The Dragon Revenant - Katharine Kerr [31]
“Your basic desire to stay sane and alive, that’s what. Don’t be a dolt, Jill! You’re like a wounded man who’s afraid to have the chirurgeon stop his bleeding because pressing on the wound might hurt.” He paused, and he seemed to be studying the air all around her. “Well, you’re too worked up now to try a lesson. How about food, indeed? The Great Krysello is famished. If you wouldn’t mind assuming your guise of beauteous barbarian handmaiden, go down and ask the innkeep to send up a tray of meats and fruits. And a flagon of wine, too.”
“I’m hungry myself.” She managed to smile. “Oh mighty master of mysterious arts.”
Salamander was certainly right about the effects of food on her visionary state of mind. As soon as she’d eaten a couple of pieces of meat and some cracker-bread, she felt a definite change, the dulling, as he’d called it, which she needed so badly. Although the colors in the room seemed unusually intense, the constant shimmerings disappeared. A couple of glasses of sweet white wine finished her involuntary dweomer-working completely.
“When are we getting on the road?” she asked. “I wouldn’t mind leaving tomorrow, when the city gates open at dawn, say.”
“I know your heart burns with impatience, Jill my turtledove, but we must consider what Zandar, prince of the spice trade, is going to do next. Mayhap he’s heading home to Danmara, mayhap he’s traveling this way and that about the countryside, unloading his goods upon the commerce-minded public. If he is, we could be going one way while he’s going the other. If we go to Danmara to wait for him, we could sit around there for weeks. On the other hand, we can’t sit around here either, doing naught while evil villains scheme, plot, work wiles, or even machinate. Whichever way we go, we’ll have to travel slowly, stopping often to perform, like the showmen we call ourselves.”
“Well, true spoken. We’ve got to get some coin before we go anywhere, though. I can’t believe how much you’ve spent!”
“Good horses are not cheap in this rare and refined land.”
“We haven’t even got the horses yet, you wretched wastrel. Our show had best go well tonight, or you’re in for it.”
From a couple of jugglers Salamander had learned that any showman was welcome to perform in the public squares, provided he turned a quarter of his profits over to the archon’s men. When it grew dark, they hauled their newly acquired props down to the market, which was just coming alive again in the cool. Oil lamps flickering among the gaudy sun-shades and banners cast colored shadows on the white buildings, while the merchants and their customers stood in little groups, talking and joking over cups of wine and snacks of spiced vegetables wrapped in fresh-baked rounds of thin bread. After a little asking around Jill and Salamander set up on the terrace at the top of a flight of steps leading to a public building. While Jill laid charcoal into the braziers and sprinkled it with incense, Salamander spread out the fancy carpet, then picked up the cloth-of-gold drape and began doing tricks with it, making it swirl in the air and catch the light, or suddenly turn stiff and billow out like a sail before the wind. Down below a crowd gathered to watch.
“I am Krysello, Barbarian Wizard of the Far North. Look upon my marvels and be amazed!” He flicked the drape one last time, then let it settle on the steps. “Jillanna, my beauteous barbarian handmaiden, and I have traveled far across the seas from the wondrous kingdom of Deverry to amuse, delight, and mystify you with magic that your otherwise splendid city has never seen before.”
By now some fifty people were gathered at the foot of the stairs. Salamander slowly raised one arm and pointed at the first brazier. In a perfumed tower flames leapt up high, then fell, leaving the charcoal burning red and the sweet resins smoking. When the crowd gasped in honest awe, other people came running to see. Salamander waited until the crowd was steady again to light the second brazier.
“Shall I proceed with my humble show, oh good