Will Sparrow's Road (6 page)

O woe and lackaday, he lamented—when would he be too tall for taunts and teasing? How could he make himself
grow?
He walked on, kicking at the dusty path and anything that got in his way.

"Oddities and prodigies of all sorts here are seen! Strange things from nature!”

The caller, standing before a painted canvas booth, was a small boy. Smaller even than Will. But an oddly shaped boy, with short arms and legs and a massive head. Will went closer for a better look. The boy proved no boy at all but a man, wrinkled and bearded, with a nose like a turnip and great bushy eyebrows as yellow as his hair. Never had Will seen such a strange man. Or was he no man at all but instead a troll or an evil dwarf such as were used in tales to frighten children?

The man had a back wide and strong stuffed into a tattered brown doublet and thick and powerful legs in trunk hose of scarlet that bagged at the knees. "Behold true wonders and marvels for only a penny,” he called in a voice both thin and rough. "One single penny.”

Will stood and watched. Those coming and going into the canvas booth did not seem afeared of the little man. They stared at him, taunted him, mocked and generally bedeviled him, and while his face turned dark with anger, he said nothing and did nothing to lead Will to believe he was dangerous. Will went closer.

Finally the man addressed Will. "You, boy, there, come see the prodigies. Only a penny.”

Will stared. "In sooth you must be the smallest, ugliest person in the world.”

"And you, young sirrah, would be the rudest,” the little man said. "Wish you to see the wonder room? Enter, if you have the coin and the courage.” And then he shouted to others standing about, "Come and see the wonder room! Only one penny.” Two gentlemen in fine doublets so padded and stuffed that they moved only with difficulty paid their pennies and then, escorting a woman between them, entered the booth.

Will was curious to discover just what oddities and prodigies and objects of wonder were. "I would enter, but I have but a ha'penny left,” he said.

The little man frowned. "Ha'penny perhaps for a one-eyed man to enter. A penny for such as yourself with two.”

Will turned away. There be other ways in besides a front gate, he knew. He dawdled near the entrance until he saw the three previous visitors hurry out, the woman with faltering steps and a handkerchief held to her nose. He skittered behind her skirts and in, as easy as eating beef pie.

Will was alone in a space a bit larger than a sleeping chamber at the inn, comfortable for perhaps ten people, if the women's skirts were not too wide. The booth was open to the midday sky, but clouds kept it dim and Will had to squint to see through the gloom. All was silence within, and there was a foul smell of things wretched and dead. From one wall hung an assortment of stuffed animals, preserved fish, antlers, and turtle shells. On the other side stood a long, rough sort of table, on which various bottles, bones, and specimens were arranged.

He lifted crocks of mysterious liquids, examined bones and teeth, and wondered at the origin of a massive skull. Some of the objects were accompanied by labels. Having had a year of dame school before a rude word and a lost hornbook drove him out, Will could read when necessary, so, slowly and without comprehending all the words, he was able to identify those.

There was the skeleton of an infant sea monster, taken alive, it was said, from waters near Africa. All eyeless skull and sharp little teeth, tiny wings, and a lizard-like tail. A true sea monster? In sooth? Will was astounded. According to the label, the infant, with an evil temper but a sweet and melodious voice, died shortly after capture.

Next to it was the skull of a unicorn. Although he had heard many stories of the creature, he had never yet seen one. It looked a bit like a one-horned goat, he concluded, before moving on to a giant radish from Wales, a two-headed lizard, a live three-legged chicken, and the head of a one-eyed pig in a glass vessel. Its eye appeared to follow Will as he walked about the booth, and he shivered.

In a large, two-handled glass flask at the very end of the table floated a small creature, all bone but for a fishy tail and hair the color of sea grass that flowed and fluttered about. A baby mermaid, said the tag, captured off the coast of Ireland and now pickled like a cow-cumber in brine. Will shook his head in amazement. This truly was a wonder room—sea monsters and unicorns and mermaids. He had never thought to behold such things in his life.

All agog, he proceeded to a small raised platform at the front of the booth. Someone sat there. As he approached, the person turned to look at him. Will froze. It was the monster, and it bellowed at the sight of him!

Heart pounding, he ran from the booth and through the fair. He did not stop running until a stitch in his side forced him to the ground, where he lay panting in the grass near a cap maker's stall.

It was truly a monster, and no dream at all, just as he had told the conjurer. What was it doing at the fair? Was he in danger? Or was—

Suddenly the air was filled with the sounds of terrible squealing and snorting, and Will was overrun by a huge, hairy thing. Bodikins! The monster had followed him! He struggled to get up, but the thing, snuffling and grunting, held him to the ground. He pounded and punched at it.

"Duchess! Leave it, Duchess! Sit, Duchess!” someone shouted loudly, and it must have been very loud, Will thought later, to be heard over the beast's snarling and his own angry cries.

The beast ceased assaulting Will long enough for him to roll away and stand up, his back against the stall. It grunted at him again. And snorted. And oinked.

Oinked?

Will blinked. A pig. This beast was a pig, a big, longlegged, bristle-backed, ginger-haired, two-tusked pig with what Will would swear was a smile on its snout. "Whose pig is this? Call her off!” Will cried.

A round, red-faced man puffed up to them, still crying, "Sit, Duchess, sit.”

The pig, at last, sat.

"Pah, boy, be not afeared of this impolite porker,” the man said, gasping from his run. "She was merely searching your clothing for aught to eat. 'Tis part of our act.”

"If I had aught to eat, I would have eaten it,” said Will. He stood up straighter and added, "And I was ne'er afeared.”

"Nay, certes not.” The man flopped down next to the pig and began to scratch her ears. "This is the duchess, the Porcine Duchess, the world's smartest pig. She plays games with cards, counts, and tells you the hour of the day, to the wonder of folk everywhere. And I am teaching her to speak French.” The man poked the pig in her bristly rear, whereupon the animal squeaked, "Whee, whee,” and the man laughed and hugged her tightly around her neck.

Will looked blankly at the man and the pig.

"Whee,” the man said. "Like
oui,
French, you know? 'Tis a jest.”

Will shook his head.

"No matter,” said the man with a great gust of ale-scented breath. He threw his arms around the pig's neck and began to croon, searching for the right notes, "In Scarlet Town, where I was born, there was a fair maid dwellin'...”

Will frowned at the caterwauling and turned to leave.

The tuneless singing stopped. "Nay, young sir, do not go,” said the man as he pulled at Will's breeches. "Come sit and speak with the Duchess. A fine specimen of porkhood she is, intelligent and noble. Why, one hour with the Duchess and you will come to prize pigs as I do. Trust me.”

Trust him? Will trusted no one—not the mother who had left him, the father who had sold him, the innkeeper who had bought him. He did not trust the tooth puller or Nell Liftpurse, and he had been proved right. He did not trust Tobias of Froggenhall, although the man called him partner; Master Froggenhall was, after all, in the business of trickery. He was not going to trust this strange, ale-sodden man who preferred pigs to people.

The man pulled apples from a pocket, one of which he tossed at the Duchess and another to Will.

An apple? "What want you for this?” Will asked as he caught it.

"Want? Nay, nothing. 'Tis for you.”

Will examined the apple and the man. Could it be there was no trick behind this, no price to be paid? Such was not his experience, but the apple was firm and smelled tart and sweet, so while the Duchess crunched and snorted through her apple, Will finally bit into his. He nodded his thanks to the man, who winked.

A pair of butterflies fluttered past Will's face and away. The Duchess rose to her feet and capered after the butterflies, her ears twitching and tail twirling.

Will watched her for a moment and laughed, only a small bark of a laugh but it astonished him, for he could not remember when last he had laughed.

GOBSMACKED BY
A PIG AND A MONSTER

D
AY TURNED
into dark, and Will found shelter beneath a tree in the heart of the fair, where he slept the night away. He surprised himself by dreaming not of monsters but of butterflies and woke in the morning somewhat lighter in spirit and very hungry. The sky was bright, and birds tweeted enthusiastically. He found it hard to believe in monsters on such a day.

A baker, putting out trays of warm bread, called "Good morrow” to the boy, who stumbled, putting a hand on the baker's stall to steady himself.

"A pox on you, clumsy boy,” said the baker. "Have a care for my stall.”

Will nodded his head in apology and hurried away, one loaf tucked carefully beneath his shirt. He strode off between the stalls, chewing and calling to those visitors come early, "Gentle folk, see spectacles of conjury that will amaze and astound you! At the old yew near the cheesemonger. At the stroke of high noon.” Now and then he looked over his shoulder for any monstrous entities or angry bakers but, seeing neither, continued on his way. "The marvelous and astonishing Tobias of Froggenhall will leave you gasping in wonderment. Noonday, at the old yew tree!”

Noon found him at the yew with Master Froggenhall and a crowd of folk prepared to be astonished. Will aided the conjurer with his tricks and passed the hat at the end.

He emptied the coins from his cap into the man's hand. The conjurer narrowed his eyes. Will reluctantly added several more coins. The conjurer raised one eyebrow, and another coin clinked into his hand. Satisfied at last that he was not being cheated, Master Froggenhall returned two pennies to Will, who now had four pence, having already knotted tuppence into the hem of his shirt.

Will inspected the stalls, stopping now and then to pick thorns and thistles from his bare feet. Boots. He needed boots, or shoes, but, alas, his few pennies would not provide them. He did buy a small leather purse to tie to his breeches and keep safe his newly acquired riches. Then his thoughts turned to food.

With pence in his purse, he decided not to risk nipping anything more. He sniffed a little and thought a lot and finally bought a currant cake, a hunk of strong yellow cheese, and the smallest mug of watery small beer. While he ate, he examined the toy stall: the drums, dolls and popguns, hobbyhorses and kites. He rued being too old for a childish hobbyhorse, for he might otherwise imagine himself a great warrior, riding his noble steed against the wicked Irish.

He was still gawking when familiar oinking and grunting announced the man with the pig. The pig must have been bathed and powdered, Will thought, for she smelled like new grass and lavender. She whirled her tail when she saw him.

"The Duchess be right pleased to see you, young sir,” the man said, and the pig's tail went round and round.

Will finished his feast, belched in contentment, and, curious, followed the man and the pig to the edge of the fair.

"Good sirs and ladies,” the man called to a gathering crowd as he climbed up on a tree stump, "I be Samuel Knobby.” He touched his cap in salutation. "Knobby is my name, not my nature. For that I would be Samuel Plump. Or Samuel Lardy.” He laughed, and an ale-scented breeze stirred Will's hair. "Behold the Porcine Duchess, the world's smartest pig. She will awe, amaze, and astonish you. Come closer.”

When enough folk had gathered, he climbed down and laid out a line of playing cards. Pointing to a girl with dark ringlets, he said, "You, little mistress, name a card.”

The girl looked up at a nearby woman, who nodded permission. "The king of hearts,” the girl said.

"Certes, the king of hearts!” repeated Samuel Knobby, and he turned to the Duchess. "Duchess, find the king of hearts for the wee damsel.” The pig walked back and forth along the row of cards. Samuel Knobby sneezed—
ka-choo!
The Duchess stopped and pawed at a card. Everyone craned to see it. The king of hearts! Will was astounded.

Then, using the cards, the Duchess added numbers and successfully spelled out a merchant's name. She was rewarded with apple slices, which she ate greedily. Will allowed that the Duchess was right smart for a pig. Samuel, however, was likely coming down with an ague, for he sniffed and sneezed—ka-choo!—and coughed throughout the Duchess's exhibition.

"Finally,” Samuel Knobby said to his awestruck audience, "the Duchess will perform a feat never before accomplished by a swine. Earlier I gave a penny to a young gentleman afore me here. The coin since has been passed from person to person until it has come to rest in someone's purse. I do not know which person or which purse, but the Duchess will find it.” He patted the pig's head and gave her tail a friendly tweak. "Now go, Duchess, find the coin.”

Huffing and snorting, the Duchess pushed her way into the crowd. She trudged around and through, grunting and snuffling at people's clothing, until she stopped before a lad in a blue apprentice cap. She snorted once more and then began to nose at the purse at his waist. The boy, laughing, opened his purse and produced the coin.

There were then a great many
oohs
and
heigh-hos
and
huzzas.
Samuel passed his cap around, and Will could hear the coins clinking into it.

When the crowd had moved on to other delights, Will followed the man and the pig to a nearby ale seller. "Master Knobby, I am gobsmacked,” Will said. "I misdoubt the Duchess, no matter how smart for a pig, can truly read and spell and do sums. How did you make it seem so?”