The Wizard of Karres

CHAPTER 12

'Well,' Dame Ethulassia said, archly, surveying Pausert and the rest of his crew. 'I suppose you want to know why I asked you—here.'

She waved her hand at the rows and rows of theater seats beyond the stage. At least, Pausert thought there were rows and rows of seats out there; he could only see the first few.

Goth was paying no attention to the Dame at all. Instead, she was peering into the darkness. 'Who's that?' she suddenly demanded.

'Richard Cravan,' replied a rich and powerful voice from the darkness. The voice seemed to echo, as if in a great cavern.

'Sir Richard Cravan,' said Dame Ethulassia, 'The founder and director of our theatrical company.'

To the captain's surprise, she dimpled. The smile made her seem a lot younger. A lot more attractive, too, than her earlier Great Vamp performance. For a moment, The Incredible Bosom even seemed to belong to a real woman.

'Poor Himbie! He thinks I make all the decisions about casting! But if he knew it was Sir Richard, he'd never let us have half the resources he gives me.'

'My dear Lassia,' chuckled The Voice, 'You make as many decisions as I.'

'But you are the heart and soul of the Company,' Dame Ethulassia replied. Pausert would have expected her to simper, but she simply seemed serious, almost reverent. 'Miss Hulik, would you step to the front of the stage, please?'

With a look of surprise, Hulik did so. As she did, Pausert saw words appearing in the air between them and the theater. 'This is a love-speech, Miss Hulik,' said The Voice. 'The lady in question is very young, and so is her lover. They just met this evening, and fell instantly in love, even though their families are involved in a deadly feud. He has come to see if she feels as strongly as he does—as you do, Miss Hulik. He stands below you, beneath your balcony. Let me hear you speak to him, please.'

Hulik stepped forward—and to Pausert's delight and surprise, seemed to shed years and become someone else altogether.

He had known, of course, that the do Eldel was an agent of the Empress, and as such, was capable of many roles. What he had not really understood was that she could act. Hulik started reading her lines from the words projected in the air without seeming even to pause.

'What man art thou,' she whispered, 'that thus bescreen'd in night so stumblest on my counsel?'

'By a name,' The Voice replied, sounding impossibly adolescent, breathless and excited all at once, 'I know not how to tell thee who I am: My name, dear Saint, is hateful to myself, because it is an enemy to thee. Had I it written, I would tear the word!'

Hulik clasped her hands before her, gasping with mingled consternation and delight. 'My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words of thy tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound. Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?'

Pausert listened and watched, holding his breath, and he was not the only one. Goth and even the Leewit were doing the same; the grik-dog actually lay down and was gazing up at Hulik soulfully. And when he looked out of the corner of his eye at the Dame, expecting to see her eyeing Hulik with jealousy, he was shocked to see a tear trickling down her cheek and an odd little smile playing on her lips.

Then Hulik finished a very long speech that ended: 'And not impute this yielding to light love, which the dark night hath so discovered.'

The Voice said, 'Enough, Miss Hulik. Thank you. My dear Lassia? I believe you are correct. Historically, it should be the handsome young lady beside Captain Aron, of course, but—no. There are some things it is better not to be accurate about, and allowing Juliet to be portrayed by a young adolescent is one of them.'

'It's been too long, dear Richard, since our little troupe has been able to stage Romeo and Juliet,' the Dame said, with a passion that surprised Pausert. 'I am many things, and capable of many roles, but I will no longer attempt to play a fourteen-year-old girl. It would be foolish.'

'And you are no fool. Captain Aron?'

'Sir?' Pausert stepped forward.

'May I ask if you have ever handled a sword?'

As it happened, he had. Fencing was one of the sports provided at school on Nikkeldepain, and he'd tried it out of curiosity. He'd kept it up in the Nikkeldepain Navy, since swordsmanship was something of a tradition there. 'I fence a bit, sir,' he replied cautiously.

'Well! You surprise me pleasantly! A captain who actually knows how to use a sword. I thought that was illegal, these days.'

In fact, The Voice did sound extremely pleased. But given that whoever The Voice belonged to was obviously a consummate actor, Pausert didn't know if he was or not.

'Come, Captain, step forward. You are Romeo's best friend Mercutio—older, something of a bully-boy, and just a little mad. It was a favored role of mine, but alas! I have accumulated too many years for it. Now, our hero has not met his Juliet at this point—he believes himself in love with another girl, and his friend Mercutio is trying to jolly him out of his depression by coaxing him to go to a party.'

The Voice changed, somehow sounding again like that younger self that had spoken with Hulik. 'Give me a torch, I am not for this ambling. Being but heavy I will bear the light.'

Pausert had been looking at the words in the air, and tried to put on a 'jollying' tone. 'Nay gentle Romeo, we must have you dance!'

'Not I, believe me! You have dancing shoes with nimble soles, I have a soul of lead so stakes me to the ground, I cannot move.'

Romeo sounded like a moping little teenaged fool. If I were his older friend, what would I sound like when he's in a mood like this? Pausert wondered. He made himself sound impatient; more than a little tired of this theatrical depression. 'You are a Lover, borrow Cupid's wings, and soar with them above a common bound!'

The Voice was finished with him much quicker than with Hulik. 'Good, good, you'll do. You're no Barrymore, mind—but if you can handle a sword at all, you're head and shoulders above anyone else we might use for the part. Now, Miss—Hantis, is it? Please step forward.'

New words appeared in the air.

'You are something very different, my dear. Your appearance suits you ideally for a creature known as Puck. He is not human, is in fact a sort of magical spirit. He's also exceedingly mischievous. Begin, please?'

Hantis threw herself into the part with more enthusiasm than Pausert had expected—more enthusiasm than talent, perhaps, but The Voice did not interrupt her too quickly. 'Good, good, that will do. Your appearance is half the thing, and when I've explained what all that seeming nonsense you've been reciting actually means, I believe you'll do very well. And the . . . grik-dog, I believe he is called? With jaws like that, it behooves me not to offend him.'

'Pul,' growled Pul.

'So it is. Pul, indeed. I mean to have you play one of Titania's attendants, and perhaps, if you do well, a much larger role in another play later on. You might make an interesting Caliban.'

Pausert hadn't a clue what all that meant, but the Dame clapped her hands with glee. 'Wonderful! And Miss Hantis for Ariel?'

'That was my thought. Now, let me see what the others can do.'

The Voice ran through the rest of them in fairly short order. Goth did not seem to be at all unhappy that she was dismissed with: 'A Fairy, an attendant on Juliet, and some crowd scenes, I think.' But, then, she wouldn't be. Goth took a sly pleasure in being overlooked by people, as long as the captain wasn't one of them.

The Leewit, of course, scowled when she wasn't picked for a larger role, but she didn't make any open protest. Her lips didn't even start to purse for a whistle. Pausert would have been surprised, since the Leewit's self-esteem normally fell in the Mistress of the Universe range. But there was something immensely authoritative