Chapter 11)
"What is Silverymoon like?" Asrai asked idly as she watched Nicholas, Ned and James as Tybalt running through the choreography of the fight. In a rare turn of events these days Tredorian had come down to watch the rehearsal with her. The play was going very well indeed, nearly done, but Tredorian was becoming more and more morose. Asrai looked at him in concern, he seemed pleased enough about the play, but she got the definite impression that he was discovering Julia was not in love with him, or at least suspecting it was so.
She turned her attention back to the stage for a moment. "Ned, if you turn your side more towards him, the blow you'll receive under Nicholas' arm will be a mortal one. A slender blade can pierce your ribs and touch a vital organ. You could be dead in just enough time to curse them both." She called as she watched them.
"Well?" She asked Tredorian again. "I've read of the great university in Silverymoon. What is it like?"
"The only place where I didn't feel completely out of place." Tredorian said wryly. "Dedicated to the arts, more than magic, there I wasn't as total a failure as I was everywhere else."
"By the Silver Marches standards." Asrai told him. "By mine you are hardly a failure."
"A hack writer, inadequate actor, known only as Marlowe's noble partner, and Alustriel's magic null son." Tredorian shook his head. "The Silver Marches have the right of me."
"If you believe that then you are a greater fool than I would have taken you for." Asrai said passionately, doing her best to keep her voice low. "For you accept the judgement of those who are so foolish as to believe magic the ultimate power." She shook her head at him. "The Silver Marches believes magic makes nobility, and disparages all those who do not posses Art. So that nation is filled with second rate mages and magisters who make a living selling spells and services when more than half of them will never do anything great, never teach anyone knowledge worth having, and never create anything wonderful. Most of them would be better off as talented craftsmen but instead they choose the path on which they will never truly thrive because of politics.
She stared at him her violet eyes blazing passionately. "There are dozens of mages Tredorian. But there is only one of you. They cannot write your plays, nor poetry, nor inspire actors to brilliance with the sheer beauty of their words. Only you can do that Tredorian. There is a magic of your own living in your soul, it captures and cajoles and enraptures the mind and heart of all who hear it when your words are spoken on stage." Asrai smiled. "If you could do magic, you might never have written so brilliantly Tredorian. Mages are copper piece a dozen. Be yourself and be glad of it. Be joyful in your own gift. Your art is greater than theirs."
"You speak as if you know something of it." Tredorian said slowly, a bit awed at her passionate response.
"I wanted more than anything to be like my older brother Andy." Asrai murmured. "When he… returned and was so changed, it hurt me. And the hurt opened my eyes. I could never be like him and I would never get his approval in the way I needed. So I left, and decided I would follow my own dream, not the one I conceived wishing to be like him."
Tredorian smiled. "Then we are both in search of new dreams Asrai, for I am at last attempting a play without the help of Marlowe."
"Piergernon wasn't any part of Marlowe," Asrai pointed out. "And much as I loved Two Gentlemen of Verona, I think Piergernon is your best work to date."
"Marlowe got me started on that one. Much as you gave me a nudge with Romeo and Ethel the Pirate's Daughter." Tredorian winced at that name and looked up as Ned came to the edge of the stage.
"I've been meaning to speak with you about that very thing." Ned said, panting as he set down his mock sword and mopped his brow. "The title won't do." He slanted a glance at Asrai and smiled. "Romeo and Juliet." He bowed slightly. "Just a suggestion."
"You're a gentleman Ned!" Tredorian called after him.
"And you're an Undermountain shithouse." Ned told him.
"He'll be missed when Mercutio dies." Asrai said quietly.
"Mercutio has to die, he's stealing all the scenes." Tredorian replied reasonably.
"Too true." Asrai agreed.
"Now you wanted to hear about Silverymoon." Tredorian began.
"Nicholas you'd best have a break." Daniel told him. "Why don't you go for a walk?"
Nicholas looked at him irately. "You don't think I can continue?" He raised himself up to his full five feet ten inches. "I am fully able to go on."
Ned looked up from where he was going over his lines. "Take a break Nicholas, and we'll go over the beginning of the fight. You look like you could use some air, and we need a rest from my death."
Nicholas scowled furiously and slammed out of the doors.
Ned sat at the edge of the stage and closed his eyes. 'No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as church door, but 'tis enough, 'twill serve…" He broke off and began to hunt through the pages.
"Ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man." Asrai fed him the line as she read through her script.
"What?" Ned looked at her.
"Ask. For. Me. To-morrow, And. You. Shall. Find. Me. A. Grave. Man." Asrai repeated the line as if to a small child.
"But how do you know the line?" Ned asked in confusion.
"I remember everything I read." Asrai shrugged off this phenomenon.
"What?" Ned tried to take this in and couldn't.
"I. Remember. Everything. I. Read." She said very slowly again.
"Will you stop doing that?" Ned demanded in exasperation.
"Then stop making me repeat myself." She told him. "I remember everything I read if it's to do with poetry or playacting, or music. My oldest brother is the one who's good at history, I'm bad about history."
Ned stared at Tredorian who shrugged. "That's handy." He observed and went back to studying his lines.
Asrai closed her eyes and listened to him doing his speech, muttering the replies of the other actors to prompt him.
Asrai watched with interest as the Montagues and the Capulets came at each other from opposite sides of the stage. "By my head here come the Capulets." Benvolio observed. "By my heel I care not." Mercutio replied.
Just as Mercutio and Tybalt were about to begin their witty and deadly exchange of words and swords Nicholas burst into the theatre. He was red in the face with running and panting, practically gasping for air.
"Nicholas what is it?" Asrai sprang to her feet as Henslowe and Tredorian hurried forward.
"Burbage…The Chamberlain's Men…" Nicholas panted. "After me…coming here."
"Why, what's wrong?" Henslowe took the slim blond actor by the shoulders and held him upright.
"Met them in the street." Nicholas gasped out. "They gave insult…I returned it…told them we were men enough for them, even with a woman in our company. They…got angry. Told me I was a second rate ranter. I struck Burbage…he struck back… I ran."
"Leading them straight here no doubt." Tredorian said in disgust. "That's the type of foolishness I'd expect from you Nicholas."
"They began it not I!" Nicholas protested.
"When you're outnumbered its best to swallow your pride and walk away." Tredorian threw his hands up in disgust. "Instead you give insult for insult and now, not only will we end up fighting, but you've put Asrai in danger too. They won't ignore her because she's a girl."
"On the contrary, they'll seek to disable her." Henslowe said in mournful certainty. "It wouldn't take much." He shook his head.
"You mean to tell me that…that wench is more important to you than I am?" Nicholas asked angrily. "As hard as I've been working?"
"You're damned right she is!" Tredorian thundered. "Asrai is twice the actor you are, and twice as professional to boot! Now get out before Burbage gets here!"
"But…" Nicholas cast a furious glance at Asrai who looked down in embarrassment.
"Get OUT!" Tredorian shouted at him furiously. "Go!"
Nicholas angrily turned away, pushing through the other actors. Henslowe looked at Tredorian worriedly. "That was not well done, though necessary," he sighed. "Perhaps we can still smooth things over with Burbage?"
Ned shrugged. "We've still a play to rehearse." He said matter-of-factly. "Let's go on."
They had just begun the scene again when the doors burst open and a dozen men armed with stage blades and cudgels burst in. "Where is that dog!" The imposing figure at the head of the band demanded to know.
"What is this rabble?" Tredorian shouted back and apparently the Chamberlain's Men needed only that excuse for they began to swarm the stage.
"Suffering cats!" Ned exclaimed as one of the Chamberlain's men charged him. He turned, sending the actor into the wings and tried to push Asrai out of harms way. "Get to safety for the love of the gods!"
"I will not!" Asrai retorted furiously drawing her sword and dagger. "I fight with you." She watched as a man swung at Tredorian and used the hilt of her blade to strike the back of the man's head.
Tredorian ducked and shouted at Ned. "Selena's Scowl! Get her out of here!" His fist slammed into another man's eye and cursed foully as his wrist ached.
Asrai however was refusing to be got out. Shortly she and Ned were in the middle of the fighting, the fact that she was a girl did not stop the enemy from trying to pummel her.
All in all the Admiral's Men were holding their own in the fight, considering they were hampered by Henslowe who kept crying 'my props' and taking the weaponry away. But the tide was turned by Fenneyman.
"Lambert!" The man shouted angrily on seeing a bench break over Ralph's head, "Vengeance!" The huge henchman waded into the fight while Fenneyman himself decided to take a hand in the proceedings.
Shortly Burbage was sprawled on his back on the floor with Fenneyman standing above him rubbing his knuckles in satisfaction. Asrai stared amazed. "Bravo Master Fenneyman." She exclaimed and behind her Ned began applauding.
Fenneyman actually blushed and looked around as the rest of the company joined in the applause.
"A famous victory!" Fenneyman shouted throwing open the doors, "Kegs and Legs, open and on the house! What a happy hour!"
Asrai blinked and cautiously stepped inside. "Tredorian, should I be here?" She whispered. Ned caught her hand and tugged her further in.
"Don't worry, Tredorian and I will protect you." He grinned and gestured for Tredorian to a chair next to Asrai while he took the one across from her.
"Is it a tavern?" She queried, looking about curiously. "The ladies are all very pretty." Her voice was wistful without realizing it.
"It is also a tavern." Tredorian looked at Ned as if realizing exactly what they were doing. They'd just brought a thirteen year old girl into a…
"Oh…I remember you!" A lovely woman in a very low cut gown sat in Tredorian's lap, "You're the poet!" Asrai's mouth opened in amazement and she stared at the woman. Ned affectionately put a finger under her chin and pushed her mouth closed while he tugged the woman off of Tredorian's lap. "Oh now, one at a time, one at a time." The woman laughed and kissed Ned heartily before she darted off.
"'Tis a house of ill-repute?" Asrai whispered as if it were a secret.
Ned grinned at her and Tredorian smiled indulgently. "But of good reputation Asrai. There's no harm in a drink. And the ladies here are very pretty, and very nice really."
Asrai caught sight of a dark haired girl with a deep red mouth. "She could be your twin Tredorian." She jerked her head at the girl and Tredorian looked and smiled.
"She seems more interested in you Asrai." Tredorian grinned.
"In me?" To their amusement Asrai began to blush furiously and Ned leant over to touch her cheek.
"I never thought to see this skin burn with anything but rage." He teased. "Do you like her?"
Asrai blushed even more deeply and groaned hiding her face in her hands. "Ned, please stop it."
"Come off it Ned." Tredorian commanded gently. "She's only thirteen. A trifle young to go wenching don't you think?"
Ned sighed and a large hand settled on Asrai's curly head rubbing it soothingly. "I keep forgetting," He apologized. "Half the time I think I'm as bad as Nicholas, but the other half I forget how young she is because she behaves as if she's old."
Tredorian grinned and tugged Asrai's hands away from her face. "My lady, that's as close as Ned's ever come to making a declaration. And he hasn't even kissed you." He chuckled at Asrai's appalled look and glanced at Ned. "Just remember that she has two older brothers and a father. And if I remember rightly, a few uncles scattered around as well."
Ned groaned. "Just give me a drink and keep reminding me all right?" He shook his head. "And you Asrai, you slap me right across the face just like you did before if I do anything offensive while in my cups."
Asrai nodded seriously and just then a round of drinks was served.