Castle Walls (7 page)

Reminded of the owner's less than proper remarks and looks, Katerin stepped away from the window. "Time to get dressed," she murmured, "before Ros comes looking." She opened her cupboard and pulled out the borrowed clothing. In minutes, she was dressed, tucking the blouse into her skirt. The brunette looked back inside and removed her shoes and the sack.

Settling on the bed, she rummaged among her meager belongings and removed a brush. After several minutes, her hair appeared somewhat normal. She pulled it back, tying it into a knot before returning the brush to the sack. Katerin paused, fingers finding her doll within and caressing the flaxen hair. It had been silly, grabbing Isabella the night of the attack. Should have grabbed food. Or another weapon. Shaking her head, the brunette pushed away the need to cry, thumb running along a porcelain cheek. "Now's not the time," she said, clearing her throat against the knot.

Briskly, she closed the sack and returned it to the cupboard. Sniffing and blinking against stinging tears, Katerin slipped on her shoes and purposefully made her way to the door.

Sunlight had yet to make its way into the clearing, only the tops of the surrounding trees aglow. That hadn't stopped a good number of the performers from waking, however, and the clearing was abuzz with activity. A handful was around the fire, drinking tea and watching one of the men stirring something in a pot. Others were at their wagons, doing any number of odds and ends chores.

As Katerin made her way to Ilia's wagon, she received several calls of greeting. She smiled and waved in return, heart warmed by the honest welcome. Upon her arrival, she found her handmaiden throwing two balls in the air and concentrating on Gemma who was juggling three.

"Good morning, Ilia."

The blonde, startled, caught one ball but dropped the other as she whirled to curtsey. "Morning, Lady," she murmured, looking at the ground in deference.

Horrified, Katerin rushed forward. "Nay, nay, Ilia!" she said, grabbing the taller woman by the shoulders, forcing the bowed head to look at her. "You mustn't curtsey any longer or we'll never survive the coming weeks." She looked at Gemma, finding hazel eyes watching curiously.

"Of course, Katerin," Ilia responded, chagrined. She almost curtseyed once more but stopped herself. "I'm sorry, Lady!" she exclaimed, blushing.

Pulling the handmaiden into her arms, Katerin held her close. "Nay. You've no need to apologize. I surprised you." Feeling the need to gloss over the incident, she released Ilia and stepped back. "And what are you doing this fine morning?"

"Learning to juggle, though I fear I'm making a mess of things," the blonde said, ducking her head, face tinting.

Gemma shook her head vigorously, giving them a thumbs up signal. She held the three balls she'd been tossing about in one hand with a fair amount of ease as she stooped to pick up the one Ilia dropped. Tossing it to the woman, she again began juggling, nodding at the blonde to resume.

Katerin stepped back. "I believe Gemma thinks you're doing a fine job, Ilia," she soothed. "I'll go see about breakfast while you continue your lesson."

"Aye, lady," the handmaiden responded, already distracted as her eyes concentrated on the clown's movements. Her hands twitched in mirrored reaction before she began tossing her two balls back and forth.

Attention diverted from her, the brunette eased away lest she disturb the lesson once more. Looking about the clearing, she found there was really nowhere else to go but the fire. With a resigned sigh, Katerin approached the central gathering place of the circus, hoping the others would keep Ros distracted and deter further discourteous remarks.

"Good morning, Lady," the owner welcomed in smooth tones.

Perhaps it was only imagined, but Katerin thought she detected a note of mocking humor. Raising her chin in cool defiance, she said, "Good morning, Ros." Smiling at the others, she greeted them with a bit more warmth. That they appeared amused didn't faze her, aside from a slight blush.

The man who'd been stirring the pot waved a wooden spoon at her. "Would you like some breakfast, Katerin?"

"Very much, thank you…" She tried to recall the dark young man's name to no avail. Her eyes reflected her embarrassment as she stammered.

"Amar," he supplied with a chuckle. He scooped porridge into a bowl and handed it to her.

Accepting it, Katerin gave a small curtsey. "Thank you, Amar," she grinned.

"Eat well this morning, Katerin. We've a busy day ahead," Ros interrupted. To the others gathered, she asked, "Who has the midday meal today?"

"T'would be Gemma, if I don't miss my guess," Lucinda announced, looking up from a shirt she was mending.

Calling to the juggling woman, Ros said, "Remember, Gemma. We work today - make the meal light and easy to carry."

Gemma nodded, eyes never leaving the balls she juggled in her hands. Eyes begging the question, Katerin looked about the fire.

"We'll be eating afoot today," a woman with skin as dark as night explained. "Once breakfast is complete and we're preparing for our pageant, Gemma will fix our midday meal."

"Aye," a blond man agreed with a wink. "And we'll pack it with and eat when hungry until the show's over and our guests go back to their homes." He leaned forward with a ready smile. "Be sure to get plenty. It'll be a long day."

Ros interjected, "Of course, Cristof eats like he's never had enough. Which is why we make him last in line for meals." As everyone laughed, including the blond, she added, "Else there'd be nothing left for the rest of us."

Unable to help but laugh with the others, Katerin watched as the blond patted his belly, his skinny form contrasting the gluttonous look on his face.

Clapping her hands together, the owner gained the attention of her troupe. "Time to prepare!" she called, her voice reaching all in the clearing. "We leave at midday for the township of Hodsin down the road. Gemma, the fire's yours. Ilia, you'll need to stick close to Minkhat and Sameer for the remainder of the morning. Lucinda and Katerin, I need to speak with you at my wagon when you've finished eating." Rising from her stool, Ros smiled at her troupe. "Today we give our guests the best show ever!"

There was a rousing cheer as the clearing became industrious. Ros, her manner that of a proud and indulgent parent, watched over them a moment before striding to her wagon. Caught up in the excitement, the dark princess watched her go, mind puzzling over what motivated the owner.

Chapter 4

Katerin scratched her scalp, wishing it didn't itch so much. Her waist length hair had been cut, now only reaching her shoulders. With its sheer weight no longer hanging, the gentle breezes made it move, tickling relentlessly. Her nose also itched, but she refused to touch it, not wanting to smear the makeup so diligently applied by Lucinda. Turning in her seat, she looked behind her at the remainder of the troupe.

Four wagons trailed Ros', each with an assortment of colorfully dressed people. A vague grumble could be heard from the next cage, the circus' only tiger pacing about in reaction to the excitement. Cristof was the driver of that particular wagon, the cat being his. Each of the horses had been decorated with feathered headdresses, their manes neatly combed and braided. A handful of people were still at the encampment, finishing last minute preparations for the show. Ilia was there, lending a hand with final costume stitching and practicing the lute for her first performance.

Despite the princess' circumstances, anticipation filled her and she was hard put to not fidget in her seat. Beside her, Ros clucked at the horses and held the reins. Occasionally, she'd glance at her charge, lip curled in humor at the barely contained entrancement.

Breaking through the trees, a small valley of farmland opened before them. Homesteads sprinkled the green patchwork, small dark knots in the distance. The road stretched out before them, bearing directly toward a larger cluster of buildings.

Ros pulled up her steeds, tying their reins about the brake. "Come, Katerin," she said before disappearing over the side of the wagon.

Gulping, the brunette obeyed, stopping long enough to peer down the suddenly very tall traveling abode. She saw the circus owner looking up, impatience flashing, and Katerin lifted her chin in response. With ginger steps, she eased over the side, feet finding the rungs that would carry her back to the ground. By the time she planted herself firmly on the dusty road, everyone else had gathered around Ros at the back of her wagon. The princess drifted closer.

"Hodsin is up ahead," the blonde was saying. "Daiki, release the dogs and have Minkhat help with the hoops. Martim, Tommaso, Cristof, Willem and Katerin will drive the wagons. Sameer and Abdullah, post the flyers and make it fun. Gemma, Minkhat, Usiku and Sati, do some tumbles and the like. Wilm will stay with the monkey. Have I forgotten anyone?"

The gathering looked at each other, a general murmur of dissent rising.

With a nod, Ros continued, "Fantastic. Hodsin was a godsend last season when we came through. Rumor has it they've done twice as well with their crops this year. Make it good and we'll have food for our table for a fortnight." With a final scan of her people, the blonde grinned rakishly. "Let's have at it, then." They parted with excited babble, each bent to their task.

Chewing her lower lip, Katerin edged closer to the owner. "I've not driven a wagon before," she murmured, blushing at her inability.

"No matter, Katerin," the blonde answered in a distracted tone as she pulled on soft black leather gloves. "Just hold the reins and keep them from being tangled. You'll not need any experience for it, the horses have been well trained." When the smaller woman still hesitated, Ros' eyes fixed upon her. Her voice warmed and she grinned slightly. "No worries, lass. I'll be holding their bridles down below. These big lummoxes don't spook easily."

Coloring further at Ros' attempt to ease her mind, the brunette ducked her head. "Aye. No worries." Swallowing hard, she turned without another word and climbed the rungs up the wagon. Katerin untied the reins, staring at the mess of leather in her hands for a moment.

To give the woman a bit more time to collect herself, Ros made a final check of the wagons and people, stopping here and there as needed to adjust costume or placement. Once all was well, she returned, looking up to see that Katerin had finally figured out which rein went where. "Ready?" she asked softly as she took the lead horse's bridle.

Katerin inhaled deeply, bolstering her courage as she nodded.

Ros craned her neck to look down the procession. "Let's go!" she called, tugging on the steed to get him started.

All in all, driving the wagon wasn't as difficult as Katerin thought. True to Ros' word, the mounts appeared to be steady and properly trained. All the brunette did was hold the straps of leather in loose hands as the circus owner lead the team.

About them, Hodsin woke up to the new arrivals as the wagons passed the first low buildings. Children called in excitement and ran towards the center of the township, announcing their visitors as a pair of wandering geese honked in displeasure at nearly being trampled. The adult inhabitants left their abodes and businesses to trail along with the circus, grinning in welcome at the pleasant interruption in their day, and a fine procession arrived at the town square. Once there, people stood aside as the troupe circled about a time or two, showing off the richly painted wagons and themselves before stopping.

"Township of Hodsin!" Ros called, her voice ringing through the square. She raised her arms and stepped forward, all eyes upon her welcome smile. "Let it be known that tonight -
tonight!
- a performance beyond your wildest imaginations shall occur not two leagues east of
this
spot!" The blonde stamped her boot to punctuate her sentence. "You are all invited to join us, to witness spectacular acts that will tease your fancy and boggle your mind!" Turning to the wagons, the blonde waved her people forward.

Katerin blinked from her reverie, chagrined that she'd been so openly staring at Ros' presentation; the energy fairly crackled about the circus owner. Glancing around, she could see the others climb from the wagons, moving toward the blonde and, scrambling, she followed suit. Unsure of what to do, however, the brunette opted to stand at the head of the team, gently holding a bridle as she watched.

"Witness just a sampling of what we have to offer," Ros finished, bowing elegantly and stepping back.

Daiki and Minkhat surged forward, four small dogs yapping at their heels. The swarthy clown held two medium sized hoops in his hand. At the dog trainer's instruction, the animals began an intricate pattern of leaping through them. In response, the people clapped, laughing when one dog appeared to take a liking to Minkhat, jumping up to bounce off his chest and through a hoop.

While this was occurring, the others were not idle and neither was the audience. Some of the people had drifted towards Cristof and he was regaling them with horrific tales of how many men his tiger had killed. At one point, he rapped the cage with a cane and the cat snarled and growled in response, scaring the living daylights out of the youngsters. Wilm was wandering about the crowd, the monkey on his shoulder, answering questions about the animal and allowing children to pet it. The boy's mother, Sati, was being chased about the crowd by Gemma, their behavior ludicrous in the extreme as they ran circles about people and generally caused havoc. Usiku, his midnight skin sporting a patchwork of colorful paint, closely studied an old man's clothing, half undressing the fellow in his inspection.

Once the dogs finished their exhibition, Daiki called them back, tossing them each a treat before taking the hoops from his assistant. Free from aiding the trainer, Minkhat leapt into the air with a whoop, doing a backflip before joining the chase of Sati and Gemma. Taking their cue, Tommaso and Martim stalked forward and glanced confidently about the clearing. After a moment of sizing the crowd up, they looked at each other, nodded and began their act.
Tommaso squatted down, holding very still as Martim placed a huge hand on his head. In seconds, the audience gasped as the second man levered his body up until he was standing, one handed, all his weight on his partner's head.