Chapter Two
"
–DSCH
The town where I'd grown up consisted of both what one calls vermin and woodlanders. Our alignment wasn't split–we were all dirt poor together under Zlaya's system. I guess we had something over the other little towns in the district, a certain air of intelligence is what I can describe it best as, though I mean not to degrade other villages. It was by that factor, though, that managed to get me the musical knowledge that brought me to where I was. The lessons were a fortune, as I fondly reflect. At the time, I considered being taken into Zlaya's gilded circle a good fortune. Emotions on the spur of the moment tend to swirl harder and frothier, more confusing and illusional.
I must clarify somewhere that I do not like to be put on display. That is, I like to be noticed when appropriate but never flaunted. For the troupes, I was an aside, I sometimes got a tip, which was good. That's why I'd offer my services, mostly. My general nature is one away from the spotlight. When I followed Zlaya's entourage into Mtsensk, therefore, currents of self consciousness rilled under general awe. Uniformed buglers stationed down the length of the main hall heralded their chief's entrance with a bright martial fanfare. I remember also my own subconscious bubbling on how their blowing wasn't a bad tune, how the meter was something interesting enough to reconsider later. Their intonation could have been improved upon, but there's always something a musician can improve upon in his playing.
Zlaya approached the end of the hall, turning and silencing the buglers with a swift motion of a paw. My subconscious troubled itself momentarily over how that had been a very bad time to stop for phrasing, but my apparent attention–my conscious attention and my eyes considered only Zlaya. She frowned near the point of a snarl upon her buglers before announcing, "You can give your noise a break. I have fresh paws, new notes. I give you Mitya Shostak."
I moved slowly and awkwardly to turn and face them, but I know I was still smiling somewhat. Awe was still holding out against self consciousness. In either, though, I found no voice. I stood, facing the buglers blankly until Zlaya ordered me to, "Come here, young fox. You've been introduced. I know you heard."
I had indeed heard very well, and I looked back at Zlaya to show it. She in turn looked to the side, all she needed to do to indicate a large, expensive-looking piano just off from front and center against the far wall of the hall. I didn't need to ask questions about that. I probably would have been disciplined had I said anything. Approaching the polished wood bench, I stared at it before finally sitting down and running a paw down the keys. I'd never had the chance to play on such an instrument before. I should have sat down and played enthusiastically through every piece I'd ever learned or written, or I should have sat down and improvised until they made me go to bed. But at that point, rather unfortunately, creativity was not especially active.
What could I do, then, with the infamous, all-powerful dictator of every part of the countryside I'd seen to that point standing behind me, breathing down my back, wanting to hear what I could do again? I had to play. Placing both paws on the keyboard then, I started picking out the melody and harmony of the fanfare I'd just heard.
Zlaya hissed almost immediately, placing a paw rather heavily on my shoulder with a clear intention to make me stop playing. "I've brought you here so I don't have to listen to that anymore. Play something else, something different!"
I nodded dumbly, adjusting my spectacles before repositioning paws on the keys. I had to do something different, but still something grand and martial. I couldn't use the bugle call, couldn't use any of the melodies I'd parodied for Bolt's troupe earlier. Blinking down at the keys a few times, I finally brought my paws to play a few loud triads. A simple sequence, stalling for time so I could actually think. Throwing a quick glance back at Zlaya, I read her face as pleased and relaxed a bit, continuing to vary and stray from that strain of chords.
Zlaya knew nothing about music. I discovered that soon enough, almost immediately. To be pleased with the mere beginner's exercise I started out with is something only an unfamiliar ear can accomplish. When I did have idea enough to really start making something from what I was playing, she'd interject at times that made no sense to me. She'd make suggestions that did nothing for the music and often went against any theory a teacher could tell you. But I did it anyway. One can't be too careful when dealing with dictators. I found that out, certainly. I realized soon enough that I was a servant, but I kept trying to play the right notes for Zlaya until the very end of the matter.
