[Eleanor]: 668.Amelia.Chapter XIV

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2011-08-25 21:00:18
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Amelia begged Sarah to come to the tavern that evening to hear them play. She finally agreed, although it took much coaxing and many promises of chickens cooked à la Roach. The two women wrapped themselves in their cloaks against the night chill and walked through the dark streets to Martha and Gareth’s. It was still early when they arrived, and Victor was warming up on his flute.

“Look who’s here!” he shouted in surprise when he saw them. “It’s Jason’s Aunt Sarah! I never thought I’d see you in a tavern. How did you convince her to come?” he asked Amelia.

“It wasn’t hard,” answered the singer. “I just had to promise to cook my special chicken every night for the next week.” 

Sarah smiled warmly and said, “I have never heard my nephew play before. Amelia reminded me that life is too short to pass up these opportunities.

“I said that?” wondered Amelia.

“No,” said Sarah, “I said it, but it applies to you as well.” She smiled mysteriously.

The tavern started filling up then and Amelia left Sarah chatting with Martha so she could warm up her fingers and voice before they went on stage. She knew that her friends from the manor house would be there, and she was anxious to show them that she had made the right decision to leave the kitchen. She noticed Frederick had strung his new harp with fresh strings and was tuning them. His blindness was clearly no handicap when it came to his musical abilities.

When Jason gave the signal, the musicians mounted the stage and faced their audience. The tavern was packed and Amelia saw her friends from the kitchen sitting on their usual table, tankards in hand. She waved at them with a grin and then they were into their first tune, Mary’s Wedding. For one song after another, Amelia was in her glory. In some she sang the melody, in others she wove a harmony around Frederick’s baritone, and her fingers were busy improvising counterpoints and chording accompaniments. After they played their last encore, she nearly collapsed from exhaustion. Her friends crowded around her, generous with hugs and congratulations. Sarah Pyms beamed, and Martha brought the tired musicians hot spiced cider in large earthenware mugs. 

The musicians packed away their instruments and Amelia lovingly wrapped her harp in a soft cloth and then put it in the bag her grandmother had embroidered with her name. She ran her fingers over the stitching and remembered the day her grandmother had given it to her. Thank you, Nana, she thought, thank you. She quickly hugged each of the other musicians in turn, threw on her cloak and then joined Sarah for the walk back to the candle shop.

The next morning the musicians were meeting again, this time to rehearse and go over their set lists for the following week’s harvest festival performances. A stage was set up in the main village square, and throughout the week various performers would be on it, including jugglers, acrobats and a troupe of thespians. Farmers from the surrounding countryside brought the bounty of their fields and artisans of all kinds set up tables and booths selling the products of their labours. Potters, basket weavers, purveyors of fine cloth, jewelry makers, furniture craftsmen and musical instrument makers all vied for customers in the large square. Amelia had not yet been to one of these festivals, and she was excited to be performing at it, as well as looking forward to wandering among the tables and examining the items for sale. 

Jason’s troupe was scheduled to play four times, once on each day of the fair. They had a special spot of honour in the closing concert, and Jason was determined that they should be at their best and collect a surfeit of coins when they sent their agents through the crowd carrying hats. Amelia found herself rehearsing as she never had before, and loving every moment. Her fingertips were starting to toughen up properly now that she didn’t have them in dishwater every day, and her nails were no longer ragged, nor her hands rough. Thanks to the lessons she had had with Lorenzo, her voice was stronger, projected better, and could call upon many shades of expression. She and Frederick took time to work out harmonies and counterpoints, and she found she loved singing with him and the sound their voices made together. 

When they got up on the stage to give their first performance at the fair, the crowd was sparse; but as the week progressed, there were more and more people in the audience until the square was fairly packed for the closing show. Their reputation had spread by word of mouth, and the hats came back to them filled with bright coins. Jason was extremely pleased. “We shan’t starve, my merry men!” he laughed, as he poured the money through his fingers.

As they were packing away their gear, Frederick brought up the subject that was on Amelia’s mind. “So, lads, what do you say to having Amelia in our band full-time?” he asked. Victor and Conrad looked at each other, then looked at the heap of coins in front of Jason, and said as one, “Yes!” Alex agreed, “I wondered when you were going to suggest that.” Jason beamed and said, “I think you’ve earned your spot here, Amelia, if that’s really what you want. Not every concert is going to make us rich, you know.”

“It’s exactly what I want, Jason,” she replied happily. “I promise I will not disappoint you.”

In the morning, Amelia gathered together her few belongings and stuffed them in her satchel, much as she had when she left her village so long ago. She had sewn herself a second case for her harp out of stout canvas with a strap that she could sling over her shoulder, leaving her arms free, and she did so now. Then she hugged and kissed Sarah goodbye, thanking her for everything. There were tears in the candle merchant’s eyes as she bade her guest farewell and she made her promise that she would write and visit. Amelia swore she would, then ran off to the tavern where the rest of the troupe was assembling their gear. They had engaged a coach to take them to their next venue, a village one day’s journey hence. Amelia helped pack her small bundle with the others, making sure that her harp was secured and wouldn’t get bumped during the ride. They climbed into the carriage, and she squeezed in beside Frederick and he grasped her hand, pressing it tightly. 

The carriage pulled away from the tavern, Martha and Gareth waving goodbye, and headed out to the high road. It occurred to Amelia that this was the second time she was leaving a place she called home, only this time it was in the company of friends instead of a lonely flight from unhappiness. When they were well away from the village, Frederick said softly to her, “Now is as good a time as ever, my dear.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “Do I have to?” He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“I, um,” began Amelia timidly, “since I’m one of you now, you should see this.”

Alex looked up at the sound of her voice and saw her undoing the ties of her mask. “We really don’t need to see what’s under there, do we?” he asked.

“Yes, I think you do,” said Amelia, and pulled the hood off of her head. 

Her revelation was met with utter silence and dropped jaws. Victor was the first to speak, “Holy fur of the great bear!” he swore. “I thought you were a troll under there,” said Conrad. Alex’s eyes narrowed and he grinned. Frederick whispered in her ear, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Jason said, “I think we just tripled our take. Talent and beauty! If I had known you looked like that, I would never have hesitated.”

“I know,” answered Amelia. “I wouldn’t have joined you if all you wanted was a pretty face. You had to want me for my music, even if I looked like a troll.” She smiled at Jason. “You passed.”

“Okay, enough excitement already,” yawned Conrad. “We have plenty of time to talk about this later. Now I want to sleep. Good night.” He pulled his hat down over his face and promptly started snoring. The rest of the men soon followed suit. Amelia stared out the window at the passing countryside and hoped she was doing the right thing.


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