They were encamped in the meadow of a small village only a few miles south of Pleclypsa. While no one in the troupe felt truly prepared, Pelmen’s plan called for them to premiere the play that night, before this rural audience. It would be their last chance to correct any trouble spots before the opening of the competition in the regional capital.
The wagons were formed into a circle, with only a single opening. Yards of cloth had been wrapped around the outside of this ring to insure that those who wished to watch had to pay for the privilege. The troupe had learned long ago to give the largest boys in the village some trifle and free admittance to keep nonpaying customers from crawling under the wagons. This small investment in security lilways paid off, for the challenge between the older guards find the younger lads not so chosen made the mobile theatre the center of a village’s attention for days. People flocked in from the fields to participate in the excitement imported by these painted actors from far away.
It was midmoraing, and already the guards beyond the wagon walls were shouting authoritatively and feeling important. Younger boys lay in the bushes and plotted in whispers how they might gain entrance into the circle. Within the ring, however, activity was at a minimum. The players had rehearsed far into the night and were now exercising their age-old prerogative of sleeping late.
Pelmen wasn’t asleep, but he was resting comfortably on his low couch.
The two friends had been locked in conversation until late the night before. Yona Parmi had resumed this morning as if sleep had never intervened.
“So you attempted to thrust this Rosha lad into the role of dragon slayer, but were forced to do the task yourself when his garbled speech enraged the beast?”
“It wasn’t by choice, Yona,” Pelmen replied, as he scooped his manuscript up off the floor and began studying it He found it terribly difficult to memorize lines he’d written himself. He tended to want to rewrite in the middle of a performance. “It simply had to be done.
Even so, it was a group effort. Without the cooperation of my companions, I would surely be in the belly of the beast today.”
“Still avoiding the hero’s role, aren’t you?” Yona Parmi frowned. “It rather annoys me, Pelmen, each time you return, how you diligently praise your various comrades in arms, while disavowing any real role in changing history yourself. It’s especially aggravating that you seem never to include us in your plans ”
“Please, Parmi.” Pelmen winced. “Haven’t we had this conversation before?”
“A number of times, I’ll grant. But we never seem to finish it. You always disappear, off to perform some new feat of magic that sets the forces of nature in balance again. And then you return, humbly denying having had anything to do with it.”
“What about Coralai in the second act? Is she stealing too much of the focus for the point to get across?”
“Or else you attempt to change the subject.”
“I think the pacing of that act is a little ponderous…”
“What I can’t understand is why you should even bother with us.”
Pelmen glanced up at him. “I told you, Parmi, I feel responsible for getting you back into more comfortable surroundings.”
“A well-intended gesture it is, and I’m duly appreciative. But I can’t shake the feeling there’s some grander scheme behind it all.”
“Think Danyilyn is too obvious in her impersonation of Ligne?”
“I didn’t think she could be too obvious, as far as you were concerned.”
“Just so long as she’s not offensive to the Queen.”
“That puzzles me as well. Why this sudden devotion to a shallow woman ruled only by her unrepressed lecheries for power and for young men?”
Yona raised a sparse eyebrow in mock horror. “You haven’t fallen in love with her yourself, have you?”
Pelmen laughed aloud. “I think you know me better than that.”
“Yes, yes, and there’s this Serphimera woman you told me about. But who could be sure?” Yona Parmi shrugged. “For all we know, you could be one of Ligne’s chief advisors by this time.”
Pelmen rolled off his divan and strolled past Yona Parmi to the door.
He pushed it open and glanced outside. “Another cold gray day,” he said. The clouds looked ominous. “I hope it doesn’t rain.”
Yona struggled to his feet and came to peer out over Pelmen’s shoulder.
“That would make for a rather soggy performance. Why not raise a wind and blow these clouds away?” He said it teasingly, but carefully studied his friend’s reaction.
There was little to study. Pelmen only chuckled mildly and climbed back into the wagon. He sauntered to the dressing table and scooped water from the bowl there to wash his face.
Yona persisted. “I know you need to get into the Imperial House of Chaomonous,” he announced, and Pelmen stopped washing and looked at him.
“How do you know that?”
’-”
“It’s the only thing that makes any sense. That’s why you’ve rejoined us to get within the walls. But I don’t understand why you don’t just transform yourself into a falcon and fly in. You can still do that, can’t you?”
Pelmen toweled off his face. “That would be shaping, Panni, and you know I’ve never been able to shape the powers in Chaomonous.”
“I know you’ve always said you couldn’t Does that mean there are no powers here to shape?”
Pelmen shrugged a bit too elaborately, Yona Parmi thought and said,
“All I know is that I’ve never shaped any powers in Chaomonous.”
Yona Parmi turned testy, for he knew from Pelmen’s veiled eyes that the traveler knew far more than he was saying. “You’d never been a Prophet in Lamath before last year, eitherl”
“That was different. I had nothing to do with that. The Power did that through me.”
“The Power being that One who met you on a mountain-top long ago?”
The same.”
“Do you think the Power you speak of is not powerful enough to cross Dragonsgate?”
Pelmen met Yona Parmi’s eyes. For the first time since he had returned, he let Yona see the worry he’d hidden inside. “You aren’t going to give up, are you?” he sighed.
“You’ve given me no reason to believe I should.” Yona Parmi waited a moment, then prodded, “What’s troubling you, my friend?”
“I’d prefer not to involve you, if I can help it. The less you know, the less you can be held accountable for by others.”
“Meaning, by Ligne.”
“By Ligne, by her advisors, by whomever, Yona. My concern extends well beyond the borders of this supposed Empire of Chaomonous. There are others in other lands who oppose me.”
, “Pelmen, I’m already involved. I’m part of the troupe
’ that’s going to get you within the walls. But answer ray question, man! Pelmen Dragonsbane has slain the dragon and opened the pass for traffic to move freely between the three lands. Cannot the Power pass Dragonsgate as well?”
Pelmen thought for a long time before answering. “The Power has passed.”
“Ah…” Yona Parmi sighed, his dark eyes lighting up.
“As have other powers.
Yona looked puzzled. “What other powers?”
“Those that have been shaped by Mari power shapers for these many centuries,” Pelmen intoned quietly. He turned his gaze on Yona Parmi again, and showed his friend an expression of quiet desperation. “And I never seem to know which is which.”
“You mean powers from Ngandib-Mar are free among us?” Yona Parmi asked with a shudder. Suddenly he felt an urge to glance around him and beneath the bed.
“Or so it seems,” Pelmen nodded. “A week ago I stood outside the walls of the Imperial House. There’s something there, Yona. I felt it.”