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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Aug 3, 2005 14:21:37 GMT -5
Another story... I'm already quite a way into this, and thought it was time for some feedback.
Some explanation. This story is set in an alternate universe which I created, and started off as a prequel to one I'm already writing but then evolved until I preferred it, so I decided to write this one first (take THAT, George Lucas) Just so you know, Meniclaraza is a word I made up. I like it anyway ;D
It starts off a bit slow - at the beginning, it's based on the performances at my drama club - but picks up later... hope you all like it and, as always, be honest.
And yes, the character Becki is based on my sister.
Meniclaraza
As night fell, the fires started. Bonfires flared into life around the field, flames bursting out of nothingness and dancing up into the sky. Golden sparks rained down on the field, illuminating the Nomafyas moving between them; a flash of brightly coloured cloth here, a gleam of mufya or skysilver there. On the wind floated the scent of spices and perfumes, promising a night of entertainment and exotic beauty to come.
The audience was already assembling at one end of the field, the important nobles sitting on the chairs and others just sitting on the ground. Nomafya traders moved amongst the crowds, selling jewellery or clothing, or warm food and drink to have during the performance.
Ada was watching all this through the door of the caravan which she shared with her sister and the Mola family. She never got tired of the magic of it; although most of the older women of the tribe said that it did eventually lose its charm. “You wait till you get older,” they would tut as they did their washing, “You’ll want to get away and settle down somewhere, not all this travelling around, having people gawking at you every night.”
“I never will,” Ada would insist fiercely, “I’ll be in the shows for all my life. Even when I get as old and wrinkly as you.” And the women would laugh and flick water at her.
She scanned the crowd. Tonight was a special night – they had received word that the king of Fallamor himself was coming to see it, making a brief stop in his tour of the kingdom. Fallamor was thick with rebellion; small villages were rising up against the king, attacking nobles’ houses and refusing to pay taxes. This had been of no major consequence, but recently some villages had started to band together and attack some of the cities, calling for a new government. To try and allay this, the king was touring the kingdom, visiting some of the unsettled towns and talking to the rebel leaders.
She thought she could see the royal party; a group of people more richly dressed than the normal farmers and few nobles that would come and watch them. Excitement stirred in her. They were meeting the king after the performance.
“Ada! Come here!” Ada turned from the scene outside and looked back into the caravan. Her sister was half-behind the curtain at the back, waving frantically at her to come. She closed the door and negotiated her way through the cluttered furniture of their home and ducked behind the curtain to the small dressing area.
“What is it?” she asked, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the brighter light.
“I can’t do my dress up – there’s some weird fastenings or something.” Becki turned round and pulled her long red hair out the way. Ada fiddled with the laces, pulling them as tight as she could and threading them through the hooks.
“Is it a new one?” she asked, admiring the way the velvet hung and glimmered in the candlelight.
“Yes. Present from a merchant in the last town we visited. He said he was most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and deserved the most beautiful dress,” said Becki proudly, adjusting it and looking in the mirror.
“Just like all the others,” tutted Ada, tying the laces into a large bow at her neck, “Goes to show there’s not one sensible person left in this country.”
“Watch it!” said Becki, smacking her sister on the arm and then arraying her hair around her shoulders. Ada smiled, saying nothing, and turned to look at herself in the mirror.
She had none of her sister’s exotic beauty: instead of long flowing red hair, she had short thick black hair that stayed the same no matter what she did to it. Instead of startling green eyes, she had plain brown ones. Sighing, she took some of the different coloured sticks from the box and started to draw the traditional design onto her face, swirls flowing from the corners of her eyes and curling over her forehead and her cheeks.
A man stuck his head round the door. “Girls, it’s time!” he called, and ran on to the next caravan. Becki and Ada hurried out of the caravan and up the field, skirting around the edges, careful to keep out of the firelight. All of the other Nomafya performers had moved out of the light as well, keeping just inside the shadows, invisible to the audience. Ada could hear their conversation dying down and creaks as they took their seats.
Silence settled on the field. No Nomafyas were to be seen amongst the fires, and the audience waited eagerly for the evening to begin. Suddenly the fires exploded in purple and green sparks, sending flares a hundred pars into the air, drawing an admiring gasp from the audience. Ada looked at their faces, illuminated by the glows and shining with excitement, and smiled. Tonight would be good.
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Aug 3, 2005 14:22:49 GMT -5
A moment of silence, time for the audience to grow even more eager, and then another fire flared in the centre of the field; this one seemingly from nowhere, and showering gold and silver sparks on the crowd. From it appeared a young man dressed in red and gold, a large grin on his face, who bent in a sweeping bow to the applause of the crowd. He spoke loudly, his clear voice echoing around the field so that everyone could hear him.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls – your majesty-” he added with another elaborate bow towards the royal party, “Welcome to Nomafya Night, an evening of marvels, mystery and magic.” The boy held out a hand in front of him, and clapped the other one to it. As he lifted the hand quickly away again, flames flew from the outstretched hand and spiralled up into the air, and vanished in a puff of smoke. Applause erupted again, and the boy bowed once more.
“The Nomafyas have existed for hundreds of years,” he continued, in a slightly more serious tone, causing an awed hush to fall on the audience as they listened intently, “Legends say that we were first formed by a princess who, on the night of her arranged marriage to a terrible tyrant, ran away with a servant boy she loved.”
Ada mouthed the words along with him. This was how the evening began – a suitable tale of love and adventure to get the audience into the mood. They were already settling back in their chairs, smiles on their faces. “Saro’s got them eating out of the palm of his hand,” whispered a man standing behind them, “His father must be proud.”
“The princess and the servant boy travelled the land, never able to stop, for she was being pursued by the tyrant who she had been intended to marry,” continued Saro, audience hanging onto his every word, “They would stop in towns to earn money; the servant boy would play his cantata while the princess danced. More young people joined them, rich and poor, all trying to escape the boredom of every day life. Soon, the Nomafyas were best renowned entertainers in all the islands – and they still are!”
The audience laughed and clapped, cheering loudly. The boy grinned and threw out his arms. The fires leapt higher, and the drums started. Becki winked at Ada and ran off to join her dancing troupe. Ada watched slightly enviously as she and the other dancers linked hands and sashayed from the shadows into the firelight, the fabrics of their dresses shining in the glow from the flames, casting shadows on the ground which twisted and danced on the grass even more erratically than the dancers themselves, making the audience applaud even more loudly.
“Ladies and gentlemen – the Meniclaraza!” announced Saro, bowing to the crowd and moving aside. The dancing girls, about fifteen of them, stood in a circle facing outwards. Their dark hair fell over their faces, shielding them from view.
The drums beat faster, and the sound of cantatas and fidais joined them, playing a lively, mysterious tune. The girls stood completely still, waiting; suddenly the fires flared upwards again, and, as one, they looked up, and started to dance.
The audience watched, spellbound, as the girls whirled around, now fast, now slow. Their movements and the floating of their veils and skirts were almost hypnotic. The Meniclaraza was the traditional dance of the Nomafyas, and what had made them famous; legend said that it was created by the daughters of the princess and the servant boy, and had been unaltered for generations.
It symbolized everything about the lifestyles of the Nomafyas. The dancers were never still, showing how they moved from place to place, never resting; their movements were quick and light, like the flickering of flames, but then slow and elegant, suggesting a deeper strength and wisdom behind the wandering tribe.
Ada watched her sister in envy. She was too young to be part of the main dancing troupe, but she doubted she would ever be. Two left feet, that’s what her sister said. While her sister was beautiful and elegant in her movements, she was clumsy and always looked confused. It seemed that amongst the Players was the best place for her.
“Ada!” hissed one of the older women, beckoning her over. Ada reluctantly looked away from the dance and ran over the grass to join the other Players gathered around the lantern. They were mainly boys and girls younger than her, but some her own age who, like her, hadn’t found another place in the night’s entertainment..
“Now that everyone’s here…” said the woman reproachfully, “The King has especially requested a performance of ‘The Seven Sisters’. Now, girls…” She looked at them by the pale light given off by the lantern. “Gemna’s off dancing now-”
“She’s become too good for us,” said Ede, and everyone tittered.
“All too true,” sighed the woman, shaking her head, “So we’ll need a new Meniya – Efpraxia, do you think you can handle it?”
“Handle it??” said Efpraxia in a squeaky voice, making everyone giggle again. She cleared her throat. “Um, yeah, I can do it. Sure,” she said seriously, but her face broke into a large excited smile.
“Good,” said the woman, “So… Ada, can you take Efpraxia’s?”
“Uh… sure!” said Ada in surprise. She’d never been asked to play one of the sisters before – with her short hair, she normally she played one of the king’s soldiers.
“Good,” beamed the woman, “You all know what to do? Wonderful. You’re performing after the fire-eaters. Go and get ready.”
Ada ran to the Wardrobe Tent, where she was given her costume – the traditional plain black dress of the Nomafya Players, with a skirt which flared out when you span round. Quickly pulling it over her head, almost getting stuck in it in her excitement, she ran back to the side of the performing green. The dance was nearly over; the girls span faster and faster around each other, the audience following their every move. The boys had joined them now, occasionally catching them in their arms, and throwing them up into the air, and catching them effortlessly in one seamless movement. It didn’t seem like there were different dancers, but just one flowing and twisting shape.
“Hey,” she heard someone whisper next to her. She turned round and saw Phyl, a boy in the Players who normally took the main parts. He’d already had two black, arching eyebrows drawn on his forehead, and Ada couldn’t keep from laughing.
“Oh fine,” he said in mock annoyance, “I come over here to wish you good luck-”
“Sorry!” she said, fighting to suppress her giggles; they were getting glares from people, and ‘hush’ noises. “It’s just that make-up – it’s wonderful.”
“I know,” said Phyl, “Makes me look rather dashing, doesn’t it?”
“Oh yes,” agreed Ada, “You ought to keep it like that all the time. You’d have all the girls after you.”
Phyl laughed, but quickly fell silent under the accusing glares of the elder performers. “Good luck,” he whispered, “Playing a ten-year-old… must be all your dreams come true,” he added with a smile, and hurried off towards the Wardrobe Tent before Ada could hit him.
Again.... Phyl is based on Phil at Drama... am probably re-doing all these names later. It was late, OK?
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Aug 3, 2005 14:26:38 GMT -5
I warn you now - this section has their performance. I decided earlier that traditionally all the Nomafya plays were in verse - it seemed like a nice idea before I realized I'd have to write the thing. Poetry is not my best subject, but it's supposed to be over-the-top and everything...
At last, the dance came to an end; the boys lifted all the girls into the air, who outstretched their arms to the heavens, and they suddenly froze. The audience burst into the loudest applause yet, some jumping to their feet. The dancers did not acknowledge the applause, but melted into the shadows amongst the fires, as if they had never been.
Saro stepped out in front of the crowd again. “Ladies, gentlemen, calm down,” he called, “You’ve still got an entire evening to go, and we don’t want you cheering yourselves hoarse yet – how will you tell all your friends about us?”
The audience laughed, and settled back down again. Ada smiled and adjusted her dress excitedly. Saro introduced the magicians – or, as he put it, ‘sorcerers from the Farthest Islands, banished for playing with nature’s rules’; the young children doing their own little dance, ‘cherubs fallen from the skies’; and the fire-eaters, ‘lords of the flame, masters of the infernos’. As the fire-eaters spat their last great clouds of flame into the air, producing one last cheer from the audience, Ada and the other Players assembled.
The fire-eaters vanished like all of the other performers, leaving Saro in the field, large grin still in place on his face, as though he was having the most fun out of all of them. “Now, my wonderful, amazing audience, by the art and skills of the Nomafya Players, we will see back into the past and view the extraordinary tale of ‘The Seven Sisters’ – the seven daughters of the Princess and the Servant boy.”
The audience started clapping again before Saro even bowed. With one last parting smile, he scampered off the field, doing a somersault as he left. The cantatas started playing, a merry and joyful tune. Swallowing nervously and taking a deep breath, Ada linked hands with the girls in front of and behind her, and skipped onto the green with them. All seven of the girls laughed and giggled, and sang little songs, and danced round in a circle. When the applause subsided, Efpraxia broke away from the chain, and stood in front of the audience. Smiling widely, she spoke in a clear voice.
“Seven sisters are we, full of joy, Daughters of a princess and a servant boy, Going through life, hand in hand, Doomed and destined to travel the land.”
The audience applauded wildly again. Another one of the girls broke free from the chain, and danced in front of the audience. She was only seven, but had already been taken into the Players because of her liveliness and loud voice.
“The youngest am I, just in my fifth year, But full of courage and with no fear!”
she proclaimed, setting her face into a stubborn pout. The audience laughed and clapped again, but quickly quieted again when the next girl came from the ring.
“I’m next in line, with golden hair, Gay, light-hearted, and without a care!”
It was Ada’s turn. Pushing nerves aside, she skipped forwards, not grinning as widely as the other two but looking at the audience with bright eyes.
“My years under the sun may only be ten, But my brains match those of many men!”
she announced. The audience clapped and cheered. With a suddenly singing heart, Ada skipped aside and stood next to the three girls who had gone before.
Next, two identical girls skipped from the ring. They were as old as Ada, and usually danced for the night’s entertainment; but whenever the Seven Sisters was performed, they were called upon to play the twins. They called out in unison,
“Not only are we kind, full of virtue and nice, But because we’re twins, you get it twice!”
The audience laughed and clapped again as the two span round each other, and scurried over to the others. As the last girl from the ring stepped forwards, the audience immediately fell silent, eager to hear about this last one.
“You may value girls for their beauty not braun, But hurt my sisters, and I’ll take you on!”
she shouted, holding up a fist. The audience stared in shock for a moment, but then broke out laughing once more and clapped. The girl went over to the others, and, as reunited sisters, they all hugged each other. Efpraxia stepped forwards, and said in a loud voice,
“The eldest am I, and these sisters are mine, First, the courageous Ellinine, Second, the bright and beautiful Shari, Third, with intelligence, our little Mari, Fourth are the twins Polli and Tema, Fifth is the strong-willed incorrigible Biyema, Finally there’s me, in charge of this lot: Meniya, the first whom daring begot. I watch over them like a guiding star, Apart, we’re lost; together, we’ll go far.”
The girls all linked hands and started skipping around in a circle again as the audience broke into their loudest applause yet. The tune was still bright and gay, and the girls all sang happily.
But then Phyl swept onto the performance green, now clad in purple with a black cloak. Hands planted on his hips, he proudly proclaimed to the audience,
“I am the King of all this land But I failed to win their mother’s hand So this clever plan came into my head - I will carry off one of her daughters instead!”
He cackled loudly, and the audience booed, getting into the spirit of it. Several other boys, all as wickedly made-up as him, came out of the darkness into the firelight, pretending to be riding ambrors. Turning to them, Phyl said heartily,
“Ah, my loyal men, wait close at hand, And then seize the girl on my command!”
The audience booed loudly again, but laughed as well, enjoying themselves. Ada fought to keep back a smile and not look at the boys, and kept skipping around with her fellow sisters. He put his finger to his lips, urging the audience to be silent, and crept over to the dancing girls, talking as he did.
“So many, so fair, how do I choose? But my men are waiting; no time to lose.”
That was Efpraxia’s cue. Smiling briefly at the others, she broke away, and wandered away from the skipping ring. Phyl crept after her, in exaggerated tiptoe steps. He stopped when close to her, and turned to the audience, arching one eyebrow deviously, making them laugh even more.
“Of course! The eldest! A copy of her mother, She must be mine; I will settle for no other.”
The audience booed louder than ever, and the ‘King’ glared at them, as though displeased. Ada had to fight even harder to keep from smiling. Phyl was just such a good performer. He waved at the soldiers, who crept around behind the dancing girls towards ‘Meniya’, saying,
“We’re the king’s men, for him we fight, Full of muscles – but not too bright.”
The audience laughed again, but it was slightly stifled this time – they were eager to see what happened next.
Meniya was wandering alone, looking around, and said softly to herself – but so that everyone could hear it –
“Do I really want a travelling life? Full of excitement, but full of strife…”
She sighed, and looked up at the sky. The soldiers and the king crept up behind her.
A girl in the audience could no longer contain herself. “Meniya! Watch out!” she shrieked, almost in tears, making the audience laugh again. Efpraxia jumped slightly, but quickly concealed it, and said,
“Perchance, did I hear a voice on the air? Maybe I did – but there’s no-one there…”
Phyl waited just long enough for the audience’s chuckles to die down again and their anticipation to rise, and then leapt forward in front of Meniya, and shouted,
“Now, men, the trap has been laid; Come forth, and help me seize this maid!”
Efpraxia span round and looked suitably terrified and shocked; the boys sprung forwards and grabbed onto her. Ada and the other girls span round and shrieked as they saw their ‘sister’ be lifted into the air, and carried away by the soldiers.
Phyl did not run away from them, but stayed to shout a parting shot at the girls.
“Farewell, ladies! Should your mother enquire, Who captured your sister in such fine attire, Tell her to look back into her past, And that this visit was not my last!”
With another evil cackle, he swept his cloak behind him and strode off after his soldiers, leaving Ada and the other girls acting suitably panicked.
“Who was that man?”
“Where has he gone?”
“He has taken our sister!”
“What can be done?”
“Is that not clear? We must give chase! Mother will be distraught without seeing her face!”
said ‘Biyema’ fiercely.
“But the king is strong, and has soldiers too!”
said Tema, and all the girls cried together,
“Help us, someone, what can we do?”
“Fear not!” shouted another voice. The audience gasped and cheered as a boy leapt from one of the trees beside the field, illuminated by firelight as he soared over the grass towards the girls, holding out his cape like wings. He landed without stumbling, and shot a dazzling smile at the audience.
“Fear not!” he said again, “For I am here! I will save your sister dear! For I have also loved your sister, But have been away; how I have missed her. And then to return, and find her gone! I will do whatever has to be done To get her back; fight the army if needed But I hope my threats to the king will be heeded For while to save your sister, I would slay many a man, I avoid violence and bloodshed where I can. Remember, kids, violence is wrong," he added to the audience in a serious voice.
“Hurray! Hurray!” cheered the girls, and the audience joined in. True, the boy, Divor, had only a wooden sword, and the most extensive battle he had been in was with Efpraxia about who got to take Cailler the ambror out on Elesdays for a ride; but, in the eyes of the audience, he was a hero, even if just for that night.
“But who are you? Our sister has never Spoken of you to us – not ever,”
said Ada curiously. Divor smiled, slightly sadly, and said,
“My life is just as unsettled as yours, My soul is bound to unceasing chores, Endlessly travelling from place to place, Only finding peace in your sister’s face. I met her on the isle of Hespera Having just faced an unspeakable terror Which I will not describe; but suffice it to say That I have loved her since that day. She bandaged my wounds, and was so fair To her beauty other girls cannot compare. I returned today from a far-off land Having ended my trials, to ask for her hand For my battles are never-ending, you see, But I will face them better if she is with me.”
“Ahhhh,” sighed the audience happily. The sadness left Divor’s face, and he pulled out his sword, and held it to the sky.
“By the elements of world, time and light, I swear, I will not lay aside my fight, I do not care what I have to do; I will return your sister to you!”
The audience got to their feet, cheering and applauding more eagerly than the girls in the performance. Ada smiled, relieved that she was now allowed to do so because she couldn’t have suppressed it for much longer. “Forward!” shouted Divor, and he and the girls all marched forwards, bending in a loop and vanishing into the shadows between the fires. In the shadows, they could move to anywhere on the field without being seen, and emerge from another, as if by magic.
When looking back afterwards, Ada remembered very little of the rest of the performance – it was all one bright, flame-lit blur, but she remembered smiling a lot. The rest of the play was in a similar over-the-top exciting manner – the six other sisters and Divor tracked down the King and Meniya in time to stop the marriage, Divor fought hand-to-hand with the King while the sisters dealt with the soldiers, finally slaying him and marrying Meniya himself, and leaving for Hespera with her. As the two of them kissed, and the sisters’ cheers were drowned out by those of the audience, fireworks shot into the sky, lighting it with shining red and gold sparks, and the rest of the performers came onto the field to take their bows.
They all lined up, Efpraxia and Divor in the centre, Efpraxia still wearing a veil, and bowed to the audience, who were all clapping and cheering themselves hoarse. Ada couldn’t stop smiling, and her stomach felt as though it was soaring; she never got tired of this, despite having performed at least three times a week for the past thirteen years of her life.
So the night's entertainment is over. Seems like a long beginning, but the actual story picks up next. Just tell me what you thought of it so far.
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Post by reasonably_crazy on Aug 3, 2005 16:47:23 GMT -5
OOh, it's very good! The verse was very well done I thought; It was perfect for the mood you created. Preformances are SUPPOSED to be overy-dramatic, that's why it's called Drama.
PERFECT. Can't wait for more!
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Aug 4, 2005 5:29:04 GMT -5
Wow, thanks!!! *happy grin* *warm fuzzies* There was me getting slightly panicky that everyone would hate it.
Oooh... better put more up soon...
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Post by reasonably_crazy on Aug 4, 2005 12:06:16 GMT -5
Noooo! I liked it a lot!
Please do update, I likey. ^.^
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Aug 5, 2005 6:08:09 GMT -5
The clapping went on; the Nomafyas smiled and bowed again. After a few seconds, they turned and walked off the field, and immediately started talking excitedly to each other about the performance. Ada sought out Becki and threw her arms around her. “Well done!” she said, “I was watching the dance. It was great!”
“What about you? I didn’t know you were going to play Mari!” said Becki, eyes shining in excitement, “You did really well!”
“Thanks,” said Ada, reddening and smiling, “I didn’t know either – it was because Gemna’s dancing now.”
“Oh yes… all grown up,” grinned Becki, “It’ll be your turn soon!”
“Hey, Becky,” said Saro, coming up behind her and smiling. Becky turned and her face lit up as Saro whispered something in her ear, and she blushed slightly.
“See you later, Ada,” she said, still smiling, and walked off a little way into the crowd hand in hand with Saro. Ada watched them go, the smile on her face lessening slightly.
“People!” shouted Hollus, the leader of the Nomafyas, clapping his hands to get their attention. Immediately everyone fell silent and turned to listen. “Well done for the performance, you did yourselves proud! The King himself sends his congratulations to you all, and wishes to meet with all of you. So if you can all go back out onto the field and line up in your performance order...”
Talking excitedly, the Nomafyas hurried back onto the grassy field. Ada quickly found her fellow Players and stood in line with them, between Phyl and the little girl who had played Ellinine. Looking up the line, she saw the King already making his way down, shaking people’s hands and saying a few chosen compliments or comments. She saw him meet Becki, and shake her hand vigorously, and whisper something to her which made her laugh and redden.
“Oooh, exciting this, isn’t it?” whispered Phyl in her ear, “What to ask first… What are your plans for the rebel crisis? What really goes on in Hespera? Is your daughter seeing anyone?”
Ada laughed. “Why not all of them?”
“That’s an idea…”
As the King came closer, they gradually fell silent in respect and anticipation. Ada saw that he had several important looking ministers. One of them caught her eye; a man who was bald but didn’t look old, and with a neatly shaved beard and strong black eyebrows. She didn’t know why he caught her attention, but when he looked up at her, there was something in his eyes that startled her. He looked away almost immediately, and Ada was left unsure of what she had actually seen.
Eventually the King reached the Players, and shook all their hands, congratulating them on a wonderful performance. “I hear from one of the men that this was your first night as the lead?” he said to Efpraxia, who reddened and nodded, an self-conscious smile on her face. “Don’t look so embarrassed, you were very good,” he said with a laugh, “Who do you normally play?”
“Mari,” mumbled Efpraxia.
“Ah! So who was playing her today?”
“Ada here was, your Majesty!” called Phyl, shoving Ada forward, never one for subtlety. Ada, blushing furiously, tried to go back to her place in the line without being seen, but the King had already come up to her.
“Oh yes, I remember now,” he said, smiling warmly, shaking her hand again, “Very passionate speech at the end – well done. Do you like acting?”
“Um,” said Ada, wishing she could be more articulate, “Yes. I do, I really do,” she added.
“That’s lovely,” said the King, “Well, I’ll be watching your career with interest. And you played little Ellinine, didn’t you?” he asked the little girl at Ada’s side, crouching down in front of her so that he could look straight into her face. The girl nodded silently. “You were very good,” he said, “Reminded me of my daughter – she would have loved to have seen this play.” The little girl didn’t reply, but turned deep scarlet and buried her face in Ada’s skirt.
“And – ah! The evil king!” continued the King, straightening up and seeing Phyl with his dastardly black eyebrows, “My compliments, young sir, you were magnificently evil.”
“Thank you, your majesty,” said Phyl with a small bow, “Not that I had to act much, I’ve always considered kidnapping Efpraxia…” The King laughed loudly as Efpraxia gasped, mortified, and shot him an evil look.
“Your majesty, we ought to be leaving soon,” murmured the bald minister into the King’s ear.
“Yes, yes, alright, Mantio,” said the King with a sigh, “So sorry, I would like to stay talking with you young people all night. If you ever come by Elesdon, make sure you come to the palace – I’m eager to see some of these other plays of yours. And good luck,” he added to Phyl, “Let me know if you succeed!”
“I’m sure I will, your majesty,” said Phyl with a grin, “I just have to find a very big net.”
The King laughed again, said goodbye to the Players and moved further up the line, walking faster now with Mantio’s reproachful stares in his back. As soon as they were out of earshot, Efpraxia strode up to Phyl and hit him. “You EVIL boy – how could you SAY that?” she shrieked.
“Ow! Effy!” said Phyl in a wounded voice, “How do you know that it wasn’t true? That my heart doesn’t yearn for you, that my soul doesn’t pine for you?”
“I don’t care if it does! You just – you – aaargh!” Efpraxia seemed unable to come up with the words to properly convey her anger towards Phyl, and instead stormed away towards the tents.
“Oh dear, is she angry at me?” said Phyl.
“Possibly a little,” replied Ada, shaking her head and smiling.
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Aug 5, 2005 6:09:58 GMT -5
The celebrations after another successful performance were still going strong in the early hours of the morning. All of the Nomafyas gathered around one large boyfriend in the centre of the field and laughed, joked and sang until the stars were starting to fade and the moon approached the horizon. Much to their surprise, the King decided to stay and talk with them and postpone continuing his journey until the following day. Ada sometimes turned to look at him talking to the elders of the clan, laughing longer and louder than many of them.
“Ada, can you go and collect some more firewood?” asked Mrs Mola, the mother of the family whose caravan she and Becki shared, “The pile’s getting a little short, and I have a feeling these people won’t be going to bed any time soon.”
“I know,” said Ada, getting to her feet, “Divor and Phyl just produced several new casks of wine, and old Caco’s just got his guitar out…”
“Oh dear,” said Mrs Mola, shaking her head and feeding in some of the remaining branches to keep their side of the fire burning bright, “And who’s going to have to cook breakfast for them all in the morning, when they’re retreating to their caravans clutching their heads? Well, it won’t be Hollus, I can tell you that.”
“Won’t be Becki either, by the looks of it,” said Ada with a grin, looking at her sister who seemed to be deeply involved in conversation with Saro, her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes shining brightly.
Mrs Mola tutted, but smiled as widely as Ada. “We’ll be hanging up the sunberry garlands before long…”
Ada laughed, but suddenly felt a stir of unease. What is Becki did marry Saro? She’d seen them together more and more lately, but hadn’t really thought seriously about what she would do if they got married… Becki would move into Saro’s caravan with his family until he built one of their own, she supposed, and would start a family. She tried to suppress the feelings of sadness that formed in the pit of her stomach when she imagined living with the Mola family alone, and tried to feel happy for her sister; but as lovely as the Mola family were to them, Becki was actually her family and also her best friend. She couldn’t imagine sleeping in the caravan without being able to look over and see her sister asleep on the bunk opposite, and see her red hair fluttering in front of her face as she breathed.
She quickly walked away from the campfire into the woods to get the firewood, trying to chase all the feelings away. “They’re not even engaged yet,” she muttered firmly to herself, “You’re jumping to conclusions…”
Most of the firewood on the edge of the forest had already been gathered for the bonfires at the beginning of the night, so she had to go in deeper to find branches on the ground. Nomafyas traditionally never cut down living trees to make their trademark bonfires, believing it unfair to kill something living just to glory in its death.
She found some branches quite a way in; when she turned around, she could still see the firelight dancing at the edge of the woods. She quickly unrolled the blanket and harness she had brought with her to take it back and started loading it with branches.
On her way back to the blanket with an armful of branches, she thought she heard a noise to her right. It sounded like a growl. She slowed her walk, heart pacing, peering into the trees, trying to see if there was an animal there. It was probably nothing, but it might be a ferox. She heard nothing, and calmed down. But having taken her eyes off the path, her foot caught in a tree root; she tripped, sending her sprawling to the ground. She landed heavily on the branches and felt them jab into her chest, knocking all the wind out of her.
She lay still, gasping, trying to get her breath back. One of her arms under the branches was throbbing painfully, and her foot was aching where it had been twisted in the root. She felt something warm on her forehead; reaching up with her free hand, she felt wetness there, and when she took the hand away she saw the fingers were now covered in blood. She winced at the sight, and started to try to get to her feet.
“-still don’t see what’s so important-”
Ada immediately froze when she heard voices approaching to her right. Raising her head slightly, she could just see through the bush on that side to see two men walking in her direction, surprisingly close considering she hadn’t heard them coming beforehand. She recognized one of them as Mantio, the bald minister she had seen before, and the other as the King’s personal adviser Bastus. Mantio was looking extremely concerted about something, glancing about as though looking for people who might overhear, but Bastus looked slightly confused.
“Why have you dragged me out here?” Bastus was saying, looking around at the woods with a vaguely baffled expression on his face, “I was just having a very nice conversation with one of those dancing girls, very pretty thing-”
“We don’t want to be overheard,” muttered Mantio.
Hate to leave it there, but now the plot is kicking in.... what do you think of it so far?
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Post by reasonably_crazy on Aug 5, 2005 12:28:42 GMT -5
You left us hanging, KAtie dear... That's not nice.
This is really quite good... Update soon!
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Aug 5, 2005 12:30:34 GMT -5
Weeeelll.... if I'd left it hanging any later, then you would hate me even more, and if I'd left it hanging earlier, you would have said, "WHAT? That's a FEEBLE update! What sort of plot development is that - oh dear, she tripped! CALAMITY CALAMITY!"
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Aug 8, 2005 5:47:29 GMT -5
Ada remained frozen still. She had considered getting up and showing herself to be there, but something about this conversation sounded extremely secret, and she would be very embarrassed to reveal herself now. She could get into trouble. She stayed still, praying that they wouldn’t come her way, and decided to pretend to have knocked herself unconscious if they did. Luckily, they stopped just a little way away from the bush, so that Ada could see exactly what was happening, but they couldn’t see her unless they crouched down and looked beneath the branches.
Mantio glanced around one last time, and then turned round looking visibly more relaxed, as though satisfied they were alone. “We’re here to meet the contact I told you about.”
“Ah,” said Bastus, comprehension dawning, and then frowned. “Rather odd place, isn’t it? Why not in town?”
“Our contact is particularly concerned about not attracting attention,” replied Mantio, eyes occasionally still darting around, “He ought to be here shortly…”
“Are you – ah – sure we can trust him?” asked Bastus slightly nervously, fiddling his sleeve, “If he goes to the King-”
“You needn’t worry,” assured Mantio, “He has already proven his loyalty – helping us out with the riots here and there. Darkness can have a peculiar effect on people who are already incited.”
Ada frowned as she listened. This all sounded very strange. What had he meant about the riots? Did he mean the peasant riots going on? Very quietly, she shifted her head slightly so that she could hear better.
They seemed to have talked enough though, and were standing still, looking out into the trees – waiting for their ‘contact’, Ada assumed. She suddenly realized the contact could be coming from her direction, and might see her hiding behind the bush. Maybe she could still come out and show herself – maybe they wouldn’t mind too much, they hadn’t said anything particularly secret yet –
“Who is this contact, anyway?” asked Bastus, “Is he part of the Nirian parliament? Or the Hesperian?”
“He is part of a new political party,” said Mantio, “I don’t know much about them myself; they’ve come out of nowhere. Perhaps you’ve heard of them – the Old Fallamor Alliance?”
“Oh, yes,” said Bastus, “I’ve heard murmurings here and there – quite radical, aren’t they?”
“They’re prepared to go to whatever lengths to achieve their ends,” said Mantio, “Which, my dear Bastus, is just the sort of group we need on our side.”
Ada’s eyes widened, her mind racing. This sounded like treason. And if they were as serious about this as they sounded, she didn’t know what they might do to her if they found her listening. Coming out was out of the question now – unless she pretended to have just come round, or something – no, they probably wouldn’t believe her.
She suddenly felt very exposed. They could see her any second. As silently as she could, she tried to wriggle further under the bush. She felt sharp thorns digging into her, but ignored it. The cracking and rustling of twigs sounded impossibly loud in her ears, but Mantio and Bastus showed no signs of hearing her.
She was now better hidden under the bush, but someone coming from directly behind her would still be able to see her all too easily. She thanked the elements that she was wearing a dark dress and wouldn’t be able to be seen as quickly, but she still felt uneasy. She saw the branches she had dropped and, glancing nervously at Mantio and Bastus and wishing they would start talking again, tentatively reached out and slowly pulled them towards her with her uninjured arm to try and block her from view.
As she was pulling the fourth branch towards her, as she moved she leant on a twig, which snapped loudly. “What was that?” said Mantio, head jerking in her direction. Ada froze and screwed her eyes shut, trying to slow her breathing and pretend to be unconscious. She heard footsteps approach her; dreading the worst, she tried to lie as quiet as possible, at the same time running through possible excuses in her head, each one stupider than the last.
The footsteps stopped next to the bush, and neither Mantio nor Bastus said anything. Ada didn’t dare to breathe. She opened her eyes a crack, and only just suppressed a gasp of alarm; Mantio’s shoes were about a foot away from her face. She couldn’t see where he was looking, and so couldn’t tell whether she was exposed in any way. Her chest started to ache from holding her breath for so long.
“Ah,” said Mantio suddenly, nearly making her jump out of her skin, “Ronim. At last.”
“I trust I haven’t kept you waiting?” said a dark voice from behind Ada. Ada was desperate to turn round – this must be the contact they were talking about – but she didn’t dare move. His footsteps were coming straight towards her – if he looked down, and saw a foot, or an arm –
“No, not at all,” said Mantio smoothly, “Ronim, this is Bastus, the king’s adviser, he’s a supporter of our cause… he was the one who advised the King to travel the country and meet with the rebels.”
“Ah,” said Ronim with a laugh, moving around the bush to join Mantio and Bastus on the other side. Ada almost sighed with relief, before remembering they were still within earshot. “I must say, that really was a stroke of genius, Mantio… especially since most of the peasants have never seen the king.”
“Thank you,” said Mantio modestly, and Ada saw him adjust his cravat, “Well, it wasn’t really my idea… I overheard the King’s daughter asking what would happen if one of the peasants pretended to be King, and how the others would know the difference!”
All three of the men laughed. “How delightful!” laughed Ronim, a laugh which sent chills up Ada’s spine, “The King’s daughter helping us in our plans… if we are successful, my lords, we must give her a medal for valour!”
Their laughter echoed around the trees, and Ada shifted uneasily. She had no desire to leave now; she wanted to hear what they were up to.
Again, I left you hanging slightly.... but no matter where I leave it now for the next considerable chunk, you'll probably be mad at me.
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Post by reasonably_crazy on Aug 8, 2005 18:42:40 GMT -5
*sigh*
Well, I guess that's understandable...
This is very very good...
Have you thought about getting anything published? (NOT counting Lembas for the Soul...)
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Aug 9, 2005 3:57:30 GMT -5
Ummmmm.... well, maybe.... my friends want me to try to get my diary of the German exchange published, because they thought it was a universally funny concept... the rest of the girls on the trip liked it too...
THEY ALL READ MY DIARY.
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Post by reasonably_crazy on Aug 9, 2005 4:19:45 GMT -5
LOL.
Poor baby...
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Aug 9, 2005 16:28:02 GMT -5
Well, I did let them.... i just ordered them not to read anything else in it.
.... I hope they didn't.... that would be very embarrassing...
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