the fool. Maybe now I can turn that around—”
As they’d been talking, Ritl had circled in on Amdi and was blabbering more and more loudly. She was now well within Amdi’s personal space. Five of him turned abruptly on Ritl, throwing the leash in a coordinated attack so that the singleton’s neck, forelegs and hindlegs were simultaneously caught in three separate loops. Ritl exploded in shrieking fury as Amdi flipped the creature onto her side. From the loft, Screwfloss hooted laughter.
Amdi stepped back, keeping tension on the various loops of leash. “Where was I?” he said. “Oh, yes. Ritl still needs her costume.” Two of him walked to the far wheelbarrow and took out a conical leather collar. He passed it from member to member, and those standing by Ritl’s head fastened the cone around the critter’s neck.
Ritl twisted about, jaws snapping on empty air. Her hissing spiked painfully loud. The conical collar stuck forward all around her head, drastically reducing her field of view. Her screeching quieted as she seemed to realize her total helplessness.
Amdi noticed the look on Ravna’s face. “I haven’t hurt her, honestly. This is a standard costume for clown singletons. Isn’t that right, Jefri?”
“Um, true.” But Jefri had a surprised expression on his face too. Amdiranifani was so rarely aggressive. More than most packs, the eightsome had sympathy for the oppressed.
“Right! Now it’s time to put on the clown paint.” He passed a couple of dye sticks to Ravna. “I’ll tell you what to draw. Just don’t touch her eyes or tympani and she’ll be fine.”
Ravna looked uncertainly at the two sticks. The handles were especially broadened for easy jaw handling. Amdi had plenty of free members to do the job himself.
“Go ahead, Ravna. The mindsound is awful, even from a singleton. I don’t want any more of me to stand near Ritl.”
“Okay.” Ravna knelt beside the animal, drew her hand in a gentle petting stroke along its back, much as the Children did with their Best Friends. Ritl shrieked and tried to scratch at her, but gradually settled back.
“Now start with big pink circles around the shoulder and haunch tympana…”
It took about fifteen minutes, and Jefri helping with the other colors, but in the end Ritl was dolled up more than any member Ravna had ever seen, including Godsgift.
When they were done, Amdi refastened the leash to a clasp that hung from Ritl’s collar. Then he let it go loose. Ritl was quiet for a second, then raced across the stable to where the brightest bit of sky light shone on the straw. The singleton spun around and around, futilely trying to get a look at what they had done to its body. Finally, the poor thing got tangled up in the leash again and tipped over.
“See?” said Amdi, though not quite with perfect enthusiasm. “The audience will think it’s hilarious.” He pointed a snout upwards. “Screwfloss thinks it’s hilarious.”
In fact, Screwfloss’ heads were rippling up and down in amusement. That cut short when Amdi sang out a sequence of chords that meant something like “now it’s your turn,” and gestured at the remnant to come down to ground level.
All heads but one jerked back, out of sight. Ravna heard sullen gobbling. Amdi replied with something cheerful. Three of him gathered up the dye sticks, the others looking up and gesturing to Screwfloss.
One by one, the remnant came down the ladder, the limper last of all. The four grouped at the bottom, glowering at Amdi.
Ravna and Jefri exchanged glances, and Jefri said, “Be careful, Amdi. Remember who that is.”
“I … I remember. I’m not going to force anything on him.” Amdi started toward the far end of the stable, where the harness gear was hung. It was cozy, but with enough room for two packs to have a private chat. After a moment, Screwfloss followed suspiciously. The two disappeared behind the harness racks. There was the sound of quiet discussion. “I can’t tell what they’re saying,” said Jefri. Half a minute passed and still no battle sounds. The loudest sounds in the stable were the kherhogs fidgeting in their stalls and Ritl hissing to herself.
It was getting noisy outside. Ravna recognized the wheezy music that announced entertainment events.
Screwfloss and Amdi broke off their rehearsing. Amdi hustled around the stable, getting everyone together, making sure the necessary props were all in a single wheelbarrow. Screwfloss moved close to the door. His smudged disguise had been wiped away—not that a disguise made sense this far from Woodcarver’s Domain. Now his pelts were decorated with a black and white checkered pattern. He held Ritl on a leash. Screwfloss didn’t look happy, but that might have been Ritl’s fault. Ravna walked over to give the pack some encouragement. Screwfloss looked up at her and spoke the first Samnorsk she’d heard from him since the night that part of him died: “We make big laugh. You see.” One of him gave her a gentle bump.
Outside, a pack thumped on the door and gobbled loudly.
“They’re ready, guys!” said Amdi. “Ravna, please get on my general left.” Jefri was already standing on the other side of the eightsome. “Don’t worry. Don’t worry. I’ll give you plenty of cues. We’ll be okay!”
The door was already sliding open, the music shifting to a fast tempo. Screwfloss lurched into the daylight, Ritl perforce accompanying him. Beyond the musicians (one or both of their guards were making all the wheeze), Ravna could see a well-spaced crowd, nothing like the mob of earlier in the day.
Screwfloss still had his limp, but now he was faking another limp on the other side of himself. The two of him who were holding the leash walked close together as if they were suffering from lateral hearing impairment. It was the gait he’d been practicing since he’d finished putting on the checkered makeup. Ritl might not be acting a part, but her dogged efforts to inconvenience her “master” were a perfect foil for Screwfloss’ performance: the fool and the fool’s pet. It was cruel medieval humor, and the crowd’s laughter drowned out the music.
Then Amdi stepped out into the daylight, flanked by the two humans. The crowd’s laughter faltered, and there were wondering hoots. The two guards walked forward, clearing the way. One of them was dragging the barrow like a small cart.
“Just stroll along after the guards,” said Amdi. “The Innmaster told me these are paying customers, charged double to see us both here and then again for our performance.”
The guards followed a flagstoned path leading to the inn. There were wagons parked everywhere, even near where the winch platform sat like a cockeyed gazebo in the roar and the mist of the waterfall.
More packs were watching from the portico of the inn, but now the guards swung wide around that building, leading both the performers and the high-paying customers on a long parade that ended at the largest amphitheater Ravna had yet seen on Tines World.
Amdi’s troupe paused under awnings at the edge of the arena, hidden from the view of the crowd.
The Innmaster walked to the center of the arena. The flagstones were fitted in an intricate design, but here and there were dark splatter marks that were not part of the design.
The Innmaster was giving some sort of speech. That went on for only a few seconds before there were shouts from above, and a then a steady chanting from all sides. Amdi had a couple of heads in public view, but the rest of him was crouched down. “Hei! They’re shouting ‘We paid our money and we don’t have to listen to you!’”
Out on the arena, the Innmaster tossed his heads in a disgusted gesture, and stomped off to his box in the grandstands.
“Does that mean we’re on?” said Ravna.
The eightsome huddled down lower.
“Amdi?” said Jefri, cajoling from the pack’s other side. “You’ve done fine so far. Go!”
“I, I, I haven’t had enough time to plan. I—”
The crowd chanted louder and louder. A very rotten yam splashed across the awning, sending little splatters down on Screwfloss. He made a disgusted noise and lost his close hold on Ritl’s leash. The singleton bounded into the open, her caution of earlier in the day forgotten. She ran in a wide arc, all the while gobbling loudly. She stopped, pranced about on her rear legs for a moment, then lost sight of the ground behind her collar/blinder and tipped over. She bounced up, still shouting. She was bragging about something, almost certainly nonsensical. But the eerie thing was how much she sounded like the Innmaster giving
The crowd’s chanting turned to laughter.
