He inclined his torso in a short bow. "You are known to be a person of the highest honor. I will do my very best to fulfill that request." And hope that he could come through.
"I will tell my agent to contact your agent if the sale goes through and a production will be mounted."
Again Johns nodded, radiating gratitude. Which he felt, but damn it, the job and the role seemed as far away as ever.
After the call, to soothe himself, he walked around his property, admiring the results of the labor he and Marti had put in, and perhaps Marti's older female relatives when Johns wasn't looking. By the time he'd made a circuit, he felt calm enough, and rehearsed enough, and determined to contact T'Spindle and tell him about Giniana's problems.
Johns hoped she wouldn't think he betrayed her.
Marti Samphire, freshly scrubbed with gleaming wet hair, arrived promptly at noonbell for their excursion to the Theatrical Guild. The boy wore clothes that had Johns's brows rising and his bones feeling old, since the garments obviously reflected the pre-teen's generational fashion sense. Bright blue trous, red shirt with puffed sleeves like nobles wore, screaming yellow vest with cream embroidery of…stems and blossoms, probably reflecting his family name.
Keeping the glider roof and windows thinned, Johns sped through the streets a little over the limit, enjoying Marti's blissful expression.
Since gliders remained few, Johns parked right in front of the wing of the Druida City GuildHall that housed the Theatrical Guild, and ushered Marti into the impressive building, their bootheels sounding on the marble floors of the two-story entrance.
Since the Theatrical Guild shared space with all the other guilds—merchants and mercenaries and weavers and herbalists—and appearances mattered to the theatrical community, the set designers had created an imposing atrium.
Just walking into the area made Johns stand straighter. As with the first time he walked down this hallway, slightly older than Marti, holding a crumpled slightly-damp application, wonder and pride filled Johns. At that moment, he'd proven to himself and others that he was an actor. He would pursue an acting career.
Now, though he felt the quick upsurge of that initial delight, he kept his face in a casual expression, his stride easy. A few clumps of actors stood around, but Johns knew more would be lounging in the elegant but more comfortable sitting room beyond the atrium.
When Marti tugged on his sleeve to be introduced to this or that female actress—usually voluptuous—Johns obliged. He kept his ears pricked for gossip about Amberose's play, dropped a few idle comments to steer conversations without appearing too interested.
The compliments on his work in Firewalker gratified him, and he heard buzz about upcoming projects, but nothing solid.
As he strode by the closed door of the Actors' Representative's office, he recalled how Ovata Forsythia had used general funds allocated by the Thespian Club to re-activate Giniana's lifetime membership that her parents had begun, paid the whole thing off.
That got him thinking about her childhood and those who should have supported her, financially as well as emotionally. Had her parents been deleterious in that, too? He knew that her mother had drifted from lover to lover who'd paid Verna Winterbloom Filix's bills, perhaps fed and housed both mother and child if he had the room and the means, but what of Giniana's father, Mas? Legally, he would have been obligated to send gilt to support his child.
And Johns figured the easiest way to transfer such gilt from one continent to another would be through the respective Theatrical Guilds. Mas could pay on Chinju and it would be credited to his account, or his wife's for their daughter, here in Druida City on Cambria Continent.
One simple question might ensure this had been done, have Ovata or the Guild accountant verify the child support.
At that moment, Ellis Gardenia, the-actor-turning-counselor, sauntered from the Actors' rep office, a contemplative smile hovering on his lips.
"Hey, Johns." Ellis lifted a hand in greeting,
"Greetyou, Ellis." Johns looked past him to Ovata Forsythia standing in the open doorway of the office, looking after Ellis.
Projecting his voice to only reach Ellis, Johns asked, "Resigning from the Theatrical Guild?"
"Trying to." Ellis rolled his eyes as he joined Johns and Marti. "Ovata convinced me to only downgrade to a subsidiary membership, so if I wanted to return to an acting career, I could. The lady is persuasive."
"That she is," Johns agreed. But she'd been generous in dealing with Giniana at the Thespian Club. Johns could talk to her about Mas Filix and any support he'd made of Giniana.
"I know you," Marti said, frowning up at Ellis. "You were the grovestudy teacher in the viz, The Origin of Centaury, the Boy Celtaroon Killer."
Ellis laughed. "Yes, I was."
Marti slid his gaze to Johns. "And you were the stup character who died in Firewalker."
"That, too," Ellis said amiably.
Johns met Ovata's gaze and respectfully nodded.
Ellis glanced at Johns, then looked down at Marti with an indulgent grin. "Hey, they're casting a new show, Centaury, Further Adventures of the Boy Celtaroon Killer. I know the director, and I think he might like a real boy's opinion on the actors."
Marti gasped. "I love those stories about Centaury! I could help, I could!" He wiggled with excitement.
Ellis met Johns's eyes. "Why don't I take Marti along to the auditions for a while … maybe three-quarters of a septhour?"
Dipping his head in unspoken thanks, Johns said, "Sounds good to me."
"May I, MasterLevel Actor Saint Johnswort?" Marti nearly gushed.
"Sure. We'll meet back here in a septhour, why not?"
Ellis angled toward a tiled narrow hallway and Marti, anticipating him, shot down it.
"Thanks," Johns said. "I don't know that director, and this will be a real treat for Marti. His Flair is for botanics."
Winking, Ellis said, "I know you don't know that director. I've been around longer than you, and you want to talk with the rep."
"Yes." Johns smiled, sincerely. "You'll be a good counselor, Ellis."
"I know that, too." He ambled after a waiting Marti.
MasterLevel actor Ovata Forsythia stepped back from the threshold of her office as Johns strode toward her. Once inside, she closed the door behind him.
"I've been wondering about the financial support Giniana Filix should have had during her childhood," Johns began bluntly.
"Odd you should say that." Ovata took her seat behind her desk and Johns sat, too. "Gossip is going around the Thespian Club and here that FirstLevel Healer Filix might need gilt."
Johns shrugged.
Ovata continued, "And I thought about the Healer and her family, too." Ovata gave a delicate cough. "But I'm not sure I should talk about confidential information." She met his eyes in a significant stare, then glanced away. "It occurs to me that when Healer Filix's father, Mas, went to Chinju, he would have been expected to send money to this guild for his own membership, and he didn't. I looked at his account and it has been inactive for years."
"Since he abandoned his family."
Another study of his person from Ovata. "You know, pursuant to Celtan law, Mas must provide support for his child since he left her before she reached adulthood."
"When she was ten years old, I believe.”
"In Mas's case, I'd expect him to pay such funds to the Theatrical Guild of Chinju and they'd transfer the gilt to the Theatrical Guild here, but Mas Filix's Chinju Theatrical Guild account is also disused."
Johns discovered he ground his teeth. "Interesting. I'd wondered."
"Naturally, Giniana's mother, who was also a lifetime member of the Thespian Club and the Theatrical Guild, should have notified the Guild if such payment from Mas wasn't made. She never did. Her account shows absolutely no activity for even longer than Mas's."
"Huh." More boggling of Johns's mind at Giniana's parents actions … inactions. Red began to seep into his vision, surprising
him. He'd thought he'd been prepared for this news.
Mas hadn't sent enough funds to see Giniana housed and fed and clothed and raised well? Her mother hadn't bothered to demand such support, the gilt due her daughter from her father? Anger sizzled and he felt it rise to flush his skin.
Ovata fixed her gaze on a point above his left shoulder. "I understand that Verna Winterbloom Filix lived with her lovers." Ovata rolled a shoulder. "I didn't know Verna. She was older than I, and she … made choices I would not have."
Johns belatedly remembered Ovata had three children and no current husband herself. From what he recollected, all three of her children were doing very well.
"I wonder about Mas's account," Ovata emphasized.
Johns narrowed his eyes at the woman, heard the sub-text, studied her manner and her body.
"Of course Mas Filix might have send funds to support his daughter to the main GuildHall instead of our Theatrical Guild, but I can't simply request such files from the main GuildHall clerk. Someone," Ovata gave another tiny cough, "with more clout should do so."
Johns blinked.
"I understand you are … interested … in Giniana Filix. Or you wouldn't be here," Ovata added. Her voice took on a persuasive note. "And FirstLevel Healer Filix is the staff Healer for T'Spindle. And you did a favor for T'Spindle a week and a half ago."
He got the idea. Ovata Forsythia wanted him to ask T'Spindle to intervene on behalf of Giniana. He'd already decided to do so, but she gave him some extra information as ammunition. Johns leaned back in his chair. "Tell me, MasterLevel Actor Forsythia, would you, as an independent woman, like a … gallant of yours to interfere in your business? Your financial affairs?"
She pursed her lips. "Perhaps. But I would definitely want my legal due."
"What if you're excessively proud?" Johns had begun to think Giniana held that flaw.
"Ahhh," the actor shook her head. "Youth."
"Perhaps you could speak with T'Spindle …"
But she shrugged and the movement rippled down her body in a sensuality that he manfully ignored.
"It's evident you don't listen to old gossip," she said. "And good for you. But the ancient story regarding … ah … conflict between myself and T'Spindle is true. I lied to him and wronged him. That FirstFamily Lord would not listen to me."
A burst of knowledge of past rumors surrounding Ovata and T'Spindle flashed like a light through Johns.
Lied to him and wronged him, she'd said.
The same underlying attitude Giniana had with Johns's profession.
CHAPTER 26
GINIANA WALKED BACK to her cottage after Healing a broken leg for one of the inside Residence staff. She took care to enjoy the day and the blessings her senses brought her and murmured a prayer of gratitude to the Lady and Lord.
Then her scry pebble drummed in staccato and her pleasant mood instantly evaporated. Palli Willow, D'Willow's assistant called.
Blowing out a hard breath, dread looming like a dark cloud heavy with lightning threatening her, Giniana answered. "Greetyou, Palli."
The woman's lips curved up in a rictus smile. She certainly could use some acting lessons.
"Anything wrong?" Giniana asked, keeping her voice cool and her fears stuffed away. Then she realized she herself acted during daily life, staying calm when patients exhibited panic at wounds or sickness. Yes, she had a professional mask and manner like the other Healers she worked with.
Palli's smile widened, making her look even worse, her cheer more false. She glanced down at a sheet of papyrus and read words quickly and woodenly. "It's exactly two days from the end of the Time Healing Procedure and I am scrying to confirm your FamCat Thrisca will be participating."
"Yes, of course," Giniana stated, but checked her bond with her FamCat and the kitten, both snoozing in her back garden.
"Good. Good." Palli coughed. "About this time we begin receiving calls from people who might have second thoughts about the treatment."
That had never occurred to Giniana. Not many people ducked out of a standard Healing procedure, no matter how long and involved.
The whole Time Experiment Healing session expense was shared by the participants, so when the number dropped, the amount each person had to pay rose. Don't hyperventilate. She could handle this.
"Have any previously scheduled Time Healing Procedure sessions been canceled at the last moment?" she asked, with her own much better serene smile.
Palli's forehead lined. "Yes, of course. The GreatLady can't work for a minimal amount." Palli frowned. "Some participants have actually failed to show up. Very rude. Thus I scry to confirm, as I am so doing."
"Thus," Giniana said. Her mind had gone wild with sparking fear, zooming through all her options for gilt again. She had enough for the procedure if no one dropped out. Thrisca couldn't survive until another session, not through the chill of late autumn or winter.
Palli looked down at her papyrus again, read: "And I am reminding you that we need a final, pre-procedure report from your Healer about your state of health."
"My FamCat and I are stopping by Danith D'Ash, the Animal Healer, on the way to the Time Experiment. The appointment is set."
Palli looked up, flushed. "It's not an experiment."
"The Healers of Celta deem it so, and that's probably why you have dropouts," Giniana replied. "You may mark me down as attending to observe—"
"You may bring only one guest!" Palli snapped.
"—and my FamCat, Thrisca, attending as a participant."
Palli picked up a writestick and slashed at the papyrus. "We'll see you in two days." She ended the scry.
"Unfortunately," Giniana muttered. She wobbled to the next bench along the path, one set in a beam of sunlight but surrounded by trees. Lifting her face, she closed her eyes, let the heat caress her face. She was so weary, and she'd stopped working whatever job she could get, relaxed and played with Klay.
Her absolute best option would be to accept D'Willow's offer of employment as the Willow Healer, easiest. And Giniana could rest these last two days, not worry about a last-minute session cancellation.
But she loved her cottage, her sense of independence, and working for the easy-going Spindles.
So she prayed and hoped for the best. And pulled out her scry pebble and let all the HealingHalls know she could take shifts.
After Johns strolled to the board with the postings of upcoming shows—few at this moment and none suitable for him--he checked that his name was on the books as wanting a role after the end of the month. Both antique procedures hearkened back to ancient traditions.
He spoke to other actors, those in productions and not, fulfilling his secondary goal of seeing and being seen. He stayed friendly and affable, projecting a manner that he'd be easy to work with. No brooding here, he'd save that privately and for later.
And yes, he acted a bit, and would have felt the need to be truly sincere if Giniana had been by his side, and was glad she wasn't. Eventually she'd see this particular slight mask of his persona, but he'd rather keep it to himself now, and it fit comfortably.
Several minutes later, Johns collected an enthusiastic Marti Samphire. The boy burbled about his experience as a casting consultant all the drive home, as Johns once more turned over options in his mind.
It had taken him a long time to decide to interfere in Giniana's business, in her personal finances, but everything he learned made him think that her draining herself in Flair, energy and gilt when she had other options was wrong.
And the new information regarding her father's lack of any support increased Johns's determination to help her, and do that indirectly since she wouldn't accept gilt from him. Not that he knew what the time Healing would cost, but anything provided by a FirstFamily Lord or Lady tended to be fantastically expensive. And messing with time …
Johns left Marti at the gate of the Samphire property, cranked open his own sticking greeniron gates with Flair, parked in front of the House and marched up the
steps to pace through his home.
Should he talk to Giniana about this? Probably, but he had no solid information that her father had been delinquent—Mas Filix might have made arrangements with the Druida City GuildHall or a bank.
An itch told him to contact her, anyway, and he put a scry through and reached her message cache, which made him think she might be working, again, sapping her resources. He didn't want to discuss her father with her in a series of messages. Better in person, but at least face-to-face in a scry. So Johns left a message for her to call regarding an important matter.
Now, should he scry or pay a personal visit to T'Spindle?
If Johns had wanted to speak with T'Spindle on his own behalf, he'd have made an appointment with the FirstFamily Lord's assistant, at the lord's convenience, shown up a little early, well-groomed and in his best clothes.
This wasn't for himself.
So scry the great man himself, ask to speak to him personally.
But Johns must ensure he made a good impression, because the guy produced plays and could shoot Johns's career to the top, if the GrandLord wanted. Definitely groom—waterfall and shave again—and dress in his best and most fashionable clothes. Also … Johns stared around his sitting room.
The FirstFamilies were that, First. Their ancestors had funded the starships and the journey from Earth to Celta. Had paid for the ships and the generational crew. The FirstFamily Lords and Ladies had purchased the right to sleep in cryonics tubes for the long trip. They'd also been the best in Flair on Earth, and had developed it since. They'd been the leaders from the moment they'd stepped onto the new planet's soil, four centuries and seven years ago.
But the St. Johnswort family had developed within the first century, as herbalists providing folk with mixtures, tinctures, potions. They’d become merchants. They’d claimed this land and built this big house at the turn of the second century. His family was old, too.
Even if he was the first actor, even if his family had declined in influence and wealth, he had the pedigree and blood of a long-established family, one respected by the FirstFamilies.
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