Thread: Carnival: Shadows And Whispers Under The Big Top (Dane Stalling & darkangel76)

Chins and Mojo crowded close, interested to see what Elspeth had done with Roald's costume. He pushed them back. You clumsies are stepping on her toes, he said, which wasn't strictly true, but Elspeth's work was special and he didn't want Chins making some rude comment on it. The costume had been an ordinary one, fairly crude. Audiences never were within ten feet of it, and the quality of the seams didn't have to be high. They just had to not fail. The seams had failed though, and Roald had had to do the last half of the ladder gag with a split from his armpit to his knee. What he held now was like something he might have purchased at a gentleman's tailor shop. Each seam was tight and turned under. No more loose threads stuck out, and the wrists and the inside of the collar were lined in a buttery leather. I'll never want to take this off, Elspeth, he said. Then he saw that there were new decorations. Gods with lightning bolts, maidens by the dozens fainting and fawning, a portrait of a cruel warrior queen. But what stories are these? he said, fingering the tiny stitches that formed a woman's breast. I've never heard them sung or told. ---- She seduced me, Albert wailed as the girl threw on her clothes willy nilly without even tying her corset. It was most improper. Ava had his hair in a fist and he felt tears squeezing out of his eyes. Then she was gone, escaped, and he had been robbed of his conquest. She hypnotized me, he rasped. Oh, you 'chased her until she caught you?' It's a tired and pathetic lie, Albert. She's not a carnie tart, couldn't you see? She's a young lady and could cause trouble like in Musertaa. You've not forgotten the pitchforks and torches already, have you? Albert shuddered. Mayors' daughters looked just like the other pretty girls. How could a man tell? They had all but had the noose around his neck in Musertaa. Ava let go of his hair and he slumped on his divan. Cover yourself. You're disgusting. ---- The locomotive crawled North, rarely above a walking pace, and as the sun rose, many of the occupants of the colorful string of trailers stepped out and walked alongside the train, talking as they walked, stealing the occasional squash from a field and picking wild blackberries for breakfast. Callum woke when his tinker trailer hit a particularly large pothole and his lamp toppled over. All the other tools and gadgets swung securely on their hooks in a synchronized dance. He hung the lantern up on its own tiny hook and stood. He stretched and cranked the roof open a little to let in light. Moving days were some of the few he walked freely in the sun and air. He put the plate in his mouth, opened his door and stepped onto the old tar road. There had been other machines that used the road before the wars, but now they were mostly just horses and wagons and sometimes a velocipede close to the cities. He limped slowly, relaxed, enjoying the sun and wind, and the locomotive gained on him. The Sparrows' trailer passed him, then Elspeth's, then Roald's with the chipping white paint, then Sadie's little blue trailer. He rapped on her shutter as he shuffled. She opened a minute later, her dark hair wet and shining. Droplets shone and sparkled in her beard. Good morning, beautiful, he said, How's our most fetching lady? Awake and breathing, Cal, she said, but sleep was still in her voice. A lady lost her luggage by my cage in the night and I have it safe. Did you see a fire-haired lady in the night? Maybe one of the horsemen can deliver it back to Faraviata before we're too far. I haven't seen such a lady, but Barker sees much, and Rhianna sees more. Maybe they can help. Thank you kindly. Callum rolled along, letting the train go by, taking a bread loaf and a scoop of butter from the chuck wagon and eating it one torn chunk at a time and smeared with the rich yellow. Rihanna's tiny red trailer bumped along the road, all shut up tight. Strange for the soothsayer. On moving days she was always dashing through fields collecting herbs and toadstools and tiny blue eggshells and her door and shutters banged open and shut as the trailer rocked. The girl was odd, but delightful in her way. If Callum ever found two or three stalks of wheat tied together with a horsehair on the step of his trailer or a tiny fairy made of flowers stuck to the dew on his door, he knew it was Rihanna. He knocked on a shutter. Hello, Rihanna, it's... Leave the leather on my step, Rhianna said, speaking low through the closed shutter, Gratitude will descend on you, but today it is a flown bird, and wounded. Callum scratched his ear and shrugged. Can I get you anything else? The shutter was mute for a minute. Yes. Two loaves, a seasoned sausage, and one large carrot that hasn't been stolen. Callum tapped the shutter gently by way of response and picked up his skipping pace. When he caught up to his trailer, he swung in and wrapped a silver coin in a bit of red cloth and picked up the girl's bag. He collected the bread and the sausage at the chuck wagon and exchanged a carrot from a horseman's bag for the coin without the man even noticing that he was there. He left the strange collection on Rihanna's tiny porch. Shall I sing you a song as well? he said just loud enough for her to hear. He snorted a low laugh. A song. What a wonderful thought, she said, but no. The music of the wheels is sweet enough. Callum sighed and quoted a familiar saying among the people of the carnival. We leave behind all the evils we don't bring along with us. He thought of the cage and the tent-peg, and hoped they traveled faster than gossip.