go out there and tell a story? You could lose the crowd, and if they wander off, we’ll lose money on the remaining acts.”

  “I won’t lose them,” I said, trying for a confidence I did not feel.

  She looked to Raven. “What do you think?”

  He shrugged. “It’s one show in a small town. I say we let her try.”

  Nodding, she said, “All right. Best send her out after the dance number but before Marcel and the dogs.” Now that she was focused on the show, all personal hostilities appeared forgotten. “Kara, look at me. Let me get that cloak off you and do something with your hair.”

  Out on stage, Ash was wrapping up the last of his fortune telling, and Raven had Marcel, Bonham, and the girls ready to go out. I tried to ignore all the activity.

  Jade removed my cloak and nodded at my ice blue dress. “It may not be sensible for travel, but it works well here.” She brushed my hair and used her fingers to fluff it all around my shoulders so that it hung like a blanket of silver-blond. “Your slippers are dirty,” she said. “That won’t do.”

  “I don’t have anything else with me. Might I borrow some?”

  She thought for a few seconds and then said, “Just take then off and go barefoot. It will make you look even more otherworldly.”

  “Otherworldly?”

  “That’s a good thing here,” she said. “Use it for all it’s worth.”

  She had me ready by the time the second dance act was nearly finished. I stood nervous but determined.

  Raven leaned down and asked, “What kind of story do you plan to tell?”

  I already knew. “A romance.”

  “You’ll have a few seconds’ leeway while they get a first look at you. I’ve kept you covered since our arrival for a reason. Use those few seconds to gather yourself. Once you start, make sure your voice carries all the way to the back of the crowd. You don’t have to be loud, just clear.”

  Swallowing hard, I nodded.

  Marcel, Bonham, and the three dancers came in.

  Raven stepped out. “My friends,” he called. “We have a new performer for you today, someone special to tell you a tale that will tug your heart strings.” Stepping back, he held open one side of the curtain. “May I present…the lady.”

  Drawing a breath, knowing there was no turning back, I walked out onto the stage as Raven vanished behind the curtain.

  Gasps sounded as people took in the sight of my near-white hair, crystalline blue eyes, pale skin, ice blue gown, and bare feet. Remembering Raven’s advice, I used the few seconds of shock to gather myself and then moved forward, all the way to the front edge of the stage, just as Ash had. The nearest people could have reached out and touched me.

  As everyone stared, I looked one by one into the faces of several people who stood closest to me, letting them know that I saw them too, that we were connected. This was how I always told stories to Lady Giselle. The hearer needed to feel connected to the tale.

  “There once was a soldier,” I began, letting my voice carry to the back of the crowd, “who fell in love with the proud and beautiful daughter of a nobleman. She was tall and slender, with eyes of green and locks of waving red hair. She wore the finest gowns of satin and velvet. Though the girl was set above him, the soldier was of good name and family, and he found her alone in her family’s garden. There, he fell to his knees, begging for her hand.”

  The crowd remained silent, and all eyes were upon me. Again, I looked out and down, gazing one at a time into several more faces.

  “But she laughed at his pleas,” I went on, “and spurned him, telling him he had nothing he might offer to her. In shame he fled the garden and had almost reached the gates of her family’s manor when a voice came from behind, calling, ‘Wait!’ Turning, he saw a young woman running toward him. She was pretty,
but small and simply dressed. Still burning in shame, he had no wish to speak to anyone, but the girl rushed to him, saying, ‘Do not despair so easily. For I am the lady’s maid, and I know her well. Go back to her and ask her to set you with three tasks. If you can fulfill three tasks for her, she will consider your proposal.’”

  Here I paused for effect. Stretching out both my hands, I began to imagine that I was back at the manor, telling this tale to Lady Giselle. I went on to tell of the three tasks that were set for the solider by his haughty love.

  First, she asked him to fetch a silver apple guarded by three great wolves. The soldier had little idea how to gain the apple, but the young maid went with him, and hid in the trees and howled like a wolf herself and distracted the wolves long enough for him to steal the apple. While telling this part of the story, I howled like a wolf and then acted out the soldier sneaking in to make his theft, fulfilling the first task.

  He and the maid escaped to make their way back to the manor.

  The haughty lady was not impressed, but she took the apple and then bade the soldier to steal a white stallion guarded by three giants. He had little idea how to gain the stallion, but again, the maid went with him, and dressed up like a fairy sprite and performed a dance to distract the giants just long enough for the soldier to steal the horse, fulfilling the second task.

  He and the maid escaped together and rode the stallion back to the manor.

  Again, the haughty lady merely sneered, accepted the stallion, and set him a third task of stealing a jeweled bracelet from a den of thieves. The young maid traveled with him, and when they reached the den of thieves, she told the soldier she would sing for the thieves and distract them.

  “But in that moment,” I said slowly to the crowd, “the soldier feared the thought of her placing herself in danger by letting the thieves even see her…and he realized that he no longer loved the haughty lady. Falling to his knees before the maid, he said, ‘It is you who have helped me, you who have stood at my side, and it is you I love. I would ask for your hand’.”

  All around me in the crowd, I saw soft smiles on people’s faces as the foolish soldier finally came to his senses.

  “The maid fell to her knees as well and accepted his love, for she had long loved him. And he took her to his family home and married her, and neither of them ever saw the haughty lady again.”

  I dropped my arms to signal the tale was done.

  At first, only silence followed, and then someone cheered, and the crowd burst into applause. On the outskirts, Teresa and Michel were both watching me in disbelief, but the sounds of clapping spurred them into action.

  They wove through the crowd with their hats, and I heard many coins clinking.

  Raven came back out onto the stage, and that was my cue to go behind the curtain so that he could announce Marcel and the dogs.

  After bowing once, I walked past Raven off the stage.

  Out back, all the members of the group, including Marcel, appeared speechless as I came through the curtain. Then Jade came back to herself.

  “Marcel, go,” she urged, and he ran onto the stage with his dogs barking and yipping at his heels.

  Raven came back, but he wasn’t looking at me. He looked to Jade. “She had them in her hand. Don’t you think?”

  As opposed to being angered by this praise of me, Jade nodded to him eagerly. “Yes. The way she does the voices and actions…It was like watching a play. Oh, and I liked that touch of you introducing her as ‘the lady’. We can use that. Didn’t you say she had some silk gowns in her trunk?”

  “Yes, more than one.”

  “Good.”

  For once, I didn’t mind them speaking of me as if I weren’t there. They were both so pleased that all I could feel was relief.

  Jade turned to me, “Kara, how many stories like that one do you know?”

  “Dozens,” I answered. “Dozens and dozens. I could tell two stories a day for weeks and never tell the same one twice.”

  To my shock, she grabbed my face, kissing the top of my head. Then she beamed at Raven. “We have a new act.”

  * * * *

  Not long after this, the men began taking down the stage.

  But as they worked, Raven passed out coins from the hats, again pouring about half the money into the brown canvas pouch.

  He gave me five of the coins.

  Though I was beyond relieved to have found some way to add to the show, I had no idea how much he’d given me or what the coins might be worth. Moreover, though I knew I should save them, I wanted to do something for the group to show my gratitude. They had fed and housed me when I had been no help to them at all.

  Now, I had something to offer, at least while I was still with them, and I wanted to repay their kindness.

  Going to Raven, I said quietly, “Would you do something for me?”

  “Mmmmmmm?” he asked absently, still overseeing the last of the stage being taken down.

  “I’d like to buy a few things at the market. Will you escort me?”

  “The market?” He blinked and then appeared to actually hear what I’d said. “Oh…of course. I need a few things too.” Turning, he called, “Tannen! Get everyone back and start getting the gear stowed. I’ll be along soon.”

  With that, he offered me his arm and led me into the busy market. I was not wearing my cloak now, and people watched us walk past. A few stopped and told me they had enjoyed the story. I knew enough to simply smile and offer thanks. The cool autumn air smelled of bread, sausages, and perfumed candles. I’d never experienced anything like this.

  In the heart of the market, Raven took out the brown canvas pouch. “I divide half the money between the group, and we save half for supplies, food, upkeep on the wagons, and grain for the horses.”

  Looking toward a stall selling beeswax candles, he said, “I’ll be over there. What do you need to buy?”

  The first thing I wanted was freshly baked bread to share at supper. “Over there,” I said, pointing to a stall with a man selling bread and rolls.

  With a nod, he walked off to purchase candles, and I headed toward the baker.

  The man was about forty years old, with quick, light brown eyes and a beard. He smiled at me, “What can for you?”

  Counting in my head, I pondered how much bread would be needed for everyone. “Five loaves please.” As he readied the bread, I wondered how I might carry my purchases home, for I wanted to find some honey as well. “Do you have a burlap sack I might buy?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He placed all five loaves into the sack, looked at me expectantly, and I realized he wanted me to pay him. Embarrassment flooded through me. I had no idea what a loaf of bread cost or the value of the coins Raven had given me.

  Holding the coins out to show him, I asked, “How much for the five loaves?”

  He started in surprise, furthering my embarrassment, and then said, “Those coins will just about be enough.”

  This was disappointing. I wouldn’t have enough to purchase honey after all.

  “Torrence!” a voice barked from behind me.

  The man’s eyes widened, and I half-turned to see Raven striding toward us.

  “What in the seven hells are you doing?” Raven demanded of the baker.

  “I was just…just…”

  “Just taking advantage.”

  I’d never seen Raven this angry.

  He took a single coin from my hand and gave it to the baker, saying, “You try that again, and I’ll complain to the merchants’ guild and call you out for the cheat you are.”

  At this, the man grimaced and seemed about to spit a retort when Raven grabbed the bag of bread with one hand and put the other on my back, propelling me away from the booth. Only moments before, I’d been happy at the thought of shopping, of buying something with money I’d e
arned. Now I was humiliated.

  Once we were several stalls away, Raven stopped. “How could you have held out your money like that, inviting him to take what he wanted?”

  My humiliation grew, and I spoke barely loud enough to be heard. “I didn’t know how much the bread might cost.”

  “What it costs? How can you not know the price of bread?”

  All the fear and worry from the past few days rose up inside me. “Because I don’t know the price of anything!” I cried loud enough to turn a few heads. “I don’t even know how much money you’ve given me. How could I? These are first coins I’ve ever touched.”

  The remaining anger flooded from his face. “The first coins? Ever?”

  Dropping my gaze, I nodded. “I told you I’d never been off the manor grounds. Where would I need money?”

  For a moment, he didn’t speak, and when I looked up, I saw the same flicker of regret in his eyes that I’d seen earlier.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Are you sorry you brought me?”

  “No. But come on, and I’ll show you what things cost. What else do you need to buy?”

  “Some honey. I wanted to share the bread tonight at supper. In truth, I was hoping that I had enough coins to buy supplies to cook a main dish for supper.”

  He offered his arm again. “If you’re buying for the group, I’ll pay for it. Just show me what you need.”

  Slowly, the afternoon began to brighten again as we walked through the market, choosing ingredients together. Raven took out the brown canvas pouch. He explained what things cost, and showed me coins of different values. Copper coins were worth less, and silver worth more. We bought an urn of honey. Then we bought red lentils, a ham hock, dried parsley, and oregano. The dish I had in mind required onions, but we had those back at camp.

  “Do you think there’s a chance of any late season tomatoes?” I asked.

  “Vegetables are this way,” he said, pointing, “But if we find tomatoes, they won’t be cheap.”

 

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