Magic in Ithkar (25 page)

This enterprise, although financially unsuccessful, kept him busy until they arrived at the gates to the fair. At the gates they fell into line to wait for the customary inspection and the issuance of their fair permits. The shadows were beginning to lengthen when they reached the head of the line. The fair-ward questioned Driss as to the nature of their show, and when he learned that Tonya was their proprietor and that the manipulation of the dolls required spells, he called the wizard-of-the-gate from his silken tent to complete the inspection.

The wizard-of-the-gate was an imposing old gentleman in somber but rich robes who recognized Tonya and greeted her by name.

“Where’s your old rogue of a father, my dear? Too drunk to come himself this year?”

“Father died last winter,” Tonya said.

“Forgive me,” the wizard said. “He was in good health when I saw him last. An essentially good man, he was, if inclined too much to gamble.”

“He went out in a blizzard to feed Lightning, our ox, and was lost between the barn and the house. We found him frozen in the courtyard in the morning.”

“Sad, sad. Still, not too painful a way to die, I’m told. Your doll show is much the same as last year’s, I take it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“No new spells?”

“One or two.”

“Show them to me.”

Tonya took a beautifully crafted little chest of blood-red wood from under the seat of the wagon and opened it with a whispered word. Nested inside, each in a tiny tube labeled with the name of a doll, were rolled scrolls of thin parchment no larger than a thumbnail. On each of them was penned in blue ink a few cabalistic signs and a word or two. Tonya selected one of the dolls, inserted one of the rolled scrolls in a tiny cavity under the doll’s hair, and spoke behind her hand.

“My profound respects, my lord wizard,” she said.

The doll gestured with her tiny hands, her face appeared to smile, and when the speech ended she made a deep, graceful curtsy.

The wizard-of-the-gate smiled and bowed solemnly in return. “Is this one of the new ones?” he said.

“Yes, sir. Father had the spell improved so that she moves her lips when I speak for her. It usually can’t be seen from the audience, I’m afraid.” She removed the scroll from the doll’s head and handed it to the wizard, who examined it and shot a glance at Omz.

“Not one of yours, I’m certain.”

“No, Lofty One,” Omz replied with his eyes cast down.

The wizard-of-the-gate examined a few of the other scrolls, pulled the string that made Dragon snap his jaws, allowed a bright spark to travel from his finger to the tip of Dragon’s horn, and waved them on.

It was full dark when they were at last installed at Tonya’s father’s customary place, and they were obliged to set up their equipment by the light of fish-oil flares. In this they were not alone. The entire fairground glittered with a thousand such lights.

Driss lowered one side of the wagon and rested it upon trestles to make a small stage. The interior of the wagon was hidden by a painted curtain which made the backdrop. Stakes were set out which later would support a canvas fence to contain the morrow’s audience. While this was going on, Tonya placed the doll, Snow Princess, on the stage and began telling passersby, “The Enchanted Doll Show begins tomorrow at noon. One copper for children, three for their parents, and four for those grown-ups whose hearts are still young.” In response to these words Snow Princess waved and threw kisses to the children and curtsied politely to their mothers. At the end of each such invitation, Dragon popped out from behind the curtain and rumbled in Borg’s deepest possible voice, “At noon, remember. Don’t be late!” and snapped his jaws.

When it grew late and bystanders were few, Tonya and Vallo retired behind the curtain inside the wagon. Driss fed Lightning, then rolled in a blanket under the wagon. Omz was given the space between the driver’s seat and the dashboard and gratefully accepted one of Tonya’s blankets. Borg was given a blanket but did not make immediate use of it. He disappeared and returned later to take his place beside Driss, smelling suspiciously like the inside of a wine barrel. Several times during the night pairs of fair-wards passed and repassed, swinging their long, bronze-shod quarterstaves.

Although Borg and Omz were missing for most of the morning, Driss and Tonya were able by good management and much hard work to have the show ready by noon as promised. Borg showed up late enough to avoid most of the physical exertion but at least quickly learned the few lines he was required to speak. Omz, on the other hand, returned earlier but spent a considerable part of his time muttering to himself behind the wagon and making passes in the air. A pair of passing fair-wards suspiciously observed him at this activity for a time but, since nothing whatever seemed to occur because of Omz’s words and gestures, continued on their rounds without comment.

The show itself was a simple one, involving a dragon, who appeared to subsist entirely on a diet of virgins (in an historic era when virgins were fairly common); an overlord, who found this state of affairs not only unseemly but also bad for business; a princess, who had the misfortune to be captured by the dragon and tied to a stake for later consumption; a bold prince, who rescued the princess and converted the dragon to vegetarianism; a little dog for even more comic relief; and various maidens and townspeople.

It was not expected that the noon show would be heavily attended and it was not. But by the time of the evening performance word had gotten about concerning the charm and miniature perfection of the dolls, the ferocity of the dragon and the amusing antics of the little dog, and the last show of the day completely filled the space inside the canvas fence. Borg’s deep and powerful roars and Omz’s surprisingly melodious and varied voices added not a little to the play’s attraction.

It was late when the last show of the evening was over and Tonya counted up the receipts. There was a goodly bag of coppers and even one shining piece of silver. She showed it to Driss.

“A few more of these and we might make it,” she said. “We can’t count on many pieces of silver, though, and unless we can pack in more admissions it will be a close thing by the end of the fair. Do you think we could enlarge the space for the audience?”

“We’d need more canvas to surround a bigger space,” Driss said.

“There’s the awning over the first six rows. You could use that. I’ll help you pick apart the seams.”

“Suppose it should rain?”

“If it rains,” Tonya said, “no one will come at all. We could just fold up the stage and wait for the next day.”

“It’s risky,” Driss said.

“We’ll just have to take the risk against the chance to have a bigger crowd.”

“You sound just like your father, Tonya. You aren’t becoming a gambler, are you?”

“Father gambled on races and dice. This is different. This is betting on the weather. Farmers do it all the time. You’ve nothing against farmers, I hope?”

“While we’re hoping, let’s just hope it doesn’t rain.”

“It mustn’t rain.”

“You worry too much, Tonya. I promise you it won’t rain. We’ll use Omz’s sunshine spell if necessary.”

Tonya giggled. “I’d rather trust your promise than Omz’s spells.” Then, becoming serious, she added, “You shouldn’t make fun of the old man, Driss. One of these days he’ll surprise us.”

“Sometimes I’m afraid he will,” Driss said.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. He’s a little . . . odd, you know. I hope, in his well-meaning way, he doesn’t get us in some sort of trouble.”

“Look who’s worrying now. Go feed Lightning and I’ll prepare us a good hot supper.”

While Driss took care of closing down the show for the night, Tonya put away the coppers in the bottom of the blood-red chest, locking it with a whispered word. Next she fixed a spicy stew over the flame of one of the flares and called the men to supper.

The next morning the awning was sacrificed to make an addition to the screen surrounding the places of the audience. The result was at least ten more seats and they were well occupied during the day and evening performances.

They continued to be filled for the next several days, but then the attendance began to drop off. Many of the people in the immediate neighborhood had seen the show—some of them two or even three times—but the receipts for the sixth and seventh days were lower than on the first.

At the end of the seventh day Driss found Tonya sitting on the wagon’s tailgate, her legs dangling, counting the coppers for the third time. She showed him some figures on a slate.

“If this keeps up, I won’t be able to pay, even if I work as a seamstress or something after the fair until Midwinter Moon. Oh, Driss, what shall we do?”

Driss jumped up on the wagon beside her and put her head against his shoulder. “Please don’t worry so, dear. We’ll think of something. Suppose Borg and I go about in the mornings to tell people about the show?”

“Borg often isn’t here in the mornings and I have the impression he’d keep more people away than he coaxed in. Besides I need you here. Neither Omz nor Vallo is strong enough to do your work.”

Driss was silent for a long moment.

“Tonya,” he said, “do you remember the merchant who paid in silver that first day to admit him and his family?”

“Yes, of course. What about him?”

“His name is Bothro. He’s as wealthy as a flea with his own private dog and he has just dozens of children. Surely among all this horde of little Bothros there must be at least one who was born during fair month. He laughed and enjoyed the dolls like a child himself, if you remember.”

“Hmm. Yes. Although he frowned rather fiercely when Village Girl was turned down by Dragon as inedible.”

“We could leave that part out,” Driss said.

“Just for Bothro? Everyone else seemed to think it was hilarious.”

“Yes, Tonya. Just for Bothro. What I’m thinking is that if we could find out the birthday of one of the children, we could offer to do the show privately for his or her party on that date. Bothro could invite all of his friends and their children as well and we could charge him an arm or a leg or two.”

“We’d have to in order to make up for moving the wagon and missing the proceeds from the other shows of the day. Do you think you could get him to pay enough for that?”

“I’m sure of it. I’ll bet we could earn three days’ receipts.”

“Look who’s gambling now!”

“All right, I’m a gambler, too. Shall we try it?”

“I’ll think about it,” Tonya said.

“While you’re thinking, I’ll find out who has a birthday this month.”

Omz, who had been straining to hear the two young people’s conversation, hobbled up, leaning on his staff.

“Did I hear someone say ’birthday’? I have a little spell—a trifling thing, really—which brings health and prosperity for an entire year if worked on a birthday. May I offer it to you on the birthday in question?”

“Of course, Omz,” Tonya said with a smile. “But it’s neither my birthday nor Driss’s. We could certainly use all the prosperity we can get, if you think it would still work under those circumstances.”

“I’ll have to look that up,” Omz said, and began pulling his robe this way and that to squint at the lettering on it.

Tonya and Driss darted each other a secret smile and Driss went off to feed Lightning and secure the stage for the night while Tonya prepared the evening meal.

After supper Vallo timidly asked if he could have a very special dessert.

“What sort of dessert, dear?” Tonya asked him.

“One of those pink ices the sweetmeat man sells. He says the snow to make it comes from our mountains.”

“I was a bit afraid the sweetmeat seller’s stall was too near. Things like that cost money, you know.”

“But I’ve been working for a whole ten-day, Tonya, and you pay Omz and Borg two coppers a day. I heard you tell them. Aren’t I worth one copper a whole ten-day?”

“The lad has a point,” Driss said.

“All right,” Tonya said. “But what will you put your pink ice in? The man doesn’t give cups away, you know.”

“I could use one of your little bone cups.”

“They’re very old and thin. Promise you’ll be careful with it if I let you have one?’’

Vallo promised, was given his copper, and dashed off at flank speed to the sweetmeat stall. To give him credit, he ate his pink snow with unusual care and neatness. Later, when Tonya was cleaning up the supper things, she took up the cup and almost dropped it because of its unexpected temperature. She wiped the moisture from it and placed it on a shelf. A moment later she found it still moist and was obliged to wipe it a second time.

“I declare, it’s too humid to sleep tonight. I do hope it won’t rain tomorrow.” Smiling to herself, she added, “Driss promised me it wouldn’t, so perhaps it won’t.”

Driss’s promise held good the following day, but attendance at the day’s shows still showed signs of falling off. The count of coppers that night almost made her regret Vallo’s copper for the ice.

The next day in midmorning Driss returned from a foray into the temple precinct with a wide grin on his face and gave Tonya a sudden bear hug.

“Driss, what in the world has come over you?” Tonya said. “Have you discovered a silver mine?”

“Mm. Sort of.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“I discovered that one of the infant Bothros does indeed have a birthday. Better yet, it falls on ten-day next. And best of all, Father Bothro has agreed to pay us twenty-five silver pieces for the show!”

“Wonderful!” Tonya almost shouted and hugged Driss around the waist. “On the start of a ten-day people are at the temple much of the day, so we lose very little by moving the wagon. But however did you get your merchant prince or princely merchant to pay so much? Why, you and Omz can almost let it rain for the rest of our stay! How did you do it?”

“By exerting my manly charm upon Mama Bothro, that’s how. She considers me a fine, handsome young man. She said so.”

“I’m not sure I like that. What’s she look like?”

“Remember Lightning when he was a week old? She weighs about the same and has the same highly intelligent look. Tonya, let’s all eat a pink snow tonight!”