"So, are you pleased?"
"Aye," said Mnomene.
She stared over Talbot's shoulder, toward the empty thrones on the stage still stained with stage blood. The one Talbot had reserved for her guest had remained empty every night, despite the complaints of nobles who wanted to buy it. Talbot never thought of asking Mnomene to release it. Unless he was sorely mistaken, Mnomene's play was ultimately intended for an audience of one.
By the middle of the second tenday, Talbot's mother and brother arrived to see the play. Tamlin at first pretended to be offended that his brother had not reserved him the throne seats, but then he praised the show in tones so sincere that Talbot tensed, suspecting mockery. He was surprised when Tamlin embraced him before leaving the playhouse.
"I had no idea you and father were so close," said Tamlin. "I envy you, my big little brother."
Only their sister had called Talbot by that childhood nickname, but it was the emotion in Tamliris voice that choked him up. Talbot knew that they both mourned a father he had never really known, but perhaps he had come to understand something of the man in learning the role of King Krion.
The house was filling the night Mnomene's guest arrived.
The crowd parted for him as they would for the Overmaster of Sembia, though the guest approached without herald or fanfare. His robes were more golden thread than silk, and his slippers seemed to be composed entirely of red and black gemstones, though they appeared as supple as lambskin and attracted not one fleck of mud as he tread over the damp ground. His hair and beard were silver-shot gold. Talbot recognized him immediately; he could be only Mnomene's father.
He did not pay as he passed the turnstile, but Ennis made no move to stop him. The big fellow only gaped at the imperial figure as he entered the playhouse and walked with stately assurance to the reserved seat, as if it truly was a throne. As the man sat, the hush over the playhouse was dispelled, and the typical hubbub filled the vast space.
Talbot found Mnomene peering at the man from the edge of the stage. She seemed eager and nervous.
"Your guest arrives at last," he said.
She nodded and withdrew from the stage.
"No matter what happens tonight," she said, "I wish to thank you."
"What do you mean," said Talbot," 'Whatever happens tonight'?"
"Here," she said. "For luck."
She pressed a ruby into his hand and kissed him on the cheek.
Dizzy from the kiss, Talbot hesitated as she turned to walk briskly through the backstage area toward the gallery stairs.
Shed almost escaped before he called out, "Luck for what? What's going to happen?"
Mnomene paused and looked back over her shoulder.
"I will watch from the gallery," she said. "It is best if he does not look upon me."
"Mnomene!"
"Just remember, this is your house, and he is a guest here."
She gave him one last, nervous smile, murmured a word of sorcery, and vanished.
"Dark and empty," cursed Talbot.
"What's wrong?" said Sivana, emerging from the prop room beneath the stage.
She wore half of her costume and held the rest under her arm along with Talbot's kingly robes and crown. Mallion was right behind her in the garb of the prince.
"Nothing," said Talbot. "I hope."
His hope did not last long after the play began.
In the opening scene, as King Krion, Talbot demanded that his children declare their devotion to him before dispensing their inheritances. Mallion's prince honored his father's martial conquests and promised to take up his arms in eternal defense of his realm. To him Krion entrusted his armies and granted a paltry annual stipend.
"You set me to arms, sire, but arm me not," protested the prince.
Mnomene's father snorted derisively.
The elder princess, played by a pretty young actress Mallion had "discovered" in a local festhall, praised the king's wisdom and pledged tireless diligence in overseeing justice in his kingdom. The king awarded her a magistrate's scepter and another paltry income.
"Judge them best who toil in economy, as you provide exemplar to their lives."
The groundlings hissed the niggardly advice, but Mnomene's father sneered.
"If you had matched her worth to her wits," he spat, "you should demand a return of your gift!"
At last, Sivana stood before the king as his beloved youngest princess. In response to his demand for praise, she promised love in the precise amount of the duty of a daughter, no more, no less.
"Ha!" barked the guest. "Nothing will come of nothing."
Talbot narrowed his eyes, thinking it unlikely that the man had guessed the very lines he was about to speak. He realized Mnomene's father must have observed the play before, clandestinely, and while the troupe did not object to the groundlings' reacting to the play, a heckler on the stage-especially a noble guest-could throw them.
Talbot forged again, his voice shifting almost involuntarily to mimic the guest's voice. "Nothing will come of nothing," he said, shaking a dire finger at the princess.
For the rest of the first act, the visitor said no more, but he shifted in his seat and coughed every time some character protested Nesme's innocence or implored King Krion to reason.
The trouble began when Krion banished his loyal seneschal.
"Ridiculous!" he barked, standing up to point at Talbot. "This is where it all goes inexcusably wrong. No such thing happened. Never!"
Presbart, in his motley and bells, sidled up to the man as if he were an attendant lord at Krion's court.
He had decades of experience dealing with hecklers, most of whom merely wanted to share the attention of the crowd.
"Can you not see, my lord?" he said, taking his arm to ease him back into the throne. "The king is mad!"
The visitor brushed him aside, and the other players continued, trying to ignore his outburst even as Ennis, at a nod from Talbot, changed direction in his retreat from Krion's court to stand near the belligerent guest. If he noticed Ennis's intention, the visitor made no show of it.
"Only this fool could think the wise man mad who measures his hoard against impudent, wanton youth!" The visitor strode toward Talbot, admonishing him with a wagging finger. "And whose fool are you-?" with the most casual flick of his hand he shoved Ennis away as the big man reached for his arm-"to so abuse a good father in this pitiable pantomime?"
"For a heckler," observed Mallion, edging away from Talbot, "he's pretty good."
"Be at peace, my loyal subject," said Talbot.
He was not as smooth as Presbart at such improvisation, but he had to give it a try before tossing the man bodily from his stage. He raised his prop scepter and gestured for the guest to return to his throne
Undaunted, the guest slapped the scepter out of Talbot's hand.
"Where is she?" he demanded. "Mnomene, show yourself!"
"That is enough," Talbot growled at the man. "Get out."
"Who are you to order me, you mincing imitation of a man?" He turned and called out to the gallery. "Mnomene, show yourself at once! This farce of yours is over."
"It has only just begun," cried Mnomene's voice from the upper gallery. She was either still invisible or else well hidden. "Everyone has seen for tendays what a callous miser you are."
"Listen, old man," said Sivana, coming up behind him. "You have had your fun, but the paying customers- oof."
She flew across the stage, just missing the pillar and crashing into the crowd with half a dozen groundlings. Their laughter turned nervous, for while they loved a good brawl, they could not understand the course of the sudden improvisation.
Talbot reached for him, but the visitor was already transforming. His gold-threaded robes shrank and merged into his flesh to form metallic scales while his arms stretched up, fingers splayed and forming wide golden wings even as a new set of taloned arms grew out of his sides and his legs turned to powerful haunches.