Chapter 3)
Raden looked up as the Royal couple entered his office. He did not appear surprised to see them nor did he jump to his feet and bow immediately as was typical of government officials.
He rose courteously after laying aside his quill and bowed then seated himself after Sabine and Amon had done so. His greeting was also typical of Raden and atypical of the usual subject. "So I hear you've lost your daughter."
"I shouldn't be surprised that you already know of it," Amon half grumbled, "But I am. How did you learn of it? We came straight here once we found out."
"A little bird told me." Raden replied smoothly and Sabine barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes. "Need I remind you that—"
"This would not have happened if she had a Watcher." Sabine interrupted, completing his sentence in annoyance. "She didn't want one and she was so adamant about it that we gave in."
"She's always with one of her brothers or sisters." Amon pointed out. "It didn't seem necessary with the ring as well. She was safe enough her entire life with that protection."
Raden regarded them both in exasperation. "And having a Watcher would also mean your baby was growing up. The fact is she's your youngest and you have grown used to her being your baby and spoiling her." He said tartly. "She didn't have to have a close Watcher like Lorelei or Morgana if she wasn't ready for that. But she still needs a bodyguard!" His voice was tight on the last word and the queens face grew eerily calm.
"Raden why are you so upset?" She groped for Amon's hand. "Her ring—"
"Is not on her hand!" Raden snapped. "It's not anywhere near her."
Amon's expression turned grim. "Then what are our options." He ground out the words carefully.
"First we'll try to locate her instead of the ring." Raden's tone was equally grim. "I need a strand of hair from each of you."
Amon frowned his puzzlement but gamely pulled the requested hair from his head. His wife did the same and the spymaster took them in his hand.
On his desk he placed a bowl of clear water and with strange gestures spoke archaic words over the water. The hairs in his hand flared briefly as they burned and he blew the ashes over the water.
Amon and Sabine waited anxiously looking into the bowl as Raden frowned in concentration down at it. Abruptly the water went cloudy and dark. Raden looked up with a near growl. "Who has been teaching Asrai Aelaitha magic?"
"What?" Amon's surprised query was echoed by his wife's expression.
"We can rule out kidnapping." Raden snapped. "Because she's blocking my attempts to find her magically. She doesn't want to be found." He looked at the two of them. "You have two daughters to whom magic comes naturally it seems. "
"Sweet Lord of Night." Sabine swore softly. "We saw no sign of it. Nothing like with Morgana."
"And believe me, we were watching for it." Amon said seriously.
"She may not even know she's doing it." Raden sat back with a sigh. "This means we have to find her the old fashioned way. With the eyes of the Guild." He looked at the two of them soberly. "Have you told anyone else she's missing?" The two of them shook their heads. "Don't. Say she's visiting her cousins or something. None of us want the opportunists of Suzail to hear the princess is missing and think to find her and hold her for ransom."
"All right." Amon squeezed his wife's hand reassuringly. "I take it you don't want the Guard stumbling around looking for her either?"
"Gods no!" Raden ejaculated in distaste. "The fewer souls who know of this the better."
"Then we'd best go and inform her siblings of what has occurred and warn them to say nothing." Sabine said quietly. "That she has run away from home…" She looked up at her husband. "If she was so unhappy why didn't she come to us?" The queen wondered sadly.
Amon stroked her hair gently and helped her to rise. "Perhaps she wasn't so much as unhappy as wanting adventure. Like Alusair." He suggested, though his blue eyes were dark with worry and sorrow as well.
"Oh yes, she would come by that honestly enough." Sabine made a face. "Thank you Raden." She forced a smile for her old teacher.
"Don't worry too much Sabine." The spymaster said quietly. "Either of you. I've noticed that all of your children are able to take care of themselves quite handily. She'll come to no harm."
"Thank you Raden." Amon nodded. "I hope you're right."
Meanwhile the young lady under discussion was listening to the auditions. As the youngest she was to go last. The murmuring among the actors backstage was all about Marlowe, the brilliance of his plays, the scope of his genius, ad nauseum. Small wonder Tredorian was nervous about writing a play on his own. No one credited him with any talent or part in writing the wonderful Silver Marches plays. He and Marlowe had been writing together since they were at the college in Silverymoon but Marlowe was getting all the credit.
"I saw Ned Alleyn play Tambourlaine you know." Fenneyman was saying to one of the men with him. "Amazing. But that was mighty writing. There's no one like Marlowe."
Asrai rolled her eyes and listened to Wabash nearly stutter the entire first line of his speech. Amazingly enough Henslowe called out for the man to report to the property master. Anything was possible the missing princess said to herself. Then it was her turn.
Stepping out onto the stage she tugged at her cap nervously. Directly across from her in the shadows of the empty theatre Henslowe, Tredorian and Ned were sitting.
"You may begin." Tredorian said without looking up but was interrupted by an exclamation from one of his companions.
"Suffering cats!" Ned exclaimed. "Who do you think you're fooling!" He leapt onstage and in two strides had crossed to where Asrai stood. She was a tall girl even for a thirteen year old but he towered over her. His hand moved more quickly than she did even though she ducked trying to dodge. Long graceful fingers pulled off her cap and spilled the wild mane of her gold hair down over her shoulders and back. There was a moment of stunned silence.
"Why disguise yourself?" Tredorian asked, inwardly cringing. He remembered his young advisor from the previous evening, her soft voice barely audible even next to him, long legs coltish and clumsy. To be fair they had to give her an audition but he foresaw disaster.
"It is a boy's speech that I wish to do." Asrai said quietly. "I thought I should look like a boy."
"Well I hope you can act because you don't look a thing like a boy." Ned chuckled and began to walk away.
"And I hope that you can act for you do not behave like a gentleman!" Asrai shot back her tones ringing. Ned stopped and turned to stare at her coldly.
"I beg your pardon?" He said in frostbitten tones.
"As well you should!" She retorted.
"Now, now…" Henslowe, ever the mediator, spoke up. "Ned, she's a little girl, and the only girl to audition so far. Have a little patience."
"Aye, but a little is all I shall need!" Ned returned and took his seat beside Tredorian again.
"With your permission sir, I should like to recite a speech from a writer who commands the heart of every player." Asrai said in a tone fervent with conviction. Tredorian nearly groaned, anticipating Marlowe again but nodded for her to speak.
The voice that emerged from her slender form was fervent, and fraught with the tender emotions of a first love. It was also projected with enough sound to reach the rafters but lost none of its gentleness. Her hands moved in the air as graceful as a dancer and her face was rapt with belief in her speech,
"What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?
What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?...
Unless it be to think that she is by
And feed upon the shadow of perfection.
...except I be by Silvia in the night,
There is no music in the nightingale.
Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
There is no day for me to look upon."
Tredorian blinked in awe as he realized she had stopped speaking. His own words. She knew his words by heart. From nearby he heard Ned whispering. "By the gods."
"Shall I continue sir?" Asrai nervously came out of character, twisting her cap in her hands. "I know the rest…"
"No, no that's quite all right." Tredorian came out of his stupor. "Where did you learn to do that?"
"Are you…" She came to the edge of the stage. "Are you Master Tredorian?" Her eyes were huge.
"Alas yes." He nodded.
"Never alas sir." She contradicted him shaking her head. "I have read every word you have ever written. My mother-" Asrai bit off her words, appalled that she had nearly given herself away so quickly. That the Queen had commanded several of Tredorian's plays to be performed in Court was well known, but not that Sabine was Asrai's mother. "She's let me attend every one of your plays performed in Suzail." She changed her words quickly.
Tredorian blinked and looked at Ned who simply shrugged. "I am flattered." He looked back at her. "Where did you learn to do that?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I've always wanted to act, when I didn't want to be a ranger." Honesty compelled her to add. "No one has ever told me that I could. I thought I would try and see." She looked at them nervously. "Can I?"
"If we are any fit panel of judges you certainly can." Tredorian told her. "And you shall have a part."
"Thank you sir!" She exclaimed. "Thank you." She moved towards them and nearly tripped.
"What is your name?" Henslowe asked watching her as she stood up straight again. "How old are you?"
"My name is Asrai, I'm thirteen." She looked at him. Ned and Henslowe blinked at her and even the slightly dreamy Tredorian considered her more closely. "Look I know it's not the most original choice in the world, but I was born the same year as the princess and my mother, in a fit of patriotism no doubt, named me for her."
"Speaking of which, why aren't you home with your family?" Ned asked. "You're a little young to be making your way in the world aren't you?"
"Don't ask her that, she snaps," Tredorian advised him tardily. "Her parents are where they belong, at home." He parroted Asrai's words of the evening before.
She grinned at him and looked at Ned seriously. "My mother was already working as a ladies maid when she was my age. My family taught me to take care of myself. Then they all tried to take care of me. This is the first time I've been on my own. It's refreshing to say the least." Her tone was eloquent in its irony.
"Overprotective were they?" The actor grinned back at her.
"To say the least." She looked at Tredorian curiously. "What part am I to have? You'll have someone much more skilled for Ethel I'm certain."
Tredorian gestured towards the pages Henslowe held. "The female lead isn't written yet, but I think my advisors will agree that you've the skill to deal with a lead role."
"What she doesn't know by instinct we can teach her." Ned said absently as he took the pages from Henslowe. He read over them and then looked at Tredorian. "You said Mercutio was Romeo's best friend, the secondary role."
"Yes." Tredorian nodded still considering Asrai. "I had Nicholas in mind for it. You of course have Romeo."
Ned shook his head and made a maudlin face. "I know I'll kick myself for it, but I'd rather take the part of Mercutio. I can't see myself playing a milksop, long face boy. I don't look the part and I don't like it either."
Tredorian blinked and stared, "Are my ears deceiving me or are you giving away a lead role?" He asked. "Ned, need we call in a priest to cure you of a sudden madness?"
Ned laughed and shook his head again. "Mad I may be, but you'll need someone to help you direct the scenes and teach our leading lady more of stage craft. I'd prefer Mercutio, Nicholas will look more of a Romeo, and he'll be thrilled to get the leading role." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Everyone is happy."
Tredorian shrugged. "All right Ned, if that's what you want." He shouted. "Ho! Nicholas Tooley!" A few moments later Nicholas' tall slender form slipped through the backstage curtains. "Nicholas, congratulations, you are our Romeo."
Nicholas bowed puffing up almost visibly with pride. "Thank you Master Tredorian, I shan't disappoint you." He appeared somewhat haughty as he disappeared through the curtains again.
Asrai glanced after him and looked at Ned. "He thinks he's just beaten you. Will you enlighten him?"
The wicked gleam that lit Ned's eyes was answered in hers. "No, I think I'll let him puff up like a turkey before I stick a pin in his pretensions." He answered. "Meanwhile, Tredorian…where is Mercutio?"
Tredorian looked at him and tapped his head. "Locked safe in here Ned." He rose. "I'm going to clear my mind, and perhaps I can persuade him to come out via my quill." He looked at Asrai. "Perhaps you might impart a bit of your wisdom to our new lady, and a few of our other actors." He exited the theatre, hands stuffed in his pockets.
Ned regarded Asrai. "From what I have seen, you move well onstage but once off it, you trip over everything."
Asrai blushed and nodded. "Stage is different, I think of the character, practice how they would move, but in myself…Momma has told me that I am considerate in speech if long winded but impetuous in movement."
"A very astute woman." Ned grinned. "Why don't we go over the stage areas and we'll practice with a few of Tredorian's other plays, since you have them memorized. Valentine and Silvia perhaps? You can get used to being here."
"I should like that." Asrai grinned. "If Master Henslowe won't mind."
"Me? No, just let Fenneyman watch." Henslowe came out of his daze of thought. "He appears to be taken with you Ned, and I'd rather not have him notice our impending disaster."
"What disaster?" Asrai asked innocently.
"We're more than four acts short." Henslowe said gloomily.
Author's Notes: And in our next chapter we'll meet...well the closest we have to the villain of the piece.