A Shadow All of Light (39 page)

I pondered. “He must construct a big puppet in the Mardrake form and place it behind a gauzy dim backdrop and illume it so that its enlarged shadow falls on the scrim from behind. Then he must move on the stage in front in precise concord with the puppet shadow. The two shapes will be seen to be one monstrous shape.”

“How is he to sprout and extend tentacles and other aggressive organs that Tantalia shall cower from?”

“I cannot say.”

“Nor can I. Nor can he. And so he has sequestered himself to study and devise.”

“When he broke with Maxinnio, he brought all his properties and mechanisms and costumes with him,” Astolfo said. “Does he keep them here in a safe place? I should like to look among them, if I may.”

Now she turned shrewd eyes upon the maestro, speculating. “I am certain he would not like that.”

“I believe that he might,” Astolfo said, in his blandest manner, “for there is coin for him. If he keep and store in healthy condition some shadows of himself for use in Jester-roles, I would fee him for the borrowing.”

“You would, yes, but I dare not allow you to examine anything of his without permission. It would not be wise for me to stand on his wrong side. He hath a temper and is not of a forgiving nature. He is also in a position to cause injury to the production, a harm so severe I could not right it.”

“Perhaps I do not need to fumble through his effects,” Astolfo said. “If you could describe certain of his illusions and stage deceptions, I could judge if any can be of use for my purposes. Does he keep in store a number of umbrae in his own shape?”

“Some dozen or so, I should say.”

“Are these faithful to his own or has he added variation?”

She closed her eyes. “There are some shapes differing, but I cannot recall the small particulars.”

“Doth he engage with other troupes or do else for hire of this kind?”

“With other troupes, no. We have an understanding very firm. What other ventures he may undertake with his stagecraft I know not, nor care.”

“Has anyone besides ourselves made inquiry about him?”

“A trio of Bennios came seeking. They were a clumsy lot, ill fit to harlequin dress and without the natural grace that takes pains to seem graceless, as a Jester's part demands. I supposed that they desired instruction for their participation in some sort of event for the Feast, a guild dinner or a children's entertainment.”

“And not finding him—”

“They went away a little downcast. They did not say they would return, so I surmise that they went in search of another Jester. At Feast time there are plenty to be found.”

“Those expert in gamboling, as is Cocorico, must be much in demand,” Astolfo said.

“For the while. Then they become again objects of indifference and derision. 'Tis like the onset of the Scarlet Pear season. At first everyone is avid to devour, but within four days they have eaten their fill and take the fruit for granted. It is the season of the Jester now, but after the coffin is buried in the hill, interest wanes.”

“But Cocorico thrives also in the dull times.”

“He possesses crafts that can be fitted to numerous endeavors,” the Signora said. “He takes ordinary turns in the streets and plazas, amusing both child and elder. He is also something of a musician and can play pretty on the cithara and sing sweetly also. But for the most part he bawleth ranting rhymes in a cracked voice.”

I could not but obey the impulse that came of a sudden upon me, and sang out:

“If those so-called truly were wise,

They'd see themselves through Bennio's eyes,

And thereupon 'twould come to pass

They'd find out every sage an ass.”

The Signora and Astolfo stared at me in wonder. At last, Anastasia said, “Thou hast caught the words but not the tune,” and Astolfo added, “You must strive more mightily, if you would make a passable clown of thyself.”

*   *   *

“What a rout of Bennios!” Mutano said. He sat himself heavily upon the bench beneath the oak in the east garden and took without asking permission the flagon from my hand and swallowed a good half of the wine remaining. “I will see red and yellow harlequin diamonds all through my dreams tonight. The people are readying for the Feast in thorough fashion.”

“Where did you post yourself?” Astolfo asked.

“At Daia Plaza. It is the largest common gathering place and I thought to see the widest variety of all sorts of persons, as well as of Jesters. I would almost say the Jesters outnumbered the others all put together, but they were not quite so thick as that. There were scores of children playing at the role.” He paused, knitting his brow. “It is a little disturbing to see young and fresh bodies trying to gnarl into deformed postures—an ugly sight. I think the young do not comprehend that a baleful disease twists some of our Bennios into figures-of-eight, that it is pain which makes them so bilious.”

“I believe this is not generally known,” Astolfo said. “It would be hard for some to conceive that the Jesters' mockery and ridicule is an outcry of agony.”

I quoted:

“Up my arse there spires a drill,

But it gives my soul no thrill;

In my gut there sits a stone,

A homely plaything but mine own.”

“Falco has thrice besmutched this pleasant day with hoary Jester rhymes,” Astolfo said. “I wonder if he envisions himself becoming one of that brotherhood.”

“Nay, never,” Mutano said. “Only look at him. He is too tall for the role, too well bulked, and he stands too straight. He never could sufficiently cramp himself.”

“Our client too is tall and well formed, once he is rid of the Jester shadow,” Astolfo said. “But when he puts the shadow on again, the physic of the clown replaces his own.”

“And then his dog, Mars, goes quiet,” I said. “It loves its master as crambo Bennio and distrusts him as an ordinary man.”

“We shall visit the town together,” Astolfo said. “The citizens are in a liberal frame of mind. We shall sup lightly here at the manse and then go abroad in Feast-days costume. We shall be of the crowd.”

“We are to spy?” Mutano asked. “But who is it we are to spy upon? What do we seek?”

“I am uncertain,” Astolfo said. “It may be useful—indeed, urgent—to distinguish those of the brotherhood of true Jesters and those who are idly toying at the game.”

“The custom of the Feast encourages the appearance of counterfeit Bennios,” Mutano complained. “Ostlers, panders, smiths, nobles—anyone may don the motley and brandish the stick-puppet. They cannot all be bent upon disruption and the form of an invasion of Tardocco that you hint at.”

“But if we can learn to distinguish the genuine Jester from the holiday-maker, we shall know something,” I said. “For the guild was here beforehand and is being used by the intruders as a means to hide themselves.”

“It is possible, yet we have to act as if the greater number are innocent of any plot,” Astolfo said. “Otherwise, we shall have no point at which we can start to undo this tangle.”

We stopped talking for a moment. Birds sang in the bushes and butterflies visited them, but we were immune to the blandishments of the hour.

I sighed. “A further difficulty is in the character of Bennio. Crambo and crooked, oppugnant to every gracious advance, alert to cause mischief when any chance arises—the Jester is not a willing purveyor of truths, even if these be to his advantage.”

“And how are we to tell if one of the counterfeits has so practiced the tricks and songs and tumbling as to be as expert as any true Jester? Or if the true clown be not at the top of his form and so appeareth counterfeit?” Mutano said.

“The dog would know,” I said. “It is unlucky for us that every Bennio does not keep a dog.”

“The little white dog set up a howl because it thought we harmed its master,” Mutano said. “It conceived that we had done away with him and another had taken his place.”

“Maybe when Mars saw his Bennio in his actual state, the dog knew him to be unprotected and open to harm. Your actual Jester is a slight man, racked with ague, fit for no other occupation. He has made himself a Bennio as armor against the cruelties of the world. He is like those serpents which puff up and hiss fiercely. Even though they lack venom and are harmless, they keep attackers at bay.”

“Are there any other creatures besides their dogs and the Jesters themselves able to detect impostors?” Mutano asked.

“Let us rest and consider and meet an hour from now in the kitchen,” Astolfo said. “We shall go on the town when the last streak of sunset has darkened.”

*   *   *

My costume was in the old fashion of the domino. I located it in an armoire in a sewing room off our hall of blue mirrors. The slippers lay in a drawer at the bottom. The hat was not so easy to find, but a small black cock hat presented itself and I jabbed a white feather into the velvet band. A mask of black silk completed my outfitting.

Mutano had desired, he said, to dress as a harlequin, the better to fit into the crowd and observe, but finding the size too small for him, had dressed in the coarse linen trousers and gray smock of a tradesman. He hailed me: “Stout pewter mugs for two coppers each, my friend. As warm a bargain as you'll find these Feast days. Come buy my spoons and vessels!” He gave his phrases the lilt the vendors gave them, but he had no implements to offer.

“Thou'rt too honest and love-passionate a fellow to impersonate a tradesman,” I said.

“My scheme is that I shall be taken for a noble disguising himself in the garb of trade.”

“And too honest for a nobleman also,” I returned.

Astolfo had disdained costume and wore his ordinary doublet and trunks, the soft leather boots with the floppy tops, the broad belt with its fist-sized leopard's-head buckle. The sole unusual appurtenance was a sword in a black, silver-chased sheath. Customarily he went unarmed and I wondered as to his purpose, whether the weapon was for costumery or for defense.

“Are you expecting that someone will mistake you for a pewter-smith posing as Maestro Astolfo?” I asked.

“I have too honest a countenance to be mistaken for a shadow merchant,” the maestro said.

“Where do we post ourselves?” Mutano asked.

“There will be a throng at the Nuovoponte,” Astolfo said. “The fete-boats will be going up and down the Daia with their cargoes of merrymakers and musicians and dancing girls. There will be much to observe.”

“A happy posting for me,” he replied. “And I shall keep watch o' the dogs. I think we may learn of certain signs from them.”

Astolfo turned toward me. “In domino, you will be best posted in the large park east of Daia Plaza. There are entertainment sites spaced along the paths and carriageways. A number of guilds and brotherhoods are staging performances and tableaux, though the best of these occur on the night of the burial. Yet you will find much to observe. Many a Jester chooses these smaller places to tumble and trick, there being a closeness with their audiences.”

“A good posting for me also,” I said, “and as Mutano undertakes to keep watch o' the dogs, I shall eye closely all the cats.”

“And where do you go?” Mutano asked Astolfo.

“I aspire to gain intelligence from among the guild of bellows-menders.”

“There is no such guild,” Mutano said.

“Well, I know a certain Sbufo,” Astolfo said. “If there is no larger brotherhood, he must suffice.”

“What news can one glean from a bellows-mender?” I asked.

“Whatever news the wind bears, they are bound to hear,” he said, and this weak jest sent us on our separate ways.

*   *   *

Mutano mounted his Defender to journey to the bridge and Astolfo ordered his little roan brought round, but I chose shank's mare, thinking I might gain an impression of how the Feast was changing the complexion of the city. I had already felt a certain lack of gaiety and sprightliness in the common chat and prattle. The festivities were not impaired, yet they seemed none so joyous as formerly, none so carefree. Perhaps I might confirm or correct these piecemeal impressions with a walkabout.

My destination was Tasconi Park, a large area just below the upper crescent of the city. Here the servants of the wealthy houses were wont to take the air during their infrequent leisure hours—the valets and scullery maids, the grooms and footmen and handiworkers, the o'erdignified butlers and o'erfed cooks and bribable provisioners, the nursemaids and gardeners. Of this latter group there were many, for in these precincts stood the houses and grounds where many members of the Green Knights and Verdant Ladies Society inhabited. The men, women, and youths who labored in the great houses were always spilling over with gossip. Much of their store was mere fancy and much that contained some grain of truth was discolored by envy, jealousy, and the other adulterations that attend petty strife. These servants brought children to the park, their own progeny and those of their masters.

The children were of strong interest to me. Mutano's speculation that the Jesters' dogs might be useful in distinguishing those Jesters inherently called to their craft from the pretenders to it had intrigued me, though I thought that observation of the dogs would be of limited use. Not all the Bennios owned dogs and the other dogs about would have little interest in the clowns except as company to romp with when they were allowed.

The children were most closely attentive to the Jesters, choosing some as favorites and following their antics wide-eyed while showing less interest in others. One set of Jesters brought forth a particular reaction. These the children watched with fascination, giggling nervously at their pranks; there seemed a kind of fearfulness in the way they watched them. When a Bennio sang out a rhyme in his fleering cackle, the girls would hide their faces in the folds of their nursemaids' skirts.