Secrets of the Swords, Book 1

Chapter 34: Setting the Stage

They were drawing stares, whether because of Suthe's foreign appearance or Nem Koel's shabby attire, Suthe didn't know. Probably both. Nem Koel, Suthe noticed, seemed far more confident than she herself felt, and not for the first time, Suthe wished that it was Nem Koel who was playing the part of Namija, and not her.

As they squeezed through the crowd pouring into the building, Suthe struggled to keep sight of Saer Lon, who was far ahead of both her and Nem Koel, and somehow doing a much better job of navigating the hordes of people. Suthe was so focused on not getting lost that it took her a few moments to take note of the dark-paneled hallway and hanging tapestries decorated with colorful dancing figures. The hall eventually opened up into a large room with circular tables set at intervals in front of a large stage, each table big enough to fit eight people. Above, a balcony ran along three sides of the room, its occupants in private box seats shaded by painted wooden paneling that acted as a canopy.

"Do you see Saer Lon?" Nem Koel asked, standing on her tiptoes. "There are too many people!"

Suthe lowered her gaze and searched the crowd. "There!" She pointed, just in time to see a figure in a dark robe and green cap bump into Saer Lon, bow in apology, and swiftly turn and head for a staircase going up to the balcony. Suthe would have continued watching, but the jostling of the crowd forced her to concentrate on not getting stepped on. Nem Koel grabbed her hand, and together, they somehow managed to finally reach the third member of their party, who by now had taken a seat at one of the tables near the wall and propped a foot up on the chair to her left and slung an arm over the back of the chair to her right to save the seats.

When Saer Lon saw the girls arriving, she lowered her arm and moved over to the seat she had been previously using as a footrest so that Nem Koel and Suthe could sit next to each other. As soon as Nem Koel had taken her seat, Saer Lon had leaned over and whispered in her ear, passing a piece of paper under the table.

Suthe watched silently as Nem Koel read the paper, and then leaned in when Nem Koel motioned to her.

"One of Irikri's people passed this note to her just now," Nem Koel explained in a whisper just loud enough to be heard over the susurrus of the settling crowd. "She'll send for us to meet with her when she's ready. For now, we're to enjoy the performance."

"Performance?" Suthe eyed a couple who sat down at their table, then glanced over to the stage. "How many songs will there be?"

Nem Koel shook her head slightly. "Not songs. Acts."

"Acts? As in, a play?" A group of five gentlemen in rich silk robes passed behind them, looking down at Suthe's outburst, and she ducked her head.

"Shh!" Nem Koel leaned in closer. "Don't be so impatient. Andilirish theater is different from any other performance in the region. You're in for a treat."

Suthe bit back a retort, the impatience gnawing within her manifesting as the biting of her lip. How could she enjoy the performance, she wanted to ask, if the whole time she would be worrying about what to say to this Irikri person?

She looked around again, taking some consolation in the fact that she wasn't the only foreigner there. Closer to the front of the stage, a Sylterran man was chatting with a woman in a long green dress, and two men who looked to be Crevvanese were standing at the back of the room, looking for open seats. If it was popular enough to draw foreigners, Suthe supposed, then perhaps the performance would be worth paying some attention to.

A strum of strings from behind the stage silenced the crowd, and as Suthe watched, a curvy woman with a long braid wrapped around the top of her head stepped out onto the stage, carrying a silk-stringed zither by its back. The audience applauded as she bowed, then descended the stairs at the front of the stage to take a seat in a chair that had been set up for her, along with a small slanted table for her zither. Once she was seated, she struck the strings again, and was answered with a clack from the somewhere behind the stage. This time, a man stepped out from behind the curtains, a red strap around his neck holding up the double-sided drum in the shape of an hourglass. He continued to strike the drum in a series of thrums and clacks as he made his way across the stage, coming to a stop once he had joined the woman with the zither.