circus

Medieval 6: Giovanni 4 Old and New, part 2 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

All through November, December, and into the new year, people came. The three men from the fishing village, Maffeo, Louis, and Charles, who watched the desertion of the camp under Corriden agreed to work as roustabouts and clowns for one season to see how they liked it. He had them all sign contracts to that end and tried hard not to call them Moe, Larry, and Curly. Needles dressed them in red, white, and blue clown costumes and told them to get used to wearing them, and don’t mess them up. After that, one of his first volunteers was the fourth man in the group who actually volunteered his wife. Borges was his name. He wore the green clown suit. His wife was Gabriella and his young daughter Rosa was about twelve. Borges explained.

“It’s my wife. She grew up in a big family where cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, parents, and children all lived and ate together. She herself is one of eight children, and the eldest girl. It was rough at first, let me tell you. We been married for thirteen years and she is still cooking for about twenty. Good food too, But, you see, she grew up cooking for about fifty people.”

“Forty-six,” Gabriella corrected her husband.

“Anyway,” He looked at her to keep her quiet. “I’m thinking fishing is hard. I agree with Maffeo, Louis, and Charles. I think we might like to try something different, and I figure you need someone who can keep the circus fed. Well, my wife can do that, easy.”

“And your daughter?”

“She can help,” Borges said, and Giovanni wondered if he might find another place for the girl. He immediately thought acrobat, but he would have to wait and see who showed up.

Giovanni turned to the woman. “What do you think?”

She did not bat an eye. “I think this is the place my whole life has been leading to. I love to cook. It is what I was born to do.”

That settled things very quickly and that was one more worry off Giovanni’s mind. The food was also as good as Borges promised, and better yet, Gabriella made something like cinnamon rolls, and something like funnel cakes. Giovanni very much wanted popcorn, but he knew he would have to wait about five hundred years for the new world to be discovered.

People came into the swamp over those months.

Rugello was a fire eater and sword swallower, and a bit of a pyromaniac so he had to be watched. Umberto was a contortionist who could fit himself into a small box. He was also high strung and tended to panic at the least provocation, far worse than Constantine who was more of a normal scaredy-cat. Umberto needed to be treated with kid gloves or he could not perform. Sadly, the only one to watch both Rugello and Umberto was Piccolo, an excellent juggler who was also a terrible practical joker.

“Not ideal,” he told Oberon, but he had little choice.

At the end of November, Vader the knife thrower came in with his wife and chief victim Edwina. He was good, and even pulled out a crossbow at the end to shoot the proverbial apple off his wife’s head. Unfortunately, he was the angry, jealous type of man who probably should not have been allowed to play with anything sharp.

The first week in December, Leonardo and Marta came riding in on beautiful white horses. Marta could stand on her horse and ride in a circle. They would have to get used to the big tent ring. Leonardo could make his horse walk backwards, and they could get both horses to stand on their hind legs. It was not quite an act and needed polish, but the elements were there. Besides, the horses were magnificent.

Giovanni said, “Yee-haw.”

The third week in December, Severas came barreling into the swamp driving a mule driven wagon that carried a great cage. The wife, Berta, got down with a look like she did not appreciate his driving techniques. Giovanni looked in the cage.

“You have a bear?”

“I do,” the man said. “He is very sleepy right now and that makes him grumpy, but I assure you he is a gentle beast and well trained.”

“What can he do?”

“Sir Brutus can sit, lie down, roll over all on command. He can stand, an imposing sight, and roar, also on command. he can also kick a ball and play catch.”

Giovanni merely nodded, and the sleepy bear got signed up mostly sight unseen.

Right after the new year, Giovanni got his wish. Portence, a middle aged mother showed up with her two sons and explained. “Their father was a great acrobat while he was alive and he taught the boys when they were young.

“We’ve been practicing,” one boy said, but his mother hushed him.

Giovanni crossed his fingers and took them into the barn where he had his ring set up.

Borges and the three stooges were presently practicing with the tents. They took the tents out in the morning and set them up. Getting the big tent set up so it would stay up was imperative. Doing it in a reasonably short time was also important. They had to get all the seats into the big tent and set up the circus show tent, and the smaller tent of wonders as well before lunch. After lunch, they took everything down and packed it for travel. Taking it all down in a reasonable time without tearing anything or straining the lumber was also imperative.

So, Giovanni set up the ring in the barn and watched as the boys did cartwheels, back handsprings, walked on their hands, and one did a back flip. Giovanni immediately called Rosa. He had worked with her a bit when he feared she might be his only choice. She did her cartwheel and three back handsprings in a row, ending with an imperfect landing, though she was pleased with herself.

Giovanni did not have to think twice. “Boys. Rose,” he said and made a point of including their mother, “And Lady Portence. We have a lot of work to do and only two months to do it.” He had a suggestion for Portence. “Why don’t you see what you can do to help Gabriella in the cooking area over there. Growing boys… and girls need to eat to stay strong, and the way this circus family is growing, Gabriella probably needs the help, and everyone works in the circus.”

Portence looked at her boys and nodded. She well understood everyone needing to pitch in. The boys were busy introducing themselves to Rosa. “Nicholi. Gergori,” they said. They looked about fifteen, or maybe Nicholi was sixteen.

“I’m Rosa.” That was all she needed to say, but she added with her smile, “I’m thirteen.” She was not quite thirteen yet.

The very next day, another wagon came into the camp. It was a wooden covered wagon looking a bit like an early Romani wagon where one might expect to find a bed inside. It was painted in bright colors, and the outside said Rostanzio the Magnificent. The man looked like he liked to eat, and his voice, plenty loud, echoed around the swamp.

“Here I am,” he said. “Come to save the day. I am Rostanzio, master of the mystical arts and purveyor of all magic. Allow me to introduce my wife and assistant Marie.” By contrast, Marie was a small woman and very skinny. “Allow me but a half hour of time to set up and I will demonstrate greatness, even as my father, the Great Migliore taught me.”

“Take your time,” Giovanni said, and by the time the man got everything set, he had a whole crowd of watchers. To be honest, he was a second-rate magician. The tricks worked well enough, but they were rather simple. when he finished, Giovanni said, “The circus needs a magician, but you need to work on an ending for the act. You need a boffo ending.”

“What is boffo?” he asked.

“Slam-bang great,” Giovanni answered.

Others came, though not many of them were added to the circus. Eventually, Giovanni found some more men to be his actual roustabouts, and they and their wives were trained to run the booths on the midway. They also practiced carrying things in and out of the circle as the acts changed. Finally, Giovanni appointed Borges, the green clown to be the head man and triple check the equipment and make sure the men changed the sets in record time.

Then he hoped to relax because by the end of January, he was exhausted. Naturally, that was when there was trouble.

Medieval 6: Giovanni 4 Old and New, part 1 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

The next day, the winter camp looked deserted. That day, men came out from the local town and dug a hole under the old oak. They placed Don Vincenzo Giovanni the second in the hole and began to fill it in. Father rested next to Mother. On the other side laid the grave of Don Vincenzo Giovanni the first, his wife, and their daughter, Giovanni’s aunt that he barely remembered.

“The graveyard is filling up,” Constantine said. He was one of the ones who stayed, along with Madigan the musician, Baklovani the wolfman who hated Corriden, and Titania, the bearded fat lady who cried. Madigan got out his horn and played a short and soft funeral piece. Madigan was a concert quality musician, and a good leader of the musical group. Sadly, he no longer had a musical group.

The priest who came out from the church in town along with the grave diggers said all the appropriate words and prayers. He added one note before he returned to town. “Your father was a good man. I am sure he is in a better place.”

Giovanni said nothing. Titania said thank you for him. Constantine echoed the thank you while Madigan looked at his horn and lowered his eyes. Moments later, Constantine pointed and let out a honk, sounding like disturbed goose or a missed note on Madigan’s horn. Everyone looked.

Four people walked across the swamp in an area that was not safe to walk but did not seem to be bothered by the water or the mud. It took a minute for Giovanni to figure it out. The male dwarf had no beard! The female dwarf, however, had some straggling bits of hair on her chin. The man beside them looked nearly seven feet tall and far too broad in the shoulders for an ordinary man. Giovanni feared for one second that it was a half giant, but then he noticed some troll in there, and maybe a small bit of ogre. The woman was clearly an elder elf, pure blood, and a high elf at that. Madigan and Titania both took a giant step back, and Constantine took two steps back, but Giovanni just folded his arms and waited for their guests to arrive.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked.

“Lady Alice sent us,” the dwarf said, and both Giovanni and the dwarf wife responded.

“Liar.”

“Okay. Okay,” the dwarf put up his hands like he wanted to start again. “We were in Avalon and saw when your father died. We saw when Corriden the scoundrel deserted you and all the traitors that went with him. We thought you could use some acts and help to keep the Don Giovanni circus up and running.”

“Don’t give up,” the elf said. “Even now there are people on the road coming to audition.”

Giovanni nodded. He understood they had little ones, elves, fairies, and dwarfs scouring the roads, looking for suitable acts and suggesting they come to Venice, but he caught something else in the life of this elf, and he spoke. “I am sorry your troop asked you to leave, but the circus is like a family. We can be your family.”

The elf’s eyes got big before she lowered her head and spoke softly. “I am old now, but my lord is kind to your servant.”

“Madam Figiori,” the dwarf said, pointing to the elf. “She is the best fortune teller in the business. Of course you know the elves frown on soothsaying, and she even sometimes gets glimpses of the future. Sad.” The dwarf shook his head.

“But what about you?” Giovanni asked. He looked at the giant who stood quietly holding his hat. He glanced at the dwarf wife holding her bundle of cloth before his eyes returned to the dwarf.

“I’m Oberon,” he said.

“Not your real name,” Giovanni said with a smile. Madam Figiori was not her real name either, but he was used to circus people using fake names, so it did not bother him. “What is your story?”

“Can’t grow a beard,” he said in a very flat voice. “I got nary a hair on my chin, cheeks, or lip. I don’t know why.” He paused and looked at who he was talking to. The Kairos was technically his god from ancient days. “You might know why. But anyway, I figure you need a dwarf and a clown at that. Plus, I’m good with figures, so I can keep the accounts straight and pay everyone, and make sure everyone gets a fair share.”

Giovanni turned his eyes back to the dwarf wife.

“Now my wife is Goldiwig, but everyone calls her Needles. She is a fair cook but a genius with needle and thread. I figure she can make all your costumes and keep the tents from leaking besides.” He puffed out his chest like he was proud of her, but she looked down and turned slightly red. “Just look at this.” He held up a pair of shorts and stretched the elastic top. “Genius, I tell you. She calls it dwarf weave, as opposed to fairy weave. Guaranteed to fit.”

“Elastic!” Giovanni named it. “One size doesn’t fit all, though.”

“No,” the dwarf wife agreed. “But it will keep your pants on if you put on a pound or two or take some off.”

“Needles then,” Giovanni agreed and looked at the big fellow.

“This here is Sibelius,” Oberon said and Giovanni interrupted as he remembered.

“Half human. three-eighths troll and one-eighth ogre. I remember your mother, and your brothers Oswald and Edmund. Did they do well and did you live well in your new place?”

“We did,” Sibelius said with a big smile.

“And how is your father, Vortesvin? Still haunting the mountains of Norway?”

“Yes. He is well, but old now.”

“Yes. You must be what, ninety-five or so?” Giovanni was not sure where that number came from, but it sounded about right.

“Something like that.”

“Well, we could certainly use a strong man now that Corriden has left, thank goodness.

Madigan, Baklovani, and Titania had inched back up by then, and even Constantine stepped forward. Giovanni introduced them and said, “I think we have a foundation for a new and better circus.” He would go with this gift and see who showed up before April. He just thought he better get some good acts or it will be a short circus.

Needles broke the ice with a comment to Titania. She touched the straggly bits of hair on her own chin and said, “I like your beard. How did you get it to grow so full?”

After a second, Titania answered in her squeaky, high pitched little voice. “Thank you. It’s natural.”

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MONDAY

Don Giovanni slowly builds his new circus as acts come all through the winter to try out. Just when he is exhausted from it all, the trouble shows up. Happy Reading…

 

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Medieval 6: Giovanni 3 Down and Out, part 2 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

In the morning, Giovanni sat on the steps to his house and stared out at the very big barn, the stables, the workhouse, the tents, the wagons, and the animals that covered the property. He did not know if he was ready to run a circus. It was a big undertaking for an eighteen-year-old. He honestly did not know what to do. He feared he might lose the circus to Corriden if the people decided not to take directions from a boy, as he thought of himself. Fortunately, the feeling did not last long as he heard from Lady Alice of Avalon. She spoke directly into his mind from wherever she was, in the universe, out of the universe, in the past, or in the future. She said, “Just do your best. That is all we can ever do.”

Deep inside his heart, Giovanni reached out to the many lives he lived in the past and the future. Perhaps they reached out to him in his time of grieving and need. He remembered becoming the Nameless god to confront the Flesh Eaters in the north. It was an interesting experience, to be a different person for a while, though in a sense it was still him. He lived Nameless’ life a couple of thousand years ago. He died and moved on from him into the next life, and the next life, and the one after that. It was also interesting that Giovanni was able to reach back in time and borrow that life for his need. Up until that point he had no idea he could do that—trade lives with other lives he once lived. He thought maybe Nameless kind of forced himself on the ten-year-old boy. Nameless was a god. He could do that. But just as well, Giovanni thought. He imagined it would not have been safe to face the Flesh Eaters as anything less than a god. Right now, though, he needed someone who knew something about running a circus.

Giovanni reached down to his feet and pulled up a handful of grass that grew there. He easily held the clump of grass in his hand, like it was all grass and all one, but when he opened his hand, the individual strands of grass blew away on the wind, all going in their own direction, all headed back to the ground from whence they came.

Giovanni remembered most of the lifetimes nearest his own time, with only a few gaps in that memory. He remembered Greta, the wise woman of Dacia in the time of Marcus Aurelius. Festuscato Cassius Agitus, who called himself the last senator of Rome, and Gerraint, King of Cornwall, who hung out with King Arthur, Percival, and the rest of the round table. Margueritte, Margravine of the Saxon March actually grew up on the border of Brittany in the time of Charles Martel, and she got followed by Genevieve who became the Margravine of Provence under Charlemagne.

He remembered Genevieve had to deal with space alien Apes, the sworn enemies of the Flesh Eaters. The Apes were a kind and gentle people, and vegetarian. It was in his next life, Elgar the Saxon, where he first had to deal with Flesh Eaters. He could not let them live. They tried to start a colony and would have multiplied at an alarming rate. Anyway, after that, he lived as Kirstie before Yasmina, two girls who only had minor inconveniences with the Apes and Flesh Eaters. And now, Giovanni.

He wondered why he thought through all that. None of them knew anything about running a circus.

Giovanni turned his thoughts to the future… Well, some future and some past. There were six lifetimes in particular that always seemed to be available no matter what life he was living. Lady Alice of Avalon showed up in his lives on a regular basis, and the Captain, her male counterpart showed up often enough. Alice and the Captain were what they called genetic reflections, which was like identical twins of the opposite sex if that made any sense.

He remembered the Princess from the past and the Storyteller from the future. They went together for some reason, kind of like partners in time. Then there were their two genetic reflections. Diogenes of Macedonia went with the Princess. Doctor Mishka who fought in both world wars in the twentieth century went with the Storyteller who was lucky not to have to fight in any war.

Giovanni paused. He thought the good doctor could have come. He could have traded places with her through time and she could have cured his father. He started to get angry again until he heard from Mishka, speaking down through time and into his head.

“Not authorized to do that,” Mishka said. “I am sorry about your father. We all go through that. But anyway, there is no magical-medical cure for being stabbed to death.”

Oh yeah, Giovanni thought rather sheepishly. He wondered if he had a genetic reflection somewhere in time. He imagined she must be in the future somewhere. No idea where or when. Anyway, these lifetimes did not know any more about the circus than the others, though Alice keeping Avalon running was a bit like a circus. She had to deal with all those fairies, elves, goblins, dwarfs, and sprites of the air, water, and fire, and what a confusing mess that could be. He let out a small laugh when Corriden, with Porto and Damien of course, came to face him. He saw some of the others hovering around in the background, in particular Berlio the magician and his wife Priscilla.

“We took a vote,” Corriden began. “We decided we are not going to take orders from a boy. I’m sorry about your father, but we have to think about our future.”

“What do you intend?” Giovanni asked. For some reason, this did not come as a surprise.

Corriden paused to glance back at his supporters. “I will be running the circus. If you are good, you can continue as ringmaster, but all the decisions and money will be mine to control.”

“You understand the big tent, the circus tent, in fact, all of the tents, the booths for the midway, the wagons, the things in the workshop and barn and all of the animals belong to me. I am the Don Giovanni now and as the only son of my father, I own it all. You understand?”

Corriden nodded but his words suggested otherwise. “They all belong to the circus.”

“Wrong.” Giovanni shouted and stood on the step so he looked down on Corriden, Damien, and Porto. “They are my property and all of it stays here with me. And for that matter, this whole swamp, the buildings, the fishing village, and all is my property, and right now you are trespassing.”

Corriden nearly growled. “This was not unanticipated.”

“Nor was this,” Giovanni said. “I’ll tell you what. You can take the two wagons Father said would have to be replaced for the new season, and I’ll be generous. You can have two oxen to haul them. Then I want you and every one that is going with you to pack your personal items and be off my property in two hours.”

“That is not right,” Corriden complained. “That is not nearly enough time.” He pulled a knife.

Giovanni called out and became dressed in the armor of the Kairos, complete with a sword at his back. He pulled the sword, not that he knew exactly how to use it, but pointing it at Corriden’s throat was all he needed to do to make the point. “I am not asking,” he said, doing his best to control the anger in his voice and the tears in his eyes. “Two hours.”

Corriden did growl, but he put his knife away. He turned to walk off and Giovanni yelled. “And if you take any of my things, I will come with the watch and have you arrested as a thief and thrown in jail.”

Corriden waved that he heard before he began to shout. “Get your things, just personal items. We are going to the farm. Porto and Damien. Get two oxen for these wagons and get them ready to go.”

It took six hours for everyone to leave but by then, Giovanni had gotten four men from the fishing village to watch and make sure the deserters did not take anything more than their personal items. Many appeared to be having second thoughts, but the thrust of the crowd was to follow Corriden, so they left. The cook was the last to leave, around sundown. She cooked for the circus for ten years, and cried a little, though some of those tears may have been for what Giovanni now called the chuck wagon. She had to leave her wagon and portable oven behind, and all the food with it.

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Medieval 6: Giovanni 3 Down and Out, part 1 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

In October of 997, in Verona, when the circus was on its way home, Giovanni turned eighteen. For one moment he felt all grown up, but then his father got sick and he felt lost.

Corriden stepped up to take the ringmaster’s place. Giovanni did not think that was a good idea. Corriden was the strongman and as stubborn, some would say as strong in his mind as he was with his muscles. He had no flexibility. If Berlio the Magician and his wife-assistant Priscilla were not ready, he would announce the man anyway if he was next. Then everyone would have to wait until Berlio got ready. It would drag the show. In fact, the whole show dragged because Corriden did not understand that the ringmaster had to be quick on his feet. Sometimes a joke would be enough. Sometimes the harlequin, who was sort of the chief clown, was an integral part of keeping the momentum flowing. He might come and do some handsprings, or maybe tell the joke. Sometimes all the clowns could help out. They had a couple of short routines they could use as filler. Sometimes, the ringmaster could skip the magician for Constantine, the tightrope walker and then after Constantine have Berlio perform. But no. Corriden had his set order and his little papers with the written introductions that he read like a true hack actor and that was that. Worst of all, he thought it all went well.

After Verona, even the ones who supported Corriden, and initially that seemed like most of the circus, thought it best to let the younger Giovanni give it a try. Giovanni stole another line from the future to go with the Greatest Show on Earth line. He said into the megaphone, “Ladies and gentlemen, and children of all ages. Welcome to the Don Giovanni Circus, the Greatest Show on Earth. We begin with the traditional and magnificent circus parade.” The music began. Everyone in the circus paraded except the cooks who had to watch the fires. Everyone walked decked out in their fanciest, frilliest, most colorful outfits including the horses and the dogs. That day, the people had confidence and put on their best performances. They said the younger Giovanni was a natural.

Corriden griped and yelled a lot, but the only thing Giovanni cared about was his father. Don Giovanni senior did not get better. In fact he got worse.

When they got back to Venice, they got the best doctor in town to come and look at him, but the doctor was as stumped as the doctor in Verona, and the doctor in Padua. He said, “Maybe it is due to something he ate.”

Giovanni did not buy that explanation. “It has been too long. If it was something he ate it would have passed through his system by now.”

“Perhaps,” the doctor said. “But I don’t know what else it might be.”

“It seems more like slow poison,” Giovanni voiced his suspicion. “Do you know any drugs that could be used that way?”

The doctor paused and looked at his patient. “Some drugs. Some natural things, too, like certain flowers and such. The problem is we have no way of identifying what it might be, so we have no idea what the cure might be.”

Giovanni thanked the doctor when the cook came in with some broth and said he must eat so he can to keep up his strength. Giovanni also thanked the cook before he pulled up a chair. He spoon fed his father what his father was willing to slurp down, but Father finally waved off more. He spoke. His voice sounded weak. This was not the father who yelled at ten-year-old Vincenzo to clean the stables.

“You go,” he said. “You need to live your life and not worry about me. I think I will sleep for a while.”

Giovanni nodded in general agreement, but he worried. “Titania has been by a hundred times and says she wants to sit by your door in case you need anything.”

Father smiled, almost chuckled, and mumbled, “The bearded fat lady.”

“And Baklovani the wolfman has been by almost as much.”

Father nodded a little. “They are good people. Never forget that. Deep down they are good people.”

Giovanni knew that. “I’ll go and let you rest.” He walked out the door and saw Titania hovering around the cooking tent. He called to her. “Titania. I’m going out to stretch my legs a bit. Would you mind keeping one eye open in case Father needs something.”

“Yes I will,” she said in the sweetest little voice which no one would ever guess would come out of such a big woman, especially one with a beard.

“Did he eat the broth?” the cook asked.

“Some of it,” Giovanni said, and turned away. He decided he needed some comfort at the moment. Madam Delfin lived in the first town up the road, the one with the docks where the ships from Venice came in. She was twice his age, but her husband died and she inherited it all, having no children. She was always good for a tussle, but she had a motherly streak about her at times which made it a shame that she had no children. The thought crossed Giovanni’s mind that maybe he needed Madam Delfin to mother him a bit and tell him everything would be all right.

Roughly four in the morning, he heard Damien, one of Corriden’s hangers-on yelling his name in the streets. He got up, and though Madam Delfin tried to hold on to him, he made it to the window.

“Damien,” he yelled. The man rode to beneath the window.

“It is your father,” Damien shouted. “Someone broke into the house and your father got stabbed. They ransacked the house. Hurry.”

Giovanni turned but got grabbed. Madam Delfin got in one last kiss before she let him go. He threw on his clothes, ran down and saddled his horse in no time. He rode like a wild man, even when he turned off the road and into the swamp.

The house was a wreck. They would not let him see his father at first. He was dead, stabbed several times, and Giovanni cried before he got angry. He went to the desk and opened the bottom drawer. The money was gone. He looked up at Baklovani and Constantine the tightrope walker before he shrugged. He removed the false back to the drawer and saw the money was gone from there as well.

“Unless Father took the money out from there for some reason,” he mumbled.

After he put the desk back together, he cried some more, maybe until sunrise.

Medieval 6: Giovanni 2 Women and Questions, part 1 of 1

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Giovanni discovered girls as early as twelve. Being Don Giovanni III, master of the circus got them curious. By thirteen, his smooth and confident manner got them interested. He was not much older before they started rolling in the hay.

The circus wintered in the swampland on the mainland of Venice granted to Don Giovanni the first, along with his knighthood. The Doge said he would rather have those strange circus people in the swamps than an enemy army. Around April something, the Circus began its season. They had what young Giovanni called dress rehearsals in Padua before they hit some small towns in the Po River Valley. They practiced in the small towns and villages in both the circus tent and the smaller tent they called the tent of wonders that Giovanni secretly called the freak show. Then they crossed the river to Modena where they set up the big tent. It was the last chance to practice the big show before they got to Bologna, the first city since Padua. From there they went to Ravena, and all the way down the east coast of Italy to Fermo where they crossed the hills to Spoleto. They were in fine form when somewhere near the first week of July they crossed over to Rome. They stayed in Rome for a week and gave as many as five performances in the big tent, but mostly people rested up for the second half of the season. They did not perform on Sunday, of course, though they often traveled on Sunday.

The first half of the season took about three months. They rested and performed about forty-five days and they traveled about forty-five days leaving early in the morning and traveling until two, or sometimes three, unless of course it was pouring rain. They tried to make up to fifteen miles in a day, about two and a half miles per hour, though it seemed for every day they made fifteen, there was another day where they barely made five so they averaged about ten. In the villages and small towns they tried to open the tent of wonders at four and put on the smaller show in the circus tent at five. If warranted, on those summer days when the sun stayed up late, they might put on a second show in the tent of wonders where they might include some small acts, like the juggler, fire eater, or clowns that the people might have missed in the circus tent. Then the circus people got up and had an early breakfast, packed everything, and left an hour or maybe two after sunup. In the big towns and cities they often stayed three or four days. The big tent went up and they might perform two or three shows in the big tent at five. On those days, the tent of wonders would open at two and give a second showing at four, and the circus tent would have a show at three where the people got a taste of what would be in the big show, and they were encouraged not to miss it.

The second half of the season, the big half with sixty days of travel and sixty days in the towns and cities brought them up the west coast. They went to Pisa, Genoa, Turin if there was time, and Milan. From Milan they followed a familiar path that made everyone think of home. It was Milan, Brescia, Verona, Vicenza, Padua again, and back to Venice. They usually got home at the end of October or the first week in November and performed one last week, two or three performances for the people of Venice before the cold weather kicked in.

From young Giovanni’s perspective, he learned to take advantage of all that moving about. To be sure, he imagined himself as worse than a sailor. He had a girl or two in every city, and some in the countryside as well. Most of them were peasants but some of them were quite wealthy and well-to-do ladies who could not resist him and the chance to be naughty.

On one bright and crisp winter day in Venice, he was just coming back from just such a rendezvous with a fine lady when he ran into the last person he expected. He got up on some steps because the young man rode in the streets, an unusual thing in Venice. The young man looked surrounded by soldiers and some men who looked like they served the Doge. Giovanni halfheartedly waved, but it was enough to catch the young man’s eye. The man smiled broadly and yelled.

“Don Giovanni.”

This is not what Giovanni wanted. The whole crowd turned to look at him, especially the women who certainly thought something. Giovanni quickly pushed through the crowd before he could be grabbed by any of the women or stabbed by any of the men. He did not mind hugging the young man who had gotten down from his horse, and he named him.

“Otto. Good to see you again.”

He took a step back and they both remembered the secret circus handshake, and Otto laughed and spouted. “You were right. The Greatest Show on Earth. It was incredible. When can I come again?”

“Winter quarters right now,” Giovanni admitted. “The season starts in April and runs through the first week or so in November. Then everyone rests about four months, and comes up with new acts, new ideas, new tricks, and such for the next season. We start again in April.”

Otto nodded, like it was a serious discussion. It was a practiced look, no doubt, when he got surrounded by older men who were presumably wiser men. “I have only three questions… make that four. First, how did your father ever come up with the idea of a circus?”

“It was my grandfather. The Doge, a couple of Doges back, was so impressed, he knighted my grandfather in perpetuity and gave him the swampland on the mainland. Better than an enemy army in the swamp, he said. We have a house, big barn and stables, workshop, tents, and wagons everywhere, plenty of farm animals, and a small fishing village on the coast that keeps us all fed. Not much to speak of, all things considered, and certainly not land that anyone else would want.”

“But the circus?”

“Ah,” Giovanni drew out the word. “The circus, like the old Roman circus which was a place of entertainment. There are people everywhere that have talents. Some are peculiar talents. Some are peculiar people. They have traveled around like beggars since Roman times, performing in towns and villages for the few pennies that get thrown their way. It is a hard way to make a living, especially since the road is a dangerous place to be. My grandfather got the idea of gathering many of these performers together and putting on a great show. They could actually charge money to see the show, a more certain and regular income for everyone, and a whole train of people to travel, so less likely to run afoul of the typical thieves and robbers most travelers have to watch out for.”

“Brilliant,” Otto said. “I imagined something like that.” He looked around. The soldiers were keeping back and keeping the crowd back, but one old man came up to listen in. Two oddly familiar looking men, one short and one big, followed but kept back a couple of extra steps. The old gentleman kindly did not interrupt at first, so Otto continued.

“So, second. Have you seen any more ships flying around in the sky?”

“Shh…” Giovanni hushed Otto and quieted his voice. “That is something that is best not made public. I went and spoke to the Flesh Eaters, and did not get eaten, thank God. There are twelve of them. That was what they call a shuttle, like the longboat on a sailing ship men use to escape when the ship is sunk in battle. Their ship got destroyed in a battle and they escaped on the shuttle. They just needed a place to hide for a while, though it has been seven years now and that should be long enough. They promised to not eat any people while they are hiding, so that is a good thing, but they don’t exactly pay for the cows, horses, pigs, and sheep they take.” Giovanni shrugged.

Otto nodded and hushed himself. “So, I hear you are getting quite a reputation with the ladies.” He grinned like he was talking about something risqué, which he was.

“The younger Giovanni is a scoundrel of the worst sort,” the older man finally interrupted. “Makes me want to put a guard around my daughter.”

“But what are you doing here?” Giovanni changed the subject.

“Most of the army is around Rome, but I wanted to renew the Empire’s friendship and trade agreements with Pietro II Orseolo. Part of the agreement involves me marrying Petro II’s niece, Lord Stephano’s daughter.”

“That’s me,” the older man said. “Lord Stephano.” He gave Giovanni his hardest practiced stare, but Giovanni was not fazed by it as his focus stayed on what Otto just said. Giovanni even raised his voice a little.

“Otto. You are sixteen. I’m seventeen but nowhere near ready to marry. What are you thinking?”

“It is the way alliances are made,” he said with just the right touch of sadness.

“It isn’t right, especially for the girl who has no say in the matter.”

“It is the way it is done,” Lord Stephano said.

“Doesn’t make it right,” Giovanni responded with a sharp look at Lord Stephano who did not appear to disagree with him entirely. “Fathers want their daughters to be happy, not stuck in a situation they might not like. At least with you, I know you will make the effort, but still… Did you at least get a look at her.”

“We looked at each other from a distance. I did not seem to impress her.”

“She is but fourteen years old. The marriage will not happen at this time,” Lord Stephano interrupted.

“How about you?” Giovanni asked.

Otto wrinkled his lips like he had to be careful with his words. “I am not sure she is my type, but maybe when we get to know each other…”

Giovanni nodded before he shook his head and smiled. “All women seem to be my type.”

“So we have heard.” Lord Stephano said and suggested with his hands that Otto needed to get back to his horse and on to his destination. The short man and big man brought up their four horses.

Giovanni interrupted. “But wait. The circus. The ship.” He pointed to the sky. “And the women. You said there were four things.”

Otto turned toward his horse but spoke over his shoulder. “Did you get your elephant?”

“Not yet, but I am working on it,” Giovanni answered. “When I get one, I’ll bring it to you so you can see it for yourself.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Otto said as he mounted and the troop of horses moved carefully through the streets and headed for the palace, or maybe to the shipyard where they could take the horses aboard for transport back to the mainland.

************************

MONDAY

There is a death in the family and Corriden wants to take over the circus. Corriden takes most of the circus with him, but the Kairos has friends. Until then, Happy Reading

*

Medieval 6: Giovanni 1 Friends and Strangers part 2 of 2

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Early that evening, Giovanni hid around the food wagon which he decided should be called a chuck wagon. Along with all the food, the wagon carried a big portable oven to cook bread and pastries, a double sized grill to cook fish, chicken, and sausages, plenty of pots and pans for soups, stews, and other fried foods, and plenty of wood for the fire. The chuck wagon got hauled by a pair of oxen that were young and strong enough to pull all that weight.

The cook and her assistants cooked and grilled in plain sight of their visitors, which is what the circus called the people who came to be entertained and paid with coppers, and sometimes silver coins. The cooks sat at one end of the midway, next to the big tent. The small tent they called the tent of wonders sat across the midway from the food. Those two framed the entrance to the big tent when the big tent got set up in the bigger towns and cities. The so-called circus tent sat at the other end of the midway. It was a tent about the size of the center ring in the Big tent so big enough to give a very short version of the show. It was the only show they gave in the small towns and villages where they did not even put up the big tent, but it got designed as both a show in itself and also a taste of what the people might see in the big show, in the big tent. Between the tent of wonders and the food at one end, and the circus tent at the far end, the midway ran full of glitter, flags, banners, bright colors, and games on both sides as well as some special tents, like the tent for the fortune teller. Everything cost a penny or two, but nothing was very expensive.

The circus, as Giovanni’s father explained, was supposed to be for the common people, the ones who did not have many, if any coins to spare. “It is a way for the ordinary people to get a break from their dreary, ordinary lives. A bit of exciting, exotic, different entertainment that they can talk about and remember in the many months ahead, and especially through the long winter months.” Father said, “I like to think of it as a way to help make their lives worth living.”

Giovanni paused to wonder if he liked to hang out near the food because he was becoming a teenager, or at least a preteen at ten years old. He smiled and nodded. He liked food.

He paused again and thought about Otto, and changed it to his friend, Otto. As can happen with young people, in the moment they met they became friends and would remain friends in all the years to come no matter what time or distance separated them. He hoped Otto liked the show. He imagined Otto was a count or baron of some sort. That would not matter to them. He also imagined Otto would have important things to do, and especially when he got older. But at least he should not have to clean the stables. Giovanni grinned but stopped abruptly when he heard a voice.

“And you also have important things to do.” It was a man’s voice. Giovanni quickly looked around, thinking his hiding spot got discovered. No one was there.

“Who are you?” he asked, but softly so as not to reveal where he was.

“You,” the man said. “I am Nameless, but that does not matter. What matters is you cannot let a Flesh Eater ship fly off to the north without checking it out. This is a genesis planet, and they have no business even being here. If they need sanctuary for a time or need to make repairs, they might visit, but there are rules they must follow. They must be told. Best if they are not even seen by the human population. And for these Flesh Eaters, they must be told and underlined that they are certainly not allowed to eat any people.”

Giovanni paused again before he answered in his whisper. “I understood most of that.”

He heard Nameless sigh in his mind before Nameless spoke again. “As happens far too often, you really are too young for this. Your personality, or I should say your personhood is not yet fully formed. The last thing you need is a bunch of other persons messing up your future and the way you see yourself and the world. I will try to make this like a dream experience that might fade for a time. When you are of age, it will come back to you, but in the meanwhile…”

Nameless stopped speaking and appeared in that spot in place of Giovanni. Where Giovanni went was a question, but for the moment, the Nameless god the grandson of the Alfader Odin, had work to do. He vanished from that place having got an instant reading on where the Flesh Eaters came down. He reappeared in a forest of Bavaria, near the Danube, between Augsburg and Ulm.

One of the Flesh Eaters saw him right away and pulled his gun. As Nameless walked to the edge of the camp, the Flesh Eater fired. The weapon did not even slow Nameless down, and as he raised his hand, the Flesh Eater handgun appeared to hover just beyond that hand. Nameless closed his hand, making a fist, and the handgun crumpled into a little ball of metal before it dropped to the ground.

The Flesh Eaters came in a twelve-person shuttle that parked in the clearing; its engines shut down. Nameless felt it best to speak to all the Flesh Eaters at once so later they could not say they did not hear or were not told or did not know. He waved his hand and they all appeared in front of him. Several shrieked, and Nameless nodded. Twelve humans instantly transported that way would make a similar sound.

“This planet is marked do not go in your navigation system. You do not belong here. You cannot park here.” Nameless smiled at that last phrase. He had been saying that for more than five thousand years.

“We have no choice,” the Flesh Eater chief found the courage to speak when Nameless toned down his awesome nature to almost nothing. “We are survivors. Our ship was destroyed in a great battle. Our shuttle is badly damaged. We noted this world is also marked as a sanctuary planet. We came here to hide in case the enemy tries to follow us. We have sent out a distress call, but we do not know if there are any of our kind left alive to rescue us.”

Nameless noted that the twelve were all males. At least he should not have to worry about them multiplying. “I cannot say about the possibility of rescue or not, but I can say there are rules you must follow in this place. If you break the rules, I will know. You came here to hide in hope of rescue. Very well, then you must also hide from the people of this world. It would be best if you and your ship are not ever seen by the people. Also, you must not eat the people.” He paused and waved his hand over the group to make it so before he told them. “If you eat a person, it will be poison to you and you will die. You may eat of the animals of this world, but never the people. Is that clear?”

Several Flesh Eaters quickly jutted out their tongues and ground their teeth which Nameless understood as something like a human nod of agreement.

He finished. “Killing or interfering with the natural course of development of the people is not allowed. Do not abuse your time of sanctuary, and you may live. Better yet, repair your craft and find another world to hide. Is that clear?”

This time, most of the tongues came out and most of the teeth showed.

“Good,” Nameless vanished. He reappeared in Giovanni’s place by the cooking wagon where he traded places with a different life, Amun Junior, the son of Amun and Ishtar from Egypt and the Middle East. He let his consciousness travel all the way to India where he found a man and his son who performed some tricks with an elephant. Not at this time, he thought. But maybe if the son got older and got a baby elephant he could train from birth. He put that thought in the boy’s head and stood behind the chuck wagon in time for Giovanni’s father to come around the corner looking for him.

“Vincenzo,” the man called before he stopped and stared at the stranger. “Who are you, and what are you doing by the food wagon.”

“I am your son,” he said. “I just borrowed his time and place to run an errand. Listen.” The elder Giovanni found he could not do anything but listen. “Your son is still too young and impressionable for this. It would be best if you did not talk about me. I will be like a dream to him. You can talk when he is eighteen, but not before. Is that clear?” He said is that clear because that was the phrase Nameless used. He really was the same person after all, no matter how many different people he might be throughout time.

Junior nodded and vanished. Giovanni appeared right where he had been sitting. He sat up suddenly and rubbed his eyes. “I must have fallen asleep,” he said, before he added, “What is that great smell?”

Giovanni Senior stared at the spot where Junior vanished before he shook himself and turned to his son. “Cook is baking some honey cakes for supper. Aren’t you supposed to be feeding the oxen?”

“Oh yeah,” Giovanni said. “I’ll get right to it.” He would have run off, but the elder Giovanni slipped his arm around his boy and walked him to the animal pen. The elder thought about what he just saw and had no idea what that was or how to interpret it. The younger one thought about the elephant and smiled.

Medieval 6: Giovanni 1 Friends and Strangers part 1 of 2

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After 979 A. D. Venice, Italy, and the Holy Roman Empire

Kairos 106 Don Vincenzo Giovanni, Ringmaster

“Hey, kid. Over here.” Giovanni hid between a wagon and the back of the Circus tent. The kid came quickly and ducked down. He said something Giovanni did not understand, like he was speaking a foreign language. Giovanni simply nodded and pushed the back of the boy’s head to keep it down as the acrobats went by shouting for Otto, whoever that was.

Giovanni dressed in his Sunday best, though his clothes were not the best. He got forced into a bath and made to dress. They were giving a command performance that afternoon. Giovanni was not sure who it was for unless the pope or some cardinals or archbishops got some time off from their prayers. Rome was full of self-important people with big egos who liked to be in charge.

He looked at his companion. The boy was dressed in fancy, expensive clothes. Real Fancy. Maybe he was part of the group for the command performance. “Otto?” he guessed and asked the boy. To his surprise he understood what the boy said in response. It came as a bit of a shock to Giovanni because up until that point he had no idea how to speak German.

“Mother wants us to go in and sit and wait for the show to start, but I want to see the mermaid, and the wolfman, and the lion. My god, there is a lion.”

“You will see them in the show,” Giovanni said. “Well, not the mermaid, but all the others. I’m Don Giovanni. This is my circus.”

“No. You are too young, like me. I’m nine.”

Giovanni lifted his chin. “I’m ten. But, okay. It is my father’s circus, but someday it will be mine. The Don Giovanni Circus will be the greatest show on earth. Someday, I am going to get an elephant.”

“What’s an elephant?”

Giovanni considered describing the beast, but he concluded with, “You’ll see when I get one.”

Otto nodded and had another thought. “I would like another one of those hot cakes.”

“Honey cakes. Full of sweets. Bad for the teeth.”

Otto stuck his head up to look, but Giovanni quickly pulled him back down. A big man stepped around the corner of the tent and looked toward the wagon but did not see the boys. They were well hidden but might be caught if they did not keep quiet. Giovanni whispered.

“That’s Corriden, the strongman. He is mean and greedy. He has a big mouth and likes to be in charge.”

Even as Giovanni whispered, Corriden opened his big mouth while two more men came running up. “Porto, check the midway again. Damien, check around the animal pens. I’ll try the circus tent.” The men split up and went off in different directions and Otto spoke again, completely changing the subject.

“We came here to see my father. He died in Italy. We went to the grave, to churches, said prayers and went to masses, and talked to all kinds of important grownups.”

“Sorry about your dad.”

Otto shrugged. “I was three. I hardly remember him.” The boys looked at each other and Giovanni decided Otto needed cheering up.

“My mom died when I was about three,” Giovanni said. “It was hard for a while.”

“Sorry about your mom.”

“You know, everyone in the circus has faced some terrible tragedy or other. Some people run away to the circus to grieve, or to hide from people who want to harm them, or something. What people share at the circus stays at the circus. But in your case, I believe you qualify to learn the secret circus handshake.” They shook hands. They cupped their fingers and shook. Giovanni fist bumped the top of Otto’s fist and had to wait a second for Otto to fist bump the top of his fist. They slapped hands and pointed at each other, and Giovanni wiggled his fingers.

Otto smiled and went through the motions again on his own. Giovanni heard a voice. His father called.

“Vincenzo.”

He did not sound mad, just perturbed.

A woman said, “What is that? In the sky.”

Otto and Giovanni both looked, and Giovanni stood and yelled. “No. Elgar already did that,” he complained. “Every time I think it is over between you two, you come back. Just stop it!” He picked up a pebble and threw it at the Flesh Eater ship that hovered over Rome before it shot off to the north. Of course, the ship was twenty-thousand feet up, way beyond where his pitiful little pebbles could reach.

“What was that?” Otto asked as he stood.

“Flesh Eaters,” Giovanni spit. “They are people who are exactly like they are called. They eat people.”

“How do they fly like that? What kind of a ship was that? Is that part of the circus?”

“No. Not part of the circus. It’s complicated. Maybe if we had an hour, I could explain the basic ideas.”

“Otto. Come here.” The old woman with the cane spoke sharply. Giovanni’s dad stood beside her with a mix between a frown and a smile on his face and his fists on his hips.

“Vincenzo,” he called and then turned to the old woman. “If Otto was with my son he was in the safest place in the world he could be, though my son does tend to misbehave.” He turned to Giovanni. “Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning out the horse stalls?”

Giovanni found his tongue automatically slip back into his native Venetian. “I was just taking a break. My friend Otto and I needed a rest from all the grownups.” He looked. The old woman evidently spoke the language and understood. He turned to Otto and spoke German again. “Your mother?” He asked because mother did not sound right.

“Grandmother,” Otto said. “Adelaide of Italy.”

“Otto,” the woman spoke and leaned heavily on her cane. “Your mother is very worried. You should not run off like that. Come. The circus is about to start.” She slipped her arm around the boy as if to say he was not going to escape again. He looked sad at being caught, but he perked up when Giovanni spoke.

“You are going to really love the show.” He noticed the soldiers standing in the background, watching the woman and the boy, and Giovanni’s father. “The Greatest Show on Earth!” He spouted, and with a look at his father he softened his voice. “Going,” he said, but he could not resist one shout back as he ran off. “Catch you later.”

Otto looked in Giovanni’s direction and waved. “Later.”

Medieval 6: K and Y 5 Divorce, part 2 of 2

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Inga let Yrsa go home while she came up with Kirstie’s four-year-old son, Soren. Kirstie grabbed Soren and rocked him gently with her tears, and Inga stayed right beside her.

“Mama?” Soren cried a little, too, but he was not sure what he was crying about.

“Every time he was home, I tried to make it work. I tried for four years, nearly five.” Kirstie told Inga. “How stupid was that?”

“Not stupid.” Inga said. “You want a husband and a home, and you did everything you could to make it work. There is nothing stupid in that.”

Kirstie cried a little more. “He is so mean. He’s meaner than Severas, greedier than Corriden, far uglier than Sabellius, and stupider than Otto, Louis and Charles, the Three Stooges put together.”

“Who are they?” Inga asked softly.

Kirstie shook her head wistfully. “People who will live a hundred years from now, right before Y1K. It doesn’t matter.” She paused, then shouted as if the little speck of a ship in the distance could hear her. “I wish you lived a hundred years from now. Then I would not have to suffer with your mean, greedy, stupid, ugly self!”

“Mama?” Soren watched her closely.

“It will be all right, dearest. You will see. Some day you will be a good man, a good captain, with your own ship.”

“Like Papa?” he asked.

“No.” Kirstie said flatly. “Not like your father. I said you will be a good man and have a good wife and many happy children.”

“Kirstie.” Inga touched her arm. “You have been a good wife. Even if it is over, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Wilam?” she whispered.

“You deserve him.” Inga said to Kirstie’s surprise. “A good wife needs a good man and a happy child.” She included Soren.

“Soren,” Kirstie said, holding him back a little to look at him. “Are you happy?”

Soren looked at his mother, turned to Inga, and then looked back at his mother. “I guess,” he shrugged.

“Well.” Kirstie said, feeling a little better after her cry. “Let us do something to make you happy.” She stood and took him by the hand. Inga took his other hand and they all decided to get out the little skiff to picnic on the other side of the bay, and maybe catch a few fish.

“Inga.” Kirstie said later in the day. “What am I going to do?” It was a problem for women in her world. The Viking lifestyle produced too many widows, lonely women who became a burden to their children and the community. Many of those women suffered from hunger and hopelessness for years. It was why men got away with so much, and why so many women stayed home despite their better sense. At least her village had a tradition of bringing such women together for mutual help and support. The Witcher Women worked in linen and wool and worked as tailors and seamstresses, so they contributed to the community and were not just burdens.

Kirstie was rich compared to most women. She was rich like the nobility. She had properties and tenants. She had thralls to work her land. She was looking at another piece of property on the other side of her house. She was thinking about getting some horses to ride like Yasmina. She would need more thralls or hired men. Maybe a family of farmers, like serfs. Still, it would not help her in her loneliness. What if Wilam changed his mind over the last year? Surely Kare will move to Nidaros full time. Let him go, but that would leave her alone.

Kirstie repeated the question. “What am I going to do?”

“Do not doubt Wilam,” Inga said, and indicated she had been thinking about it.

“I don’t,” she said without much conviction. “But he is an outsider. He might never fit in here. I don’t know.”

“Well,” Inga drew out the word. “You could always sell your properties and with all that money you and Wilam could buy a fine home in Northumbria. I am sure King Eadwulf would make room for the savior of Lindisfarne.”

Kirstie paused before she shook her head. “My place is here. I need access to longships and their ability to travel long distances. I have a feeling this struggle with Abraxas is not over, banished from the earth though he is for all time. I don’t know what Wilam will say. There is so much about me that he does not know. He may yet change his mind.”

“Well, you could come back to the Witcher Women. Mother Vrya would not mind if you did,” she said.

“I don’t know if I could.” Kirstie sounded pensive. “It is honestly not my place.”

“Faugh.” Inga said with a smile and a touch on her arm. “You have been blessed by the gods. The water and the fire, Njord and Fryer themselves have gifted you beyond any ordinary women. You have more real magic in your little finger than all the Witcher Women who ever lived. Things changed mightily the day Elgar the Saxon killed the Hag that drove the Vanlil to make war on the fjord.” Kirstie nodded. She understood.

“Then again, you changed everything for all women on the day you picked up a sword. Why, you went to sea with the men, not once, but three times in your youth. You know how to navigate. You know about sails and sailing. You have even slain a man, a rite of passage that only boys hope to attain.”

“All that is true.” Kirstie said. “But it means nothing. For four years now I have been a wife and mother, just like any other in the village and whether I picked him or not, Kare has been my husband and father to my son. Now that we are divorced, where will I go? What will I do?” Kirstie sounded more distressed than she actually felt.

“I would say you can do anything you want.” Inga said. “You proved that much on more than one occasion.”

“Perhaps Soren and I should run away and join the circus.” Kirstie said out of frustration.

“What’s a circus?” Inga asked. She always asked, though Kirstie rarely answered.

“Mama!” They heard Soren’s cry from a distance. “Mama!” It was his cry of distress and Kirstie got to her feet and ran as fast as she could.

************************

MONDAY

Yasmina does not want to be left out of this divorce business but unexpectedly faces the servants of the Masters and Kirstie is called on to fight in Sickness and the Cure. Until then, Happy Reading

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Avalon 8.8 The Bad Penny, part 4 of 6

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Sir Bertulf and the night watch arrived at the same time as Decker, Elder Stow, Sukki and Boston.  The travelers did not appear to be fully awake, but Sir Bertulf and the men on the watch all gagged on seeing the shredded gate guards.  Giovanni arrived moments later with one of the old men that went with him to check out the farm.  The old man spoke first to Sir Bertulf.

“This is what we saw on the farm, though the family looked partly eaten.  We ran as fast as the horses could run when a dozen of these Wolv came out of the woods.”

“I count two Wolv,” Giovanni said, and he leaned back and shouted up to the top of the wall.  “Alexis.  How many did you get up there?”

Lockhart’s voice answered.  The man could not be well seen on the night shrouded walkway.  “Lincoln shot one.”

“That is three,” Giovanni said, seemingly satisfied.  He understood three-man—three-Wolv—three-person fighter/bomber craft became standard among space-faring people since the days of the Balok, some five thousand years earlier.  That three-man or three-Wolv thinking translated into all sort of other circumstances.  A three Wolv scout troop was what he expected.

“We saw at least a dozen at the farm,” the old man said, and added softly, “I didn’t stop to count them.”

Sir Bertulf stared at the Wolv by his feet when Giovanni said, “These were probably advanced scouts sent to check out the lay of the land.”

“There are more out there,” the old man said.

“You talk as if these Wolv think like an army.”  Sir Bertulf tore his eyes away from staring at the beast.

“They have first rate military minds,” Giovanni answered.  “Despite the fact that they look something like ordinary wolves, these Wolv are not dumb beasts.  They talk, are organized, and make excellent soldiers, which is why one group of people used them as front-line troops in their days of conquest.”

“How many do you figure?” Decker asked.

“At least a company of forty.  Maybe a whole brigade.  That would be six hundred.  Let us hope there are not more.  Oberon!” Giovanni called.

“Right here, Lord,” the dwarf answered.  He came out of the dark street followed by the half-ogre Sibelius and a very grumpy old woman named Madam Figiori.  Madam Figiori was a very old, full blood elf whose magic allowed her glimpses of hidden things, including rare glimpses of the future.  She ran the fortune teller’s booth, but at the moment, being a light elf, she wanted to be sleeping in the dark time.

Sibelius carried the stretcher Giovanni made with the hope they would never have to use it.  Sadly, circus people sometimes had accidents and needed to be carried to a place where they could rest and recover from their injuries.  In this case, Sibelius held up the stretcher with a question in his eyes.  Immediately, Alexis shouted down from overhead.

“Benjamin got clawed.  We need a way to get him back to the inn.”

“Come on, strongman,” Decker said and headed toward the stairs.

“I wondered why Madam Figiori said to bring this.”  Sibelius smiled as he held up the stretcher and followed.

Katie came down first and saw that there was nothing Alexis could do for the gate guards.  Sir Bertulf jumped when he saw Katie examining the men.  He began giving orders to the watch.  “Raise the city guard.  I want torches on the wall in the night so we can see them coming.  We have to man the whole wall.  They could come over at any point, and I’ll flog any man who falls asleep on the watch.”  He turned to Giovanni.  “Are they afraid of fire?”

“Not in the least,” Giovanni answered.  “You can’t think of them as dumb animals.  If we make the wall too costly for them, they may try to set the wall on fire, or burrow under, or build siege engines like an army of men.  They are ferocious, like berserkers, stronger and faster than ordinary men, but most of all they think.  They are not dumb beasts.”  Sir Bertulf nodded, even if the reality of that would take time to sink in.  Giovanni added another note.  “You need to consider manning the wall in shifts.  They may be here before morning, or it could be days or even weeks before they turn in our direction.”  A final nod from Sir Bertulf and he ran off followed by two watchmen.

Other watchmen started up the stairs as Decker and Sibelius brought Lincoln down as carefully as they could, with Alexis yelling at them to be careful.  Lockhart followed, coming down the stair where he and Katie joined Elder Stow, Sukki, and Boston who had gathered around Giovanni.  Giovanni was speaking to the dwarf.

“No, Lord,” Oberon said.  “It looks like the six hundred you guessed.  There are some good dwarfs, some string beans, flutter-byes, and dark ones all volunteering to help defend the town, but not many of each.  Those Wolv are scarry just to look at.”

“Every bit helps, and I am sure your volunteers will do more than they should.  Thank them for me.” Giovanni turned to the travelers, but Madam Figiori interrupted his thoughts.

“No telling if I can see rightly in the dark.  It is unnatural to be awake and about at this time of the night.  But it looks like you have an elect, a member of the elder race, a girl who is simply cracking with powers—the gods must have been generous to you, girl—and the red head is a full blood elf, a princess I would guess from the look of her.”

“Boston,” Giovanni smiled.  “You need to visit with Madam Figiori while you are here.”  he turned to the old elf.  “Consider Boston like the daughter you never had.”

Madam Figiori harumphed and walked once around Boston like she needed to see the girl from all the angles.  Then she spoke.  “She is a fiery wild child.  Brilliant, but a disobedient, stubborn girl who can drive everyone crazy around her.”  Boston did not object, but she looked sad to think this elder elf did not like her.  Madam Figiori surprised her when she let out a little smile.  “She is exactly the kind of daughter I would have had if I had one.”  She turned again to Giovanni.  “Nothing I can see right now.  These Wolv are just exploring for the present and their minds are too wild to make sense.”  She shrugged.  “I will sleep on it.  Come, girl,” she said and walked off with Boston following.  “What kind of a name is Boston?  Well, you used to be human.”

“Ugh,” Boston protested.  “How did you know that?”

“I know too much.  Elves frown on soothsaying and fortune telling.  It got me kicked out of my woodland home, but that happened a long, long time ago…”

That was all the travelers heard before Lockhart turned to Giovanni and asked, “Where do you want us?”

“Available,” Giovanni said.  “I would prefer you on the road to the next time gate, but that would not be safe right now.  I guess for now you can stay around the main gate on the main road.  The south road gate is next to the Baron’s residence.  Hopefully the man is not a complete fool, or Sir Bertulf may double the guard there.  Later, maybe when everyone is up in the daytime, you might hang around with me by the town hall.  That is the center of town.  We can run from there to the wall, wherever we may be needed.  Elder Stow?”

Elder Stow took one more look at his scanner.  “I have expanded the alarm to a half-mile all around.  That takes in the town and should give us more advanced warning if there are Wolv in the area.”  He handed Giovanni a disc.  “Here.  It is tuned to the scanner and will relay the alarm, should it go off.”  Giovanni thanked him and put the disc in his pocket.

Giovanni said, “I suppose it won’t do any good to ask Decker to take his eagle totem in a fly around in the morning.  As I recall, he can’t see much under the trees.  Still, he might luck out and catch a glimpse of whatever ship brought the Wolv here.”

“Agreed,” Elder Stow said.  “But for now, we need to rest while we can.  It also won’t do any good being exhausted when the Wolv come in force.”

Everyone agreed with that and went their separate ways.  Lockhart and Kate climbed to the walkway up on the wall where they had a turn watching for the Wolv, while men came to man the gate and clean up the mess of bodies below.

###

Giovanni had a fine breakfast prepared in the town hall.  The travelers had already eaten at the inn, but they did not mind nibbling on the food.  Decker meditated and sent up his eagle totem.  He saw nothing to speak of under the forest canopy and could not confirm the glistening something he saw in the distance, well beyond his range.

“It might be a ship, a big ship, or two ships,” he said.  “It might be a refection off the next big town over.”

“Stuttgart,” Lincoln named it. “On the Necker River.”

Decker said, “It might be the river.”

Elder Stow added a note.  “I am seeing movement in the woods, but it could be a herd of deer or something.”  His uncertainty did not reassure anyone.  He picked up on that and defended himself.  “This is just a toy.  It is not a real scanner. I am doing my best.”

“I am sure you are,” Katie said and smiled for him.

“I can’t eat anything,” Sukki said.  “All I can picture is the Wolv eating the whole town.”

Nanette nudged her.  “Good thing you had a big breakfast before coming here.”

Sukki nodded.  “I wasn’t thinking about the Wolv then.”

Sir Bertulf and some of his men were there along with the two old men from the farm.  One of the other knights, Sir Radbod was also present.  He came around after he saw the bodies of the shredded gate guards.  No telling where Sir Aldabert and the Baron Fredrick stood at that point, but at least now Sir Bertulf did not need to watch both ends of the town at the same time.

Any number of circus people were present as well, including Oberon the dwarf, Sibelius the strongman, Titania, the bearded fat lady, and Leonora decked out in her harlequin costume, who complained that they had an adventure in the night without her.

“That is what Boston usually says,” Sukki told her when Boston and Madam Figiori came in laughing about something.  Boston took the madam to introduce her adopted sisters Sukki and Nanette.  Madam Figiori was just revealing the impression she got of both of them, impressions that were uncanny in their accuracy, when Elder Stow’s alarm went off.

“I guess that is not a herd of deer,” he said.

Oberon nodded.  “It looks like the full six hundred, and they are straight out in the woods from this point, about half-way between the north and south gates.

“God help us,” Sukki said, and even the disguised little ones present did not object to that idea.

Avalon 8.8 The Bad Penny, part 2 of 6

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“I thought they all died,” Sukki said as she got down from her horse.  “There should not be any more Wolv.”

“Not a chance,” Boston said, as Nanette and Titania came up to join them.  “They just got stranded on whatever planet they were on when their Humanoid ships busted beyond what they could fix.”

Elder Stow came up staring at his scanner.  He ostensibly came to help the women move their horses off the road.  The circus people were still bringing in the wagon loads from where they parked in a field outside the town palisade.  The others all went to help.

“Actually,” Elder Stow spoke to the women.  “Even in my day, a thousand years in the future, there are a half-dozen or so worlds where packs of Wolv still roam around.  You see, on some worlds the people were made extinct before the Wolv returned to space.  Some fought off the invasion as Earth did a thousand years ago in the days of Ali Baba.  But eventually the Humanoid technology broke as Boston said, and the Wolv became trapped on that world.  Again, some local people defeated the Wolv, and if they were advanced enough to do it, they also got an introduction to Humanoid technology and space travel.  I suspect the Flesh Eaters, and maybe the Apes fall into that category.  But on some worlds, the Wolv won and now own at least a half-dozen worlds in my day.”

‘You mean, they might learn how to fix things and come back here at any time?”  Sukki worried.

“No, daughter.”  Elder Stow gave her a reassuring smile.  “The Wolv everywhere have reverted to their natural pack and tribal state; what modern people would call a Neolithic existence.  They can learn.  They can be taught, as the Humanoids taught them how to use their equipment, but it will be thousands of years before they learn enough to build their own spaceships, and it is possible that will never happen.”

“But they are here,” Nanette said, sounding nearly as nervous as Sukki.  “How did they get here?”

“Over here,” Alexis shouted.  She and Tony had the wagon in a side street, and Alexis had hers and Lincoln’s horses.  The others each grabbed the reigns of two horses that were otherwise just standing around, and they followed the wagon, while Elder Stow said one more thing.

“That is the question.  They had to be brought here.  Who brought them?”

Decker and Lincoln went to help pack and bring in the last of the circus wagons.  The town watch and soldiers were anxious to get the gate closed, though they had not yet seen a Wolv.  If they had, they might have slammed the gate already and let those outside the palisade fend for themselves.  Decker did not have the heart to tell the locals a wooden palisade wall would hardly be sufficient against the Wolv.  It would not keep out an army, but the town could surrender to an army.  If they surrendered to the Wolv, the Wolv would just eat them or tear them to shreds just for fun.  The palisade might keep out a company of men attached to a distant army.  It would at least make the company think twice before attacking, so Decker supposed it was not a totally useless wall.

Meanwhile, Lockhart and Katie met with Don Giovanni and Leonora, and two older men who went out to one of the outlying farms to see what the madman kept screaming about.  They tried to explain things to the local Baron, his three knights, and the four town elders.  At least one of the knights, Sir Bertulf seemed to understand what they were talking about, or maybe he believed them.  The others all wanted to deny reality or interpret it in a way that did not appear so threatening.

“So, a pack of wolves attacked the man’s farm,” the Baron said with a haughty laugh.  “Nothing a couple of good hunters can’t take care of.  It happens all the time.”  He walked off and two of his knights went with him, laughing about the panic.

“No.  You don’t understand,” Otto, one of the old men started to speak but paused when Giovanni put his hand out.

“He will believe it when he sees it,” Giovanni said.  “Let us hope it is not the last thing he sees.”

“How can we help?” Lockhart asked.

“Actually, for once you can stick around and get your rifles ready,” Giovanni answered as he turned to the town elders.    “Besides, it isn’t safe out there to be traveling right now.”  He spoke to the elders.  “Do you understand what is going on here?”

The head of the little group looked at his fellows before he answered.  “I am with the Baron.  A pack of wild wolves I understand.  I don’t know these Wolvs you speak of.”

“Just as long as you open the gates for the people to come behind the shelter of the wall.”

“We will not keep anyone out,” he responded, and they left.

“Sir Bertulf?” one of the older men asked, wondering what the last knight present thought.

Sir Bertulf pulled a little on his beard.  “You say and all agree these are not natural or normal wolves.  They think, are clever and cunning, and have a language all their own with which they communicate with each other even as we talk with one another.  Are they demons, then, who have taken the form of wolves?  I know their master goes about like a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour.  I do not doubt that his servants may take the form of wolves and be equally hungry.”

The old men looked at Don Giovanni as Lockhart began to speak.  “That is not exactly right.”

“But close enough,” Giovanni said.  “And if that line of thinking helps the people mount a reasonable defense, then let’s go with it.”

“We will spread the word among the people,” one of the old men said.

“And I will see to the soldiers and the night watch on the wall.” Sir Bertulf agreed.

As they left, Leonora grabbed Giovanni.  “Tell me about these friends of yours.  You never mentioned them.”

“I never think of them until they arrive, or mostly,” he said.

“They have an elf with them.”  Leonora smiled.

“And a member of the elder race, two witches, and Katie here is an elect.  We will meet them all later, but that is not important now.”  Giovanni turned at the door and looked to see the gate closing.  His circus wagons stretched the whole length of the street from the gate almost to the Baron’s residence at the far end.  The Baron lived in a mansion and had a strong stone tower as a fallback position.  He also had his own wall around his very big piece of property.  It was an improvement over the town wall because the bottom four feet or so was stone.

“I hope we don’t end up stuffing as many people as possible into the baron’s tower as a last resort.  That would not be good.”

Leonora tugged on Giovanni’s sleeve.  “So, where do these Wolvs come from?” she asked.

“Wolv,” he corrected her.  “It is like sheep.  Wolv covers the singular and the plural.”  The couple looked eye to eye in silence for a moment, and Katie smiled and nudged Lockhart who imagined he knew what she was nudging about.

“But where…”

Giovanni put an arm around Leonora’s shoulder.  She quieted and let out her smile.  He pointed to the sky and said, “You know in the night when all the stars come out?  Generally, in that direction.  You know, they are all suns very, very far away.  There is a world, like the earth, that goes around one of those suns.  They come from there, and how they got here is a question.”

Leonora sighed and laid her head against Giovanni’s shoulder.  Katie had to say something.

“Surely, the Humanoid ships are not still functioning.”

“No,” Giovanni said.  “And don’t call me Shirley.”  He smiled.  “But seriously, they had to have been brought here.  The question is by who and for what purpose.”

Lincoln called as he walked up to the town hall.  “Lockhart.  Katie.  We found an inn and got five rooms before they filled up with circus people.  The horses and wagon are in the barn.”  He stepped up and smiled for what he took to be two couples.  Giovanni quickly let go of Leonora and asked her a question.

“Would you mind going with the travelers to help them get settled in?  I need to settle the train and get the tents up in the street, I guess.  Tell Boston I haven’t forgotten.  I’ll be along later to get her hug.”  Leonora backed up and looked at him.  He explained.  “It is just tradition.  She is the elf.”

“Oh,” Leonora said and seemed to understand something. “Come on,” she waved to Katie and Lockhart as she and Lincoln led the way down the side street.  “The Frauenhaus,” she named the inn.  “Not the best in town, but acceptable.”