Medieval 6: Giovanni 8 Women and Answers, part 1 of 2

January 20, 2025December 15, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

After the loss of Umberto, and Giovanni counted it as a sad loss, the circus suffered only the regular trials and troubles of life on the road. A wagon broke a wheel. Another broke and axel. An ox broke a leg in a hole in the road that no one saw. They suffered the usual tears and worn-out spots in the tents and costumes. Needles, with plenty of wives and Constantine to help stayed very busy patching things. The roustabouts under Borges, one of whom was a reasonably good carpenter, and one of whom, with Oberon the dwarf’s help, could light up something like a forge to do some blacksmithing also made their repairs along the way.

Oberon kept one eye on the books, but he mostly turned the books over to his cousin, a goblin named Mankin. They were in Bologna while Giovanni, Leonora, and Oberon sat in Giovanni’s tent discussing how the show went and where they might improve the transition time between the acts, when Mankin rose up right through the floorboards. It took him a moment to recognize Oberon because Leonora distracted him so badly with her scream.

Giovanni hushed Leonora who got behind him and peeked over his shoulder. “Very frightening,” Giovanni said of the goblin. “Can you put on a glamour to appear human?”

Mankin ignored Giovanni and turned to Oberon. “I am here. What do you want me for?”

“Your cousin?” Giovanni asked Oberon.

“His grandmother was a dwarf, sister of my great-grandfather,” Oberon said. “He can go about in the daytime, unlike some goblins.”

“It is to my shame to carry dwarf blood,” Mankin admitted.

“No, no,” Giovanni said. “I think you are very frightening to look at. What do you think Harley?” He threw that last over his shoulder where Leonora’s face peeked over from behind. Giovanni really could not look at her, but he imagined she had yet to blink.

“Very frightening,” she said.

“But come. You need to at least look human,” Giovanni insisted.

Mankin looked at Oberon who said, “You better do what the Kairos wants while he is in a good mood.”

Mankin nodded, like Oberon confirmed what he thought. He raised his hand and things like his horns, forked tongue, fangs and claws went away to reveal a man with dark, slicked back hair that he kept beneath an alpine hat, and a black goatee and beady eyes which made him frightening enough in human form.

“Is that better?” Giovanni asked.

“Not much,” Leonora said, and Mankin almost smiled.

Oberon spoke for his cousin. “He is a whiz with the numbers and can keep the books and pay the people perfectly and keep straight exactly how much pay is due the various people based on receipts.”

“Gringotts,” Giovanni said without explanation.

“Don’t worry, Lord,” Oberon said. “I’ll show him and he will keep the books straight and the money counted perfectly. You also won’t have to worry about Corriden or anyone else stealing the receipts, either.”

“Now,” Giovanni said. “It has not been proved that Corriden had anything to do with the theft, or for my father being killed…”

“With respect, where did Corriden get the money to get the Corriden Circus off the ground?”

Giovanni waved off those thoughts and changed the subject. “Maybe he could practice in front of the tents collecting the pennies of the people.”

“Don’t want to scare the people off,” Oberon said, and Giovanni felt Leonora nod.

“With Piccolo and Rugello.” Giovanni mentioned the two presently tasked with that job.

“Maybe…” Oberon said and Mankin interrupted.

“Hurry. Hurry. Hurry. Step right up. Come and see the greatest show on earth. Seating is limited and you don’t want to miss out. Hurry, hurry. The show will begin in the next five minutes. I got here yesterday.” Mankin said and smiled. Leonora turned her head away. Oberon commented.

“Maybe with Piccolo and Rugello.”

Giovanni nodded and said. “I leave you to it. Come on,” he grabbed Leonora’s hand to take her from the wagon. She looked down at his hand in hers and smiled as hard as she could. Sadly, that smile got tempered as they traveled down the coast.

In Bologna, three young women came looking for Don Giovanni III. He said no and turned them all away, but Leonora was not happy about it. In Ravenna there were two more women, and then one in just about every stop down the coast. Giovanni turned them all down, but Leonora got upset and found some tears. Tears did not help her performance one bit. Harlequin was supposed to be happy-go-lucky, not moping and melancholy. It helped a bit when the old timers sat down and explained things to her.

“In the old days, young Giovanni was wild and carefree, if you know what I mean,” Madigan the musician said.

“I told him he should not do that,” Titania said. “You know, I tried to watch out for him after his mother died.”

Baklovani added his thoughts. “I’m surprised he doesn’t have a pocket full of children all over Italy.”

“Maybe he does,” Constantine said.

“Anyway.” Madigan tried to get back to the subject. “Since his father died and he had to take over running the circus…”

“And especially after you came,” Constantine said.

“…He appears to have given up all the women he used to spend his time with.”

“Stopped cold,” Titania said with a shake of her head.

“Maybe he will explode,” Baklovani suggested.

“Maybe he will become a monk,” Constantine offered another suggestion before Madigan began again.

“Mostly we think it is running the circus and all that is involved in that that has kept him so busy. I imagine he does not have time for anything on the side. Still, I would not have expected him to stop cold like that. I imagine that would be very hard.”

“I’ll tell you what I think,” Constantine began before he got quiet, like he did not want to tell what he thought. Everyone stared at him while he looked down, but soon enough he looked up at Leonora and just let it out. “I think he fell in love and has no interest in any other women but the one he loves.”

Leonora stared at Constantine. She slowly turned her head to look at the others, but they turned their heads away and down when she looked at them. The smile slowly came back to Leonora’s face and she said, softly, “Oh, I hope so.”

The others all chuckled a bit.

Medieval 6: Giovanni 7 Sabotage, part 3 of 3

January 15, 2025December 15, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

In Bologna, one whole side of the big tent collapsed. The mast-like pole on that side remained sound and they had rope to replace the main rope that broke. They picked up plenty of new rope in Ferrara after the tightrope incident, but they had to cancel the performance that evening.

“Another cut rope,” Oberon confirmed.

“Anyone seen walking around with a knife in their hand?” Giovanni asked.

“Vader,” Sibelius suggested.

“He’s the knife thrower,” Leonora said with a roll of her eyes. “He always has knives on him.”

“I got my sheers for cutting the cloth,” Needles admitted.

“Gabriella uses plenty of knives around the cooking fires,” Baklovani said.

Giovanni held up his hands until they quieted. “And Rugello carries the sword that he swallows. All that is understood. What I mean is, has anyone been seen carrying knives or sharp instruments that doesn’t normally use them?”

Everyone quieted. They had to think. After a moment, several heads began to shake before Baklovani had a thought. “Well…” Baklovani hesitated and looked at Constantine.

Constantine nodded before he talked. “Baklovani and I were talking with Rostanzio the magician about the need to help out when we put up and take down the tents.”

“You know, he always says he has to protect his digits,” Baklovani interrupted.

Constantine nodded. “He says if he hurts his fingers he won’t be able to properly do his sleight of hand tricks.”

“Not that his tricks are that good or all that hard to figure out.” Baklovani chuckled.

“Get on with it,” Leonora and Giovanni said more or less at the same time.

“Well…” Baklovani hedged again, but Constantine got the message.

“We were out behind the tent of wonders and we saw Umberto walking with Rugello’s sword.”

“You know, the one he won’t let anyone touch,” Baklovani had to add his interruption.

“Rostanzio said as much. We all teased Umberto that he was going to be in big trouble but he said Rugello asked him to fetch it and stomped off. That dd not sound right then. It sounds less right now that I have said it out loud.”

“Come on,” Giovanni said, and the whole group went to find Rostanzio before it got dark. He confirmed the story and followed them to find Rugello. “So, you asked Umberto to fetch your sword?” he asked Rugello but interrupted himself. “When was that?” He asked Constantine.

“About two-thirty. We just finished the show of wonders.”

“And the tent collapsed around three just as the show in the circus tent began,” Leonora said.

“What is this all about?” Rugello asked.

“Never mind. Did you ask Umberto to fetch your sword around two thirty?”

“No,” Rugello answered honestly. “No one should be touching my sword.” He huffed so everyone understood, not to say they did not already understand. He huffed again to underline his sentiment, then he joined the crowd, and Piccolo who was there came too. He asked Constantine what was going on and Constantine carefully explained what he understood as they fetched Madam Figiori from her tent on the midway.

Madam Figiori said, “Umberto is by the food at a table waiting for supper to be called.” She said that before anyone asked her anything. The whole group trooped down to the food area and cornered Umberto. Umberto took one look at the crowd and began to cry.

“It was Corriden,” he said. “After the poison of Berlio failed, he offered me so much money to disrupt the circus. He never expected you to continue and be successful. He wants you to fail and plans to add some of the acts to his own circus lineup. he promised me a good place and more money.” He paused to wipe his tears and his runny nose. “I don’t know what I was thinking. When I almost killed my friend Constantine, I sent word to Corriden that I was not going to help him anymore. But he sent Damien all the way to Bologna to threaten me. He said he would expose me and I would no longer have a place in any circus. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Is Damien still around here?” Baklovani asked. He worried, thinking since Umberto got exposed, Damien himself might sneak onto the circus grounds and sabotage something, but Umberto shook his head.

“I am sure he is not. He came up with the idea to collapse the big tent but I am sure he meant during a performance and I am sure he hoped the mast would break. I cut the line that would bring down part of the tent without putting a strain on the mast. I am sorry. I am so sorry.”

“Me too,” Giovanni said. “Get your things and leave. I hope Corriden has a place for you in his circus because you are no longer welcome here.” Giovanni asked Piccolo and Rugello to follow Umberto. “And make sure he does not hurt anyone else of break anything on his way out of town.”

Leonora looked at Giovanni and actually complained. “That was too easy. We did not have to threaten him or anything.”

“I know,” Giovanni agreed, and he smiled at Leonora’s use of the word “We”. “I expected a good mystery, a slate of suspects and following the clues.” Leonora nodded.

“And denial,” Oberon said. “And catching the saboteur with the knife in his hand. And a struggle for possession of the knife. And coming in at the last minute to save the day.”

“But that is not the way things usually go,” Rostanzio said, honestly enough.

“No, but neither is a confession without first going through some period of denial,” Giovanni said. “All it takes, though, is a witness of either the act or something out of place and that points the finger.”

“Yes, and…” Oberon started again but paused when Madam Figiori stood and headed toward the cooking fire. “Where are you going in the middle of my pontificating?”

“Supper is ready,” she answered. “I am hungry and tired in that order.”

Portence came out from behind the table where they sold honey buns and cakes to the visitors, and she rang the big bell for supper. Nicholi, Gregori, and Rosa came running, though Madam Figiori got first in line.

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

MONDAY

The Don Giovanni Circus finds some success, but life becomes difficult between Giovanni and Leonora. Until Monday, Happy Reading

Medieval 6: Giovanni 7 Sabotage, part 2 of 3

January 14, 2025December 15, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

After the week of dry runs, they added an audience. Outside of Umberto the panic stricken and Constantine, who was afraid of everything, apparently, except heights, Leonora had the worst stage fright, never having performed before an audience before. Most of the others had been performing their act on the road for a while. Leonora’s fright lasted until she told a joke and people laughed. After that, Giovanni had to keep her from getting carried away. As he suspected, she learned to love having an audience.

The first evening, they invited the people from the villages around the swamp. The second evening, they invited the people from the town where the ships came in from Venice and where Madam Delfin lived. On the third night, they packed up the tents and moved to the first main town away from the farmland where the Corriden Circus made their own preparations. They set up in the morning and performed in all three tents that day at two and four in the tent of wonders and three in the circus tent. The town was honestly not of a size to warrant setting up the big tent, but they needed the practice. In the morning, they packed up and began their journey on Tuesday April fifth on the Julian calendar. It was not exactly April first, but they did get out ahead of Corriden.

“I imagine Corriden is whipping his people to get them moving,” Madigan said over lunch.

“I would not be surprised,” Baklovani agreed.

“I’m just glad to be finally moving away from Venice,” Leonora said.

Constantine laughed. “Wait until September when we have been on the road for six months. You will be glad enough to be headed back to Venice and some rest.” Constantine’s monkey, Miss Pinky also laughed so as not to be left out of the conversation.

~~~*~~~

Everyone saw one or more people from Corriden’s circus at the three performances with an audience that Giovanni called the dress rehearsals. Corriden likely expected Giovanni to return to the swamp after those performances for a week or two in order to work out the rough spots and add some polish to the acts. Giovanni’s father always returned to the swamp for at least a week after the practice runs. Corriden probably panicked when Don Giovanni III headed off down the road, but Giovanni knew with so many new people there was no way to polish the acts until they had some experience. He said, “Now or never,” and they headed toward Padua.

Corriden’s flunkies, Damien and Porto followed the circus until noon when they rode back to warn Corriden. Giovanni knew it was important to get out in front of the others, but he had no doubt Corriden had no idea what he had in mind.

The normal route was to travel down the north side of the Po River to Manlova and then cross the river to the south side of the Po and come through Modena, to Bologna. From Bologna, the route went to Ravenna on the coast and down the coast to Ferma where it was not too difficult to travel inland to Spoleto, and from Spoleto there was a good road to Rome. Giovanni cut out all the travel up and down the Po River. He crossed over right away and stopped in Ferrara before Bologna. Ferrara had never had a visit from the circus before, but they heard about it and they were generous, so it was a good deal.

Giovanni figured Corriden was one to follow the schedule no matter what. He proved that the one time he served as ringmaster. By cutting off the travel up and down the Po River, he figured by the time Corriden got to Bologna and Ravenna, they would be three or four weeks behind. Whether or not the people all down the coast would come out for a second circus a month later remained to be seen, but it was the only way to go. Winding through the hills and mountains to all the towns and villages of central Italy would not work, not to say that even by then Corriden would consider altering the route.

Of course, the other reason Giovanni cut off the trip up and down the Po was the fact that he had a written invitation from the Holy Roman Emperor to be in Rome on June first. At best, including the trip up and down the Po would have put them in Rome at the end of June, and traveling with this madhouse, even on reasonably good roads, the best case could not be counted on. Cutting off the river portion was still no guarantee they would get to Rome on time. That was especially true when bad things started to happen.

It started in Padua, right at the beginning. Everyone got sick and a show had to be cancelled. Madam Figiori was not sure what substance got into the food but confirmed that they had all been poisoned with something. Titania was the only old timer who knew him on sight, but she swore she saw Berlio the magician and his wife Priscilla near the food wagon. Berlio tried it once before but got caught before he could poison anything. Apparently he came back and tried again. Giovanni believed Titania, but he thought it was odd. He heard Corriden was using Berlio and his naturally talkative nature as his ringmaster. Corriden himself must have filled in for a few days while Berlio ran his errand.

“Hopefully, when we get past Rovigo, get off the old route and head for Ferrara, they will not know where we are and we won’t have to worry about interference.”

Only Oberon said anything, and he only said “Hopefully” without much conviction.

Sure enough, in Ferrara, they almost had a disaster. Constantine got three steps out on the tightrope, and the rope snapped. He felt it and heard it rip, so he quickly reached down and grabbed his end of the rope. when it snapped. he swung to the pole and the ladder while Pinky the monkey shrieked and jumped up and down. The people that got to their feet applauded to see that he was alright. In fact, he never got so great an audience reaction before.

“But I hope they don’t think that was part of the act,” Constantine said. “I’m not doing that again if you don’t mind.”

Upon later examination, they decided that Constantine’s rope had been cut most of the way through. “Who would do such a thing?” Leonora asked.

Giovanni confided quietly to her. “We appear to have a saboteur in our midst. We better keep our eyes open.”

Medieval 6: Giovanni 7 Sabotage, part 1 of 3

January 13, 2025November 24, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

The circus went through a whole week of dry runs and Giovanni concluded that he had a show. Not a great show. Certainly not the Greatest Show on Earth, but a show. At dawn, his three clowns plus the three men he hired to be the primary roustabouts and put under the direction of Borges, husband of Gabriella the cook, and father of Rosa of the Flying Flutinis, along with as many performers as they could get took down all the tents. After breakfast, they put them all up again. They would do that regularly over the next seven months, and speed was important, but care was more important. It would be a disaster if a tent fell down during a performance.

The circus tent went up with equal care. Presently, it anchored one end of the midway, but it got the most use. It was the size of the tent Giovanni’s grandfather used, the one he started with. Three sides could be rolled up to accommodate an overflowing crowd. The fourth side had a slit door in it. The acts got ready behind that fourth side. Most people had a short, amended version of their act that they could perform in the smaller space. The acts suggested what the audience might see in the big tent, though they were miniature acts themselves, like the acts the performers might have done back in the days of traveling alone on the road. As long as it was not raining, they could put on the small version of the circus in every village and small town where they stopped for the night. The big tent got saved for the big towns, and the cities enroute. It did not get put up in the smaller places.

They also had a small tent they set at the entrance to the midway across the way from the food wagon. It was the tent of wonders where they showed off the magnificent diversity of God’s creation, which was the only safe way to describe things in 1000 AD in Italy under the church. It was never called the freak show though that name was hard to resist. They also had seats, charged a penny, and the show only lasted around a half hour.

Piccolo the juggler had a glib tongue. He got the job of introducing the various wonders and such. It was safer to put him on the stage so he would not be tempted to play any practical jokes and thus mess up his own chance to shine. Piccolo showed off the carcass of the mermaid which was really a cat and a fish sewn together by a talented taxidermist. He showed the unicorn horn and the dragon tooth telling a little story with each. It was not really possible to bring in Leonardo’s magnificent white horses or Sir Brutus the bear, but Constantine the tightrope walker brought his pet monkey, Pinky, the one dressed like a pink clown, and the children loved that. Children under a certain height were free in every tent when accompanied by adults. They had a sign in front of every tent to show the height and were pretty lenient about it, so they always had some children at every performance in the small tent of wonders, the circus tent, and the big tent.

When Constantine walked the tightrope in the big tent, the rope that got stretched between the two massive poles, like ship’s masts in size, that held the tent up, he always got a Ta-Da when he safely reached the other side. After he bowed, he waved to his monkey and the monkey easily scampered across the rope and jumped into Constantine’s arms. Constantine held the monkey like a baby, and they both waved to another Ta-Da before they climbed down the ladder.

Madigan the musician and two men from his orchestra once made a week-long winter trip to Padua the roads were slushy in the middle of January from recent rains. Madigan heard about a fiddle player who was the best anyone ever heard. He came back with a young woman with surprisingly Asian features. Merci had been born and raised in Brittany so her music sounded decidedly Celtic. How her Asian family got to Brittany remained a mystery, but Giovanni quickly learned the girl could also play the mandolin, though one hardly better than a Ukulele, and she had a remarkably good singing voice. Giovanni quickly took advantage of that. He put her in charge of the incidental music in the tent of wonders, and with the help of the drummer, they developed theme music for the various show people.

Merci was credited as coming from the land of silk which most people thought of as India, but who was Giovanni to correct them. Constantine came from Constantinople, even if the man had never been there, and his monkey came from the mysterious land of Egypt, which most people heard of. Umberto the contortionist came from France, and at least he spoke passable French The dwarfs, Oberon and Needles lived under the Alps, deep underground, where their brothers and sisters dug for gold and fine jewels, and iron for their forges. Sabelius the strongman came from the far north, the land of snow and ice, where it got so cold, even the bears turned white and ordinary men have been known to freeze like statues until the spring thaw. Sabelius was the only one who came from the place he was credited with. Then there was Titania, the bearded fat lady.

When Titania, supposedly from Iberia, came out to face the gawking audience, she sat on a stool and invited all the children to come to the front and sit cross legged on the ground. She talked about the other side of the Alps as being filled with dark and deep forests in Swabia and Bavaria. Piccolo, supposedly from that area, though his German was rather poor, called them the haunted forests filled with wolves, witches, trolls, goblins, and monsters to terrible to name. The curtain got pulled back showing the iron bars of a cage, though it was only the one side. It just looked like a cage.

Baklovani, the wolfman came roaring up to the face of the cage and stuck his hands made up to look like claws through the bars. The children, and plenty of the adults dutifully screamed. When things settled down, Titania told a story from the haunted woods called Little Red Riding Hood. Rosa got to pantomime the part of Red carrying her basket of goodies to grandma’s house. She loved the hood Needles made and often wore it even when she was not performing. When Titania said the line, “The better to eat you with,” Baklovani reached through the bars again and roared as the curtain got slowly closed. Piccolo played the woodcutter and rescued Rosa, and they all lived happily ever after. The end.

Of course, once again Giovanni scolded himself for stealing from the future, but he figured the Brothers Grimm collected their stories from the oral tradition. Most of the stories, including Little Red Riding Hood took place in Bavaria and the Black Forest, but later research suggested that many were rooted in Italian stories, so Giovanni figured he was safe enough.

People took bows in the tent of wonders, and in the bigger towns and cities, the people got the pitch to see the big show at five o’clock in the center ring—though they only had one ring. The big show ran a little over an hour or about as long as people could sit still. It ran a good bit over an hour until they got the timing down.

In the smaller towns and villages, people were encouraged to see the performances in the circus tent at the end of the midway. The show in the circus tent lasted about forty-five minutes, and everyone performed there once or twice in the day, roughly at one and at three, if a second performance was likely to gather enough of a crowd. Piccolo’s show of wonders could be performed three times, at noon, two, and four before the big show in the cities which started at five in order to be done well before dark. The show of wonders at noon was usually a small audience, but then people talked and tended to bring their friends and neighbors.

Medieval 6: Giovanni 6 A Morning Visit, part 2 of 2

January 8, 2025November 24, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Two days later, the acrobats Nicholi, Gregori, their mother, Portence, and Rosa the scamp, as she came to be called, were putting Leonora through her morning paces. She was flexible enough, more flexible than the boys, though no one was as flexible as twelve-year-old Rosa. Back handsprings were not easy, especially if you wanted to do three in a row and end with a back flip, either curled or straight legged with a twist.

“Stick that landing,” Giovanni said a million times. “Take a bow. We will be having dress rehearsals in two weeks if we can get Madigan and his musicians working together and we are not nearly ready.”

Cartwheels and handstands were also not easy to do well. The handstand in particular was important if you wanted to do a slow roll backwards and end up on your feet. The boys tended to tuck and roll forward to their feet. Rosa could do a slow back walkover and come slowly to her feet. Leonora could not quite do that, but she was determined to do it and would not quit until she mastered it.

Giovanni had a seesaw built that the boys could use to get some height. Portence, their own mother came up with the idea of using the seesaw to land Gregori on Nicholi’s shoulders so they stood two people tall. Nicholi was the stronger of the two, being eighteen months older than his brother. Then Portence and Rosa came up with the idea that Rosa should be catapulted to the top, to stand three people tall. That was going to take real practice. Leonora thought she could sneak up and jump on the other end of the seesaw to send the little girl up to that height, but Leonora did not weigh enough alone. She got Oberon the dwarf when he dressed in his yellow clown outfit to jump with her. Again, they needed practice, but Giovanni thought if they could get good at it, that could be a boffo ending for their act. Maybe no one knew what a boffo was, but by then others were saying it.

Leonora spent at least two hours after lunch learning lines and jokes. Giovanni wiped the worry sweat from his forehead when he recognized that she had a good sense of comedic timing. When Giovanni realized that he took advantage of being the Kairos for the first time in his life. He had the Storyteller look up the Abbot and Costello routine of “Who’s on First.” They needed the megaphone and a strong voice in the big tent, but in the smaller circus tent it would be perfect. Leonora put a coat over her harlequin costume and pretended to be an outsider who wanted to join the circus. Giovanni talked about nicknames and brought out the clowns who carried a ball. The red clown was who. The white clown was what. The blue clown was I Don’t Know. He knew he should not tempt time in that way, but circus people were always practical, quick to use whatever came to mind or to hand. With some minor adjustments, the routine went well and he tried to ignore the scolding he gave himself.

Leonora also spent lunchtime getting to know the circus people. Much to Giovanni’s delight, though not unexpected, everyone liked her very much. She was easy to like, he decided.

On the third day, Oberon arrived with a jar of white makeup and a smaller jar of red. He had brushes for her eyelashes and a pencil for her brows. “Here,” he said. “She might as well start getting used to wearing the makeup, not that a high born woman needs much encouragement in the makeup department. Besides, I think you want her covered up for when the visitors arrive.” He walked off without further explanation. Leonora and Giovanni who sat at the table across from each other, turned their head like they were mirror images. They looked at the road. They turned back at the same time and looked at each other before they both dropped their eyes. Giovanni coughed to clear his throat.

He applied her whiteface. He made her lips red and did not let his fingers linger too long on her lips, though she said nothing about it. She just looked at him with big puppy dog eyes, so he went to work on the eyes. He made them appear extra big and darkened the lashes and eyebrows. He noticed the whiteface did not disguise her beauty. He would have to watch that, but meanwhile, she would not likely be recognized.

Moments later, some twenty men rode up on the road and six of the men came down on the wide and safe path to the barn, the stables, the workshop, and where all the tents and wagons rested. Most of the men were soldiers of some sort, but Giovanni knew or remembered four of them. Lord Stephano butted up front and his two henchmen, big and short, rode behind. The other one was Otto who gave a good look around before he got down.

Giovanni went straight to Otto while Leonora went to hide by the chuck wagon. She did a cartwheel and back handspring on her way. She thought it completed the disguise, but Otto noticed.

“Much nicer than the other one,” Otto said.

“The other one?” Giovanni asked as they greeted each other with the supposed secret circus handshake.

“We stopped at a farm down the road. We thought it was your circus farm. Some of the people looked familiar.”

“Not mine,” Giovanni said and Otto nodded.

“The Corriden Circus. I thought you were the only one.”

“He stole some of my people and started his own. You know, a good idea is bound to be copied.”

“I could get your people back,” Otto offered, but Giovanni quickly shook his head.

“They are free people and can go where they want. If they think they can do better with Corriden, that is their decision. I don’t own them. They may be surprised, though. I’ve got some new acts which are pretty good.”

“Your harlequin?” he paused for Giovanni to nod that he got the name right. Otto started again. “You harlequin is certainly pretty and I bet she is also good.”

“Harley is new and just learning with so much of this circus. Hard to believe we only have one more month to get ready before we have to start the season.”

“Get to the point,” Lord Stephano shouted down from where he sat on his horse and looked around everywhere.

“April starts it all.” Otto understood as he remembered. “So, we are here looking for my fiancé. She disappeared right before the wedding, and we know she took a boat to the mainland, but then we lost her. No telling where she may have gone. Some are saying she may have taken a ship to some distant port, like Constantinople or Provence, and we will never find her.”

“How do you feel about that?” Giovanni asked.

Otto shrugged. “Not one way or the other. I only saw her that one time, briefly, when she—when we were younger.” He shrugged again. “I have advisors who thought it was a bad deal from the beginning. They are already working on an arrangement with the Emperor of the Eastern Romans. Apparently, he has a second daughter, Zoe something.” He honestly did not look terribly interested in marriage of whatever kind. It told Giovanni that he might not have been an attentive or good husband, so keeping Leonora was just as well.

Giovanni looked up at Lord Stephano and raised his voice. “Sorry. Just circus people here. We don’t allow strangers in our midst. Have to protect the secrets of the circus, you know.”

Lord Stephano harumphed, but Otto smiled until Giovanni took his arm and led him a few steps further away.

“You asked me four questions last time. Now I have a question for you.”

“Fair enough,” as Giovanni let go and turned to face the young emperor.

“Do you have any friends?”

Otto looked taken aback by the question. “I…” He tried to play it straight. “I have lots of people who like to hang around the court and smile and agree with everything I say.”

“Seriously.”

Otto looked down. “I have generals, captains, advisors, counselors,,,”

“A butcher, a baker, and a candlestick maker, but that does not answer the question.”

Otto shuffled one foot. “No,” he said. “Not really.”

“Well, you have one,” Giovanni said. “I will always be your friend and tell you the truth, even if you don’t want to hear it, and even if it gets me in trouble.”

Otto nodded, paused, hugged Giovanni, and spoke. “I have an empire to run. You have a circus to run…”

“About like running a madhouse.”

“Same,” Otto said with a smile. “Still, I could envy you.”

“My father used to say, never judge a man until you have walked a mile in his shoes.”

“I’ve heard that one, or something like that.”

The two turned back to the horses and Lord Stephano had something more to say. “Aren’t you going to order your soldiers to search the camp?”

Otto shook his head as he mounted. “She is not here. But if she was you should not worry. If she is with Don Giovanni she is in the safest place in the world she could be, even if my friend misbehaves sometimes.” He smiled at that thought and said, “See you later.”

“Later,” Giovanni echoed.

One week later, he got a letter from Otto. It said he would be in Rome all summer, or at least at the beginning of the summer. He really wanted to see the circus again, but he did not know Giovanni’s schedule. If possible, he should certainly be in Rome the first two weeks in June. Could he maybe come to Rome June first? Then he said that things often change with two such busy people, but God willing they can hopefully catch up with each other in Rome. Good luck with all the new people, he said, and signed it informally, though it was sealed with all the bells and whistles of the Holy Roman Emperor.

“Good luck,” Giovanni said to himself.

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

MONDAY

Sabotage, chapter 7 in three parts, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Don’t miss it. Happy Reading

Medieval 6: Giovanni 6 A Morning Visit, part 1 of 2

January 7, 2025November 24, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Knock, knock,” Giovanni said as he knocked on the door of his own wagon. “Time to wake up. You have been in there long enough. Time to come out and meet your family.”

He heard a great deal of shuffling about before he heard the girl’s voice. “I can’t come out. I’m in my underthings. That is almost naked. The only clothes I can find must be yours. What happened to my dress?”

“We burned it.”

“What?” Giovanni heard the panic.

“No way to identify that you were ever here,” he said and waited. She eventually responded.

“Okay. So what am I supposed to wear? I can’t walk around naked.”

“You are in your underthings which covers just about everything. We are your family now. Nobody is going to say anything.”

“No way,” she responded. “I saw the way you looked at me.”

“Not half as bad as the way you looked at me.” He smiled. He imagined her turning red.

“I should slap you, again,” she said.

“So my name is Don Vincenzo Giovanni III. Have you got a name?”

“You are no knight.”

“Sadly, I am. It is an honor given by the Doge himself, in perpetuity, along with the land grant of all this lovely swampland. It is an honor too great for me. Most call me Giovanni, but some have begun to call me Don Giovanni. My father was Vincenzo. My grandfather was the original Don Giovanni the first. Have you got a name?” He waited for what seemed like a long time and imagined she was thinking up a good fake name to give him. She responded at last and surprised him.

“Leonora,” she said softly.

“I thought…” Giovanni responded, and no doubt to her surprise he said, “But that is your real name. Are you sure you want to risk using it?”

“How do you… What do you…” She cracked the door, and like she did in the night, she peeked out at him, squinting only a little in the bright sunlight, even as she figured it out. “You heard the watch calling my name in the night.” She shut the door.

“That and other things,” he said. He figured it out. She was the niece of the Doge, Leonora Orseolo, daughter of Lord Stephano Orseolo. She was supposed to marry his friend Otto. Honestly, Giovanni thought of Otto as a friend, but he had no idea what his friend might be like as a king and Holy Roman emperor. He probably would not be around much. He would go off and fight wars and she would be stuck at home, maybe with children and otherwise bored out of her mind. Clearly, she was not the greedy, power hungry sort who could not wait to be empress so she could lord it over everyone. That was unusual, but it said she was worth keeping and protecting. He would not give her away, and no one else in the circus would, either. That is not what circus people did. “But are you sure you want to use your real name?”

“It is my name,” she said flatly to end the debate.

Giovanni tapped his chin before he spoke. “You need to be the harlequin to disguise yourself. We can call you Harlequin, or better yet, Harley.”

“Harley,” she said the name and at least did not object. “But what is a harlequin?”

“The sidekick, or maybe the first assistant of the ringmaster who runs the circus. Harlequin keeps the acts running in the proper order and fills in the gaps sometimes so our visitors, that is, the audience does not get bored. It is a real responsibility and requires some good judgement. You showed me in the night that you are a good little actress and think quick on your feet. I am certain you can master the part if you set your mind to it.

“You think I have a good mind?” she spoke through the door. “Flora, my nursemaid said men don’t want a woman with a mind and I should practice not thinking anything at all.”

“I suspect Flora never spent any real time out here in the real world.”

“Is that what this is, the real world?”

“Yes. Yes it is. It is where the actual people live and work, rich and poor, powerful and powerless, kind and mean, loving and hateful, generous and greedy, big and little, men and women, people of all sorts. It is God’s great tapestry of many, many threads that are woven in and out of each other’s lives. Our job is to live our lives well and not fray the thread, and we have only three things to help us, our body, heart, and soul—our flesh, feelings, and thoughts. These are God’s precious gifts to us and the only things that can help us make our good way in the world. Why Flora or anyone else would tell you to ignore or get rid of one of your God-given gifts makes no sense to me.”

“And faith,” Leonora responded through the door. “We have to believe when God is done with our part he will have made a magnificent picture.”

“Faith,” Giovanni nodded. He sat on the steps, and it sounded to him like she sat with her back to the door. They were inches from one another with only the door between them.

“But harlequin,” she asked. “What does she do?”

“Well, in the past, harlequin has been a young boy, maybe thirteen, with the flexibility in their body to act and the quick mind to be a real help. Personally, I believe you have all the qualities to be the best harlequin ever. I believe in you.”

“You hardly know me.”

“But I will get to know you, and what I have seen and heard thus far has greatly encouraged me.”

“Me too,” she said so softly Giovanni almost missed it. She spoke up “But harlequin?”

“Harlequin is a mischievous spirit, representing a spirit of chaos, who seems to get in the middle of everything like he—she wants to muck everything up, but it is actually all carefully planned out for the most part. Harlequin works out with the acrobats and clowns, and tells jokes and recites poetry, funny poetry.”

“I don’t know any funny poetry.”

“You can learn but listen. It will be hard work to learn it all in a short time. I don’t expect you to master the job in a month, but we only have a month before we go out on the road, and you should know the basics by then. I would guess not much was required of you growing up. You probably had servants to do everything for you. But there are no servants here. You will need to be kind to the people, and helpful, always willing to lend a hand. Are you willing and able to love your circus family? You will have to work, and much will be expected of you. Are you prepared for that? Are you willing to work hard and earn your place?”

Giovanni waited for the answer.

“Yes,” she said. “I want to be my own person not an appendage of some man, no offence. I think I am a nice person, and that is what I want to be. I know I have much to learn, and probably much to unlearn, but I don’t want it handed to me. I want to earn it, to earn respect and love, and I will work hard. I will always try to not disappoint you and bring honor to my circus family.

“Just do what is right and do your best. That is all anyone can ask or do.”

“I will.” she said, and Giovanni swore he felt her smile even as Gabriella, Needles, Rosa, and Edwina, wife of the knife thrower came tromping up to the door. Edwina brought the shears to cut Leonora’s hair.

“Move,” Needles said, bluntly.

“Girl,” Gabriella said more sweetly. “We have breakfast and clothes.”

“Open the door,” Rosa commanded. Rosa came dressed in her acrobat outfit which had very unladylike pants. It was all she would wear since she got it, and someone had the good sense to say maybe Harley needed to see that pants were not an evil thing for women.

Medieval 6: Giovanni 5 Search and Rescue, part 3 of 3

January 6, 2025November 24, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Giovanni sat at his father’s bedside. He had been a poor, rebellious son, but not so bad that his father did not trust the whole world to him. “You’ll grow up,” Father said. “A little sooner than I planned, but you will. Take care of Titania. Take care of Baklovani and the rest.”

“I will, Father,” Giovanni said, though he wondered who the rest might be.

“You are the Don, now,” Father told him. “The title that was given to my father by the Doge I now give to you. Don Giovanni, the third of that name.”

“Yes father.” Giovanni said. He wanted to say many things, but his mouth would not cooperate so he sat there in silence, listening intently.

“Son.” Father grabbed Giovanni’s arm. He could feel it in his sleep. “Don’t let the circus die. Don’t let Corriden take over. He is too greedy, too selfish, too mean, and unfair to the others. He will kill the show, and maybe kill the whole idea so there will never be another circus.”

“Don’t worry, father.” Giovanni lied. “It is all arranged. The show will go on for many years to come. It is the Don Giovanni Circus.”

“The Greatest Show on Earth,” Father said with a smile.

Giovanni returned his father’s smile, and thought as far as Corriden went, he had already taken the whole circus to his new winter camp several miles away. They were building tents and things and planning to continue the tradition, at least at this point.

Where would they go? Giovanni wondered. He decided they would probably follow the same pattern of towns and cities the circus always followed. Giovanni decided he had to get out in front of Corriden.

He thought about the ones who stayed with hm. They wanted nothing to do with Corriden, especially Baklovani the wolfman. Baklovani and Corriden hated each other and used to argue all the time. Then there was Madigan the musician. He swore Corriden cheated him once too often, and Constantine, the tightrope walker; but he would not say why he stayed. Titania, he knew, stayed because she was secretly in love with Giovanni’s father, and sometimes mothered Giovanni.

“We will rebuild our circus,” he told everyone. “We will find acts and make the Don Giovanni Circus better than ever.”

“There is no Don Giovanni Circus left.” In a moment of honesty, before they gathered at the graveside, Madigan growled. “I might do better on the road by myself, like the old days.”

That was when Oberon, Goldiwig, Sabelius and Madam Figiori showed up. They really did save the circus. They had enough to build on then. One half-troll, two dwarfs and an elf come all the way from Avalon.

He smiled in his sleep and watched his dream turn to Avalon, the home for all his little ones, all the elves, ogres, dwarfs, and fee that were given into his care in ancient times. Avalon. and the seven isles, and the incalculable isles beyond rested in the Second Heavens like the layers on an onion, taking up the same space, but separated by time and the unique properties of the Second Heavens.

Giovanni woke.

He thought he heard something, but all seemed quiet and still in the night. Was there trouble in Avalon? No, he decided it was only his imagination. He got up quietly and drew back the window curtain, opening the shutters at the same time. The moonlight fell on the sleeping girl. She looked ideal, angelic, lovely. He stopped and shook himself. She was circus now and he did not sleep with circus women. As young as he was, he had already had more than his share of women, sampling the wares up and down the Italian shores. But he never touched the circus women. He imagined he would have a hard time and no show at all if everyone started sleeping around.

But sweet Jesus, she was beautiful. He stood, stepped to the door, and looked outside taking in the moon and the stars in a clear night sky.

“Boss?” Sabelius was there.

“Watching over her?” he asked. “Making sure the watch does not come back?”

“I am,” he admitted.

“I’ll be back,” Giovanni said, but instead of walking to the outhouses as Sabelius might have expected, he ran to the nearest shore point and tossed himself into the sea. I needed a cold shower, he told himself. Since it was early spring, he found the water plenty cold. But when he came out, he was still filled with desire for the child sleeping in his bed. He thought of Madam Delfin. She was a noble lady. She would know what to do and do it very well besides.

He shook his head. He surprised himself. He hardly knew the girl, but he already knew no other woman would satisfy the longing he felt. “Good while it lasted,” he mumbled and stopped at the outhouse before returning to the wagon where in a matter of minutes he fell asleep again and dreamed.

This time, he dreamed of witches. There were two, floating about ten feet off the ground, sharing thoughts with one another and cackling. It was true. They were cackling, cliché though that was. Suddenly, a streak of power came from somewhere behind a building. They were in a town. The witches shrieked and flew off, and the Flesh Eaters came to the town square. They put their weapons away and started grabbing the people who suddenly appeared in the square. They shot out their tongues and attached their tongues to the people, usually in the neck, and sucked out all the blood neat as a vampire. Then they started eating the people.

Giovanni wanted to turn away, but as often happens in dreams, he was stuck, unable to so much as close his eyes, until the Flesh Eaters saw him. They chased him. Many abandoned their feast and chased him, blood and torn flesh still dripping from their sharp toothed mouths. They kept jutting their tongues out at him like they were smelling his blood in the air.

Giovanni’s feet could move, but not fast enough. They were going to catch him. He felt sure he would be caught. He ran through the streets, transitioned to fields, some fallow, some filled with wheat. He ran up the side of the hill and down the other side into a dark and spooky forest full of monsters. It was the haunted forest Greta went through. It was the forest with dead water where Festuscato faced the Grendel. It was the mist filled forest where Gerraint found Arthur after his indiscretion with Mordred’s mother. He expected to run into blue painted faces in the mist, men ready to ambush him. It was the forest where Margueritte took an arrow in her side that almost took her life.

Giovanni tried to break out of the dream. He tried to wake up, but all he did was find himself in a box canyon. He reached the wall—the cliff face. The Flesh Eaters, Succubus, hags of Abraxas, and even the witches were nearly on him. He would have to climb the cliff, but he really did not like high places. Oddly enough, he thought if he fell to his death that would deprive all of his pursuers from getting him. With that thought, he woke up. The sun was rising. His mouth felt completely dried out. He smacked his glue-like lips, put one hand to his stomach, and decided he was hungry. He paused.

He looked at the girl and sighed before he pulled the blanket up to cover the girl. She responded in her sleep by pulling the blanket under her chin and smiling. Her eyes never opened, so Giovanni went out quietly to see if Gabriella started cooking breakfast.

While he walked, he wondered why he never checked on the Flesh Eaters. He wondered more about the succubus, and the hags. Now that Abraxas was gone over to the other side, there were no more hags. He wondered more about the witches. He did the calculations in his head and concluded the Other Earth, the source of what many called magic energy, phased out of range of his earth some twenty three years ago, and it would stay out of range for three hundred years. Presently, the amount of magic energy leaking between the two universes was negligible and getting less. There were no more witches or wizards on Earth unless they carried the magic in their blood. He would have to think about that.

Giovanni thought about Avalon, that special place that the Kairos called home. Of course, he was presently the Kairos, so for the time being it was his home. Alice, a life of his who would not even be born until far in the future lived there and had lived there since 4500 years before Christ. He shook his head. Making sense of his own life or lives could be hard to follow, even for him.

With Avalon he thought about the innumerable sprites that inhabited the world and went to Avalon for a time of rest. He wondered why he had not called on any of them to help him in his times of need. Well, he had two dwarfs, one elf, and a half troll. But just as well. As Kirstie said, so he needed to work things out in the human world with human beings the best he could and should not depend on the little ones who had their own work in the world to do.

“Up for breakfast?” Gabriella interrupted his introspection.

“You are up plenty early,” he responded.

“I get up every day at this time, but you would not know. You usually sleep in.”

“Only because of so many late night hours,” Giovanni excused himself, accepted a plate of breakfast, and sat at a table thinking again. He wondered if his father was really in a better place. He believed he was.

Medieval 6: Giovanni 5 Search and Rescue, part 2 of 3

January 1, 2025November 24, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“One minute.” Giovanni yelled in a grumpy voice. The girl, in her underclothes, looked prepared to finish the job. “Woah,” he whispered. “That will be quite enough.” He could not help staring. She was beautiful. She stared too, but the look in her eyes was more that of fear barely overcome by a minimum of trust and a great deal of curiosity.

“What’s wrong?” She whispered back.

He wanted to say, nothing, but instead he put a hand to his chin. “Something’s missing,” he said and reached for the cup of water on the desk. He splashed her and she nearly shouted, and perhaps wanted to slap him again, but hesitated when he splashed himself. “Sweat,” he explained. “Muss your hair.” She did as the knock came again, this time more rudely. “Lord.” They heard the man speaking as Sabelius had spoken. Clearly the man did not want to upset the strongman. “Your pardon, but we must search every wagon.”

“In the bed,” Giovanni said, taking the girl by the arm and directing her toward the back of the wagon. “Give a good performance,” he insisted. She took some dirt from the table where it had gotten a little wet and smeared in on her face. “Good touch,” he said as he stuffed her dress into a nearby trunk.

“Coming!” He shouted with some anger. “I said I was coming.” The girl slipped under the covers as he opened the door. “What?” He echoed the girl’s word, but with enough ferocity to make the watchman take a step back. Giovanni noticed there were six of them with Sabelius. Probably the only reason this one had the courage to push up to the door in the first place.

“Your pardon,” he repeated himself. “There is a girl missing and she was last seen heading toward your camp. We have been ordered to search everywhere if you don’t mind.” He craned his neck in an attempt to see into the wagon.

“Whose orders?” Giovanni got curious but sounded disturbed.

“Lord Orseolo.” The man said with some sense of self-importance. “The Doge himself.”

Giovanni raised an eyebrow.

“Who is it, Giovanni, dear?” Giovanni felt almost as surprised then as the man in front of him. The girl in his bed actually had the audacity to speak up.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” he said, playing right along. “Just some rude men.” He stepped aside far enough for them to see in, but not quite far enough for them to enter. Sabelius nudged one of the watch and winked at another, and they got the message.

“Sir.” Clearly, the man outside still wanted to come in.

“Seen any runaway maidens?” Giovanni said over his shoulder.

“No maidens in here.” The girl spoke in a very sultry voice, and then she stuck her dirty face and scraggly hair out from between the bed curtains and spoke very sweetly. “Do send them away and come back to bed, Giovanni dearest.”

Giovanni turned to the men who were mostly smiling by then. “To paraphrase Julius Caesar.” he said in a theatrical tone. “You came. You saw. But I will conquer!” He slammed the door in their faces and paused only one moment to make sure they did not knock again. He stepped to the bed.

“Are they gone?” she whispered.

Giovanni shrugged, put one hand to his ear and mimed listening at the door. “Are you ticklish?” he asked but he did not give her time to answer. He found out that she was. Very quickly, though, he stopped. She backed away to the back wall of the wagon and the fear returned to her eyes.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said softly, thanking Angel who taught him long ago to say that. “It is my policy never to abuse any maiden I happen to save.” He stood and walked to the door. He cracked it open as the girl had done earlier. The Watch and their torches were receding from the camp. He opened the door a little wider, then and spoke. “Thank you Sabelius,” he said, knowing that the strongman would hear him. “Oberon!” he called, knowing the dwarf would hear too, and soon be present.

“Have you saved many maidens?” the girl asked, covering herself a little with the bed sheets.

“You are the first.” Giovanni said and smiled. She gave him back a radiant smile of her own. “But it is a good policy, don’t you think?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Yes indeed.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked, offering her the plate Gabriella had brought.

“No, thank you,” she said, but she looked and then smelled it as he held it out. She put her fingers delicately into the bowl and took a dainty bite. Then she looked at him, smiled again, and took the plate. “This is quite good.”

Giovanni found himself grinning. “Runaway from home?” he asked. “A bad marriage?” he suggested.

“No.” The girl shook her head. “Haven’t married him yet.”

“Ah.” he spoke wisely. “Bad arrangement. You’re in love with someone else, I suppose.”

The girl shook her head again. “There is no one else,” she said between bites.

“Hmm.” Giovanni was almost stumped. “Then I guess you must not like the look of him.”

“Haven’t seen him,” she said. “Well, once years ago. I was not happy with what I saw. I was supposed to get married at the end of the week, but not now.”

“Then what?” Giovanni threw his hands up.

She paused in her dining. “You almost got it right,” she said in her tender voice. “He is a mean and horrible person from all I hear. He only cares about himself. He is demanding and selfish and self-centered.”

“In other words, a man,” Giovanni said with a smile.

“A real ogre,” she countered, and she pined with a dramatic flair. “I would rather die.” Then she looked at Giovanni to see if he approved of her performance.

“Needs a wilting hand on the forehead,” he said and showed her the move. She laughed, genuinely, covering her mouth, sweetly. “I would watch those ogre comments, though.” he said, half seriously. “Some of my best friends are ogres.” She almost laughed again, but just then Sabelius opened the door and Oberon came bounding in. The girl let out a little scream.

“Begging your pardon, Lady,” Sabelius said with a tip of his hat. “I know I’m an ugly sight for those not used to me.”

“Buckets of ugly.” Giovanni agreed.

Sabelius smiled. “But I would never hurt anyone. I’ve been good so long I don’t know if I could even if I wanted to.”

The girl stared as if she was not sure.

“Stand up.” Oberon talked to the girl but no one listened to him. The girl did stand, however, but her eyes never quit turning between Sabelius and Giovanni. Meanwhile, Oberon had to stand on the chair to measure her bust.

“It’s true.” Giovanni tried to reassure the girl about the big man. “He’s a good egg.”

“I’ll wait outside,” Sabelius offered and backed out of the doorway. The girl made a visible sigh of relief.

“Great shape for a human. What costume?” Oberon caught Giovanni’s attention.

“What should she do?” He started thinking.

“Do?” The girl asked.

“You will be safe here.” he said. “You won’t be found, but you will have to become one of us.”

“Everyone works and everyone shares,” Oberon explained.

“There are lots of secrets here,” Giovanni tried to continue, but Oberon liked to talk.

“But no one tells. The circus is like a family, and what we know stays with us. We don’t talk to outsiders much, at least not about secrets. You will be safe with us, but you will have to become one of us.”

The girl sat down on the edge of the bed.

“But I can’t do anything,” she protested.

“You let me worry about that,” Giovanni said. “You’re smart as well as pretty. I can tell. Just because you have no obvious talent, well, you can learn.”

“But you don’t understand.” The girl expressed her sense of frustration and hopelessness. “The Doge won’t give up. He will keep searching and searching until I am caught.”

“But we won’t be here in a month,” he countered. “On the first of April we head out on the road, to get ahead of Corriden, and then there is a whole season of shows, spring, summer and fall ahead of us up and down the peninsula.”

“We will leave Venice?” The girl caught on. “But what can I do?”

“Harlequin.” Giovanni said at last, having decided.

“Boss.” Oberon was not so sure. “Can she acrobat? Can she even tell a joke?”

“She is young and flexible.” he said. “And comedy can be learned. Besides, the make-up will hide her face and make her all but impossible to find.

“She’ll never pass for a thirteen year old boy,” Oberon pointed out.

“Whoever said harlequin had to be a young boy?” He felt sure she could play the part. “Still, I suppose the hair will have to go.”

“My hair?” The girl was lying down. She took a handful of her long blonde hair and held it to her lips as her eyes slowly closed.

“I don’t suppose you could throw her back,” Oberon quipped.

“No, she’s a keeper,” he said. “Besides, harlequin is the one thing we were really missing.”

“I’ll get the Missus to fix the costume so you will have it by morning,” Oberon said more softly. The girl started breathing more deeply as she fell off to sleep.

“Thank Needles for me.” he said, reaching into the trunk. “Here. You better burn her dress. And by the way, thanks to you and Sabelius for watching out for me.”

“No problem.” Oberon brushed it off. “But if it’s all the same to you I think Sabelius and I will go throw rocks at Madam Figiori’s booth. She cast a spell around her booth so the night watch did not disturb her. She was in there snoring away while the rest of us suffered.”

“Don’t break anything,” Giovanni said with a little laugh. Oberon left, and immediately he remembered how tired he was. He looked at the bed and watched the girl sleep for a minute. He could hardly keep his eyes off her not to mention his hands, but if she was going to be part of the circus, that made her strictly off limits. In a great act of will, he forced himself to think of the girl as a sister, and one he needed to protect, not abuse. He pulled a blanket out of the trunk and curled up in his chair. He blew out the candle and almost immediately began to dream.

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

MONDAY

Giovanni struggles through a restless night full of strange dreams but in the morning they convince Leonora to be the harlequin for the circus as long as she stays hidden. Until Monday, Happy Reading

Medieval 6: Giovanni 5 Search and Rescue, part 1 of 3

December 31, 2024November 24, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Giovanni felt so tired and the bed looked so inviting. He glanced once again at the lineup. They were to head out in less than five weeks and all he could see was that they were not ready. They were only one month away from having to pack the wagons and head out on the road. He sighed. Theirs would not be the first show that had to work out the kinks on the road.

He heard a knock at the door. He was slow to rise and slower to answer. All he really wanted was sleep.

“Gabriellla.” He spoke through the open door at the back of the wagon, a wagon modeled after the one driven by Rostanzio the Magnificent. Giovanni was practicing sleeping in the wagon, and he thought, Everyone was practicing everything. The setting sun blazed red in the distance. “Maffeo!” He shouted before Gabriella could say anything. “Get those horses up for the night and tell Severas to get Sir Brutus in his cage and away from the fish. No one wants to see a bloated bear sleep through his performance.” The bear had been asleep for most of the winter, but woke now and then, and one time it got awake enough in January to show what he could do. Another act without a boffo ending, Giovanni thought.

“I hear you.” Severas answered with a shout. He was coming up the hill from the outhouse. Giovanni shook his head and wondered who was grumpier, Severas or his bear. The man was frankly a bit of a mean old man. It was a wonder his wife, Berta, puts up with them both.

“Maffeo!” He shouted again.

Maffeo slapped Charles and grabbed Louis by the ear. Giovanni was again reminded of the Three Stooges, but they caught the horse and he did not see any other animals around.

“Don Giovanni,” Gabriella grabbed his attention. “You must eat.” She pushed a bowl of fish and leeks into his hands. He was tired, not hungry, but he smiled.

“Thank you,” he said. “Since you have joined us I believe I’ve put on some weight.” Gabrielle and her husband Bergos were good people who thus far had kept everyone fed and happy; at least he heard no complaints about the cooking.

Gabrielle did not buy the fake smile. “You must keep your strength.” She spoke like a mother hen. “We will be on the road soon enough and there may be slim pickings on the road.” The woman had never been on the road, but she paid attention to the stories she heard.

“Winter in Venice can be rather slim pickings, too, but you seem to manage well,” he said more honestly.

“Umph.” She acknowledged that compliment with a grunt and slight nod of her head. The stern look on her face, however, did not change. “Eat.” She insisted and turned away.

“I will.” Giovanni smiled again, holding tight to the bowl, and he thought to himself that yes, these were good people, and as close to normal as he could get in the Don Giovanni circus. He turned and went back into the wagon. He closed the door and put the bowl on his desk where he had no intention of touching it.

Before bed, as was his habit, he pulled out the lockbox and counted their coins. They had precious little to start the season. He thought back to the day his father died, or the next day. He remembered what his father called his emergency backup stash. He hid it in the wallboards behind the bed and said you can never be too careful with thieves. He also said he never had any intention of using that backup money if he could help it. It was there to give him peace of mind, knowing if they got robbed that would not be the end of the circus.

Giovanni found the place in the wall easily enough. He found three gold pieces, a small bag of silver coins, and a larger bag of coppers. He knew then he could keep the circus going, but as he looked in the lockbox he was not so sure.

His mind turned to all the new acts and paused on Vader the knife thrower’s wife Edwina. Quite the contrast to her angry husband, she was a lovely, gentle woman. That may have been why he had the occasional streak of jealousy. Even so, Giovanni could not help himself thinking about her, but after a few moments of fantasy, he figuratively slapped his own face. He admitted that he had a problem with that sort of thing. The women always seemed willing enough; but he needed to always remember that his circus people were strictly off limits. He did not dare. The circus was like a family. It was important and better to think of family. It was one element that made it all work together. Edwina was, in that sense, something like a sister to him, and to violate her in that way would be like a strange sort of incest. He would never do that. He needed to never even think that way, no matter what.

He looked again at his bed, which he could just see behind the curtain and thought only of sleep. He was dog tired, and he remembered Corriden took the dog act with him. He had horses, and a bear. So maybe he was bear tired.

Giovanni put one hand to his head. He was eighteen, not thirty-eight. He had no business having such a stress headache. He needed sleep. In fact, he got in dive position when there came another knock at the door. He plopped back into his desk chair.

“Come in,” he hollered, too tired to rise. Oberon the dwarf marched in, while Sabelius the strong man removed his hat and came in slowly with his head bent to keep from hitting his head on the ceiling. “Where is Madam Figiori?” Giovanni asked.

“Sleeping, probably.” Oberon spoke and Giovanni sighed with jealousy. “But she said you were going to need help tonight, so here we are.”

“My saviors.” He often referred to them in that way.

“So what’s up, boss?” Oberon asked.

“More Corriden sabotage?” Sabelius suggested. Besides looking like an ugly human, an appearance that seemed to get exaggerated in the firelight at night, he really was too bright for a half troll. They all knew Corriden and the Corriden Circus was out to get them, and maybe shut down their chances to make a fresh beginning. Porto and Berlio had been caught several times trying to steal things, including one attempt to steal the smaller circus show tent. Berlio, the magician, and his wife Priscilla got caught around the chuck wagon. Fortunately, Madam Figiori was able to check with some real magic. If they intended to poison the food in any way, they did not have the chance.

“No,” Giovanni said. “Just guard the door so I can get some sleep.” He pleaded.

“Don’t think so.” Oberon shook his head. “Madam said something about a girl and the night watch. Could have been a girl on the night watch, but I suppose they don’t put girls on that duty. Maybe we are supposed to watch a girl in the night, or the girl might watch us, or something.”

“We’ll keep our eyes and ears open.” Sabelius interrupted and backed carefully from the wagon, reaching in with one enormous hand and hauling Oberon after him. The door closed softly.

“Thank you Lord,” Giovanni breathed with a quick look to the ceiling. He dived into the bed and it was only then that he realized he was too twisted inside to pass out. A moment later it was too late as he heard a sharp, panic-driven knock on the door. He got up and answered it this time, not at all surprised to find himself pushed out of the way by a young woman who immediately shut the door, and then turned and opened it a crack to peek out.

“Don Vincenzo Giovanni, at your service,” he said, adding a little bow to his words.

“Hello.” The girl granted him a quick acknowledgement, barely turning her head before gluing her eye right back to the crack in the doorway. Giovanni dutifully drew the curtains and closed the shutters. Then he could not resist bending over her to peek over her shoulder. She smelled sweet, but then clearly she was a noble lady of the highest quality. Giovanni would have expected no less.

“Search them all.” A man shouted.

“Leave that alone.” Giovanni heard Oberon. “Help! Thieves!”

“Don’t open that!” That sounded like Piccolo, the juggler and practical joker. Giovanni imagined him tempting the night watch. Sure enough, he heard the growl of the bear, a man’s scream, and the sound of crashing like men in flight.

“No.” That voice sounded extremely deep and close. Sabelius stood by the door. “Don Giovanni is resting. You will not disturb him.”

“Orders.” The man spoke with a shaky voice. “Got to look in them all.” Sabelius was showing his more troll and ogre qualities by the torchlight. With his great size, he was not one to bump into after dark.

“No,” Sabelius spoke again.

“Quickly,” Giovanni whispered, grabbed the girl by the shoulders and pulled her into the wagon, closing the door tight in the process. “Can you act?”

“What?” The girl looked more confused than frightened.

“Do you want to be caught?” he asked.

“No, please.” The seriousness of her predicament came over her and she realized this young man was presently her only hope.

“Then I need you to play act,” he said. “Give me a good performance.”

“What?” She looked confused again.

“Take your dress off.” he said, peeling off his shirt in the process.

“What?”

As Giovanni pulled his head from beneath his shirt he felt the slap of her hand across his face. He grabbed her shoulders, stared into her eyes, and carefully enunciated. “It-is-only-pretend.” He spoke in his most directorial voice and saw the light go off in her eyes, as they heard a knock on the door.

“Don Giovanni?” Sabelius spoke softly as if wanting to wake him, but not wanting to wake him to do it.

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

December 30, 2024November 24, 2024M 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.