Ch: 4.5

He was in a pub, doing an entire Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra homage for dinner and three copper bits. A pittance to be sure, but Gary planned to make it up at dinner, he was still hungry enough to eat wet leather.

 

When Liam sidled up to his tiny corner stage, Gary took a break, waving at the barman and giving the audience some smooth patter.

 

“Back in five folks, tip your waitress, try the pear cider and welcome to Wyeth’s pub where if you can say the name, keep drinking!” Liam was waiting in the alley (cleanest ever!) when Gary came out.

 

“Otho and Amicus will be by in the morning, they have some information for you.” His brow furrowed, “Otho requested that I come too, so there will be the three of us and an acolyte from Healer.” Gary’s heart sank, seeing doom on the horizon.

 

“Sadhu Patel is well respected and a man of discretion Gary, he will keep any secret that does not involve public safety, that is the law.” Liam said, seeing his reaction. “Acolyte Tawny was disappointed, but her duties call her elsewhere tomorrow.”

 

A fine bramble was being laid, entangling him in this crazy town. He wondered if the evil seed of meddling that had been planted in his soul by Liam and Aisha’s cluelessness, was going to bear bitter fruit for his own vintage.

 

He shook off his ominous feeling and promised to be ready, bright and early. He was in for a busy day tomorrow and a festival the next. Gary was certain he would get roped into at least one bit of high spirits from the two old reprobates.

 

“Tell you what Liam, Let them know I will be staying at the orphanage, see you there tonight.” He said at last

 

Liam looked suspicious. “Are you up to something?”

 

Gary smiled innocently. “I am a skittish stray taking his first tentative steps toward domestication, don't scare me off Liam.” He used a plaintive tone designed to annoy and amuse in equal parts. A tremulous run of minor chords swelled hopefully from his mandolin while he abused Liam's patience.

 

“Good, because Liam’s messenger service is closed. You have me running all over town” The young man rolled his dark, almond shaped eyes with elaborate care, while smirking.

 

Gary scoffed and strummed saucily at his new friend “I’ve been in town less than three days Liam, I already know that you run all over town anyway. Fitness is all fine and good man, but stop and smell the roses.”

 

He spun dramatically from a confused Liam and strolled back inside intoning portentous words; “Gather ye rosebuds, while ye may…”

 

He finished his set, ate enough to make the tavern keeper just a little upset, and headed home strumming and singing nonsense rhymes to the owls. As he neared home he turned ‘imreallyinteresting’ to maximum, made paper lanterns illuminate the front yard and strolled in the front door waving to the few late night diehards.

 

 He should have known, in a town this size and this steeped in gossip and rumor, he would never be able to stay low key.

 

Time to burn bright and let them watch. It was a very free feeling, liberating and terrifying. Like playing live, he supposed. But now, if he was strong enough, he could make his life the performance, and step out of the shadows.

 

He remembered that feeling, mom, dad and grandpa playing while he sang and danced, learning to play. Being fully alive and present in the moment. Getting skilled enough to back mom when she sang, those were the days when he went out in the light without fear.

 

His clearing at the edge of the managed forest was quiet, but the commute to town was wasteful. “Time to get my back up off the wall.” He told the curious strollers while his house dissolved into mist.

 

Back at the orphanage, his rug had been delivered but the bed was not as comfy as his own. That was a recent development anyway, he could sleep on a lumpy mattress for a night or two…

 

Bathing was a serious comedown when he staggered out of bed. Plumbing existed, and was not too different from what he was familiar with, but the water was not hot enough and no hot spring pool, so primitive. 

 

Gary had slipped into his room unnoticed, so that he could get settled and make any adjustments he could. It was not going well.

 

He had thought maybe he could get his house to mojo its way into his room, that would have been ideal. No way, there was a hard limit on size and he was not going to win this one.

 

He hung his clothes in the closet, changed into his workaday clothes and went down to see about the breakfast Liam had mentioned in his ‘Intro To Orphanage’ lecture.

The dining hall was vast, with chairs and tables clustered on one side, leaving most of it echoing and shadowed. The populated zone was a lively bustle.

 

First bell was still softly dying away and the place was jumping. Kids of all ages and descriptions were forming up while the blonde girl from the courtyard silently scolded them.

 

Gary slipped into line and tried to act like he belonged, using his gift to dial in just the right amount of ‘he’s familiar’ and ‘who, where?’ The result was a heady little perfume he was calling ‘ibelonghere’ in his head. He laughed in all the right places at all the inside jokes, while trying to read the social cues around him.

 

He was starting to feel like a voyeur when Liam showed up looking all ‘Romantic Lead in a Korean Drama’, towel draped over his shoulders, just in from running.

 

He spotted Gary almost instantly, shattering his delicate illusion with a shout and wave from across the room. As ‘ibelonghere’ faded under Liam’s loud greeting, all heads turned. A kid in the corner scooted his chair at just the right moment to make a record scratch sound that Gary knew in his heart was the universe mocking him and his plans.

 

He had bounced to and fro in the foster system for a while after that first one, he knew the drill. “Hi, I'm Gary Ward, I’m new, I hope you guys will show me the ropes.”

 

It might have gone over better if he did not have a biscuit shoved in his mouth and a tray piled with a heap of steaming eggs and potatoes in one hand and a mug of tea in the other.

 

 In an attempt to take back the initiative he got sassy. “I would like to thank Liam for this opportunity to meet you all while I have crumbs all over my face and simultaneously being absolutely ravenous.”

 

He swept a carefully mocking bow to Liam, only spilling a little tea. Gary’s smug smile lasted just long enough for a damp cloth to fly out of the crowd and moistly splat across his face.

 

From the crowd came a swelling call; “You spill, you clean… you spill, you clean…” They chanted eerily, in a disturbing cadence, even Liam’s face going slack as he joined the chorus.

 

Gary set his burdens down, collected the rag and began furiously wiping up the small green pool. Suddenly acutely nervous and frantic, he mopped up the spilled tea.

 

All around giggles and laughter started, as the chant fell apart. The oldest girl with the button nose and blonde pixie bob was standing over him laughing along in a way that Gary found more than a little intoxicating. 

‘Why is almost everyone hot in this town?’ He wondered.

 

 She was about his age or maybe a year younger, but had a confidence in her walk and voice that demanded respect, running the kids with a firm hand. “Fun’s over! Braan, great timing on that chair. Talia, good chant work, really creepy everyone!” 

Turning to Gary she smiled radiantly. “It's a tradition, we do it to every visitor and to new kids once they can handle it.” Addressing the whole room again she called “New acolytes of Joy are coming to town today, they might visit, stay on your toes, watch for the signal. Becky, show Gary how it's done, no mercy!” 

The crowd echoed back; “No Mercy!” in a very disturbing way.

 

Becky was about twelve, dusky skinned and precocious; she relished the idea of instructing Gary in their venerable rites. 

“This is a tradition from almost three hundred years ago, an unbroken trust from the founder through to us. When you see a stranger in the compound, get ready, wait for the chant to start and then go for it, remember culty creepy, not child-like singsong. This is our way, learn it or the founder will punish you.”

 

Gary sighed deeply, “It's Otho right? He started this when he was here?” Her grin answered for her. “Instructions received, sergeant Becky!” He barked, saluting her in the way Benny Hill did in grandpa’s old dvds, smacking himself audibly. They ate in companionable silence after that.

 

She was watching, wide eyed when he looked up from the tray. “I’m hungry,” He whined. “This is good and I had a really busy week so far.”

 

“That was kinda scary, I thought you might dig through the table and eat your own leg.” Becky looked behind him and scampered off with a smile, “See ya, Gary”.

 

The pixie bob and Liam slid in and pincered him between them. Liam started.

 “Gary, this is Ivy Rhodes, Ivy, Gary Ward.” Liam shifted subtly, putting Gary in the hot seat. “She is my right hand, don't give her trouble. She is a student at the college and will be your superior there and here. Any questions?” 

 

“Uhh… yeah, what happened to chill Liam from yesterday?” Gary never saw the slap to the back of the head coming, it was the kind of comradely pimp slap that a close friend might lay on you, Ivy was taking the reins early. 

 

“We never get older kids, so we are giving you the same rules we gave them, Fair Play in the Orphanage is our law.” Sensing Otho was the Dr Moreau of his little island, he nodded.

 

Gary had decided for once in his life, to settle down and accept the halter. Bit and bridle were another matter and he had a close watch out for anyone holding a saddle.

 

“Jennah” He whispered, feeling like a goose had just walked over his grave. 

 

“Jennah? She did mention coming by to deliver some things to you. She is very good! And her sister Trelawney…” And there it was.

 

The moment he let Jennah get her delicate threads wrapped around him, the net she was weaving had begun to close in. 

Gary felt his new bro clap him on the shoulder, “Step carefully Gary, there are predators in these streets.” He whispered.

 

Now was his chance, feeling giddy and guilty at the same time Gary realized this was a golden opportunity to betray Liam’s trust for fun and profit. “Liam, you gotta help me, I got bullied into escorting Trelawney to the festival tomorrow, be my wingman bro, third wheel me!”

 

Liam took a minute to consider. “So, you want me to come along and make sure you don’t screw up and get yourself murdered by Jennah?” 

Gary nodded emphatically “Or married off like a prize bull led to market, yeah, that.”

 

Liam nodded sagely, “As your guardian’s agent I can be there in my official capacity… like I do for the babies.”

 

Liam’s evil grin made the guilt fade away. “Thanks Liam, you will not regret this.” 

‘Ohh, Liam, you will regret this.’ Gary thought with a grin of his own. “Hey, while I have you here, is there a place on the campus where I can set my house up?”

 

 Liam started. “Absolutely not, your crazy house with the poison hedges is not getting anywhere near my kids.”

 

“Ouch Liam. I’m sure all these kids can do weird stuff too. You are buzzing with magic all the time and Ivy has an aura gift like mine or I’ll eat my boots.”

 

Liam looked sad and a little faraway. “Yes I do and yes she does, but we are the only ones. I have one Contract, Ivy has two, none of the others do.” 

“Why?”asked Gary.

 

“I was Contracted to War when I was five, my parents died shortly after in a monster attack, so I came here. Ivy’s story is her own, but similar in one way, we were both Contracted at the earliest age the law allows.” 

Gary nodded as Liam went on. “The Adventurer’s guild orphanage operates on a charter from the old law. No child under fifteen can Contract with gods or spirits. Even though the Adventurer's Guild is all but gone, the law still binds the gods.”

 

Gary scratched his head as some of the gaps filled in. “So you don't have gifts like mine?” 

 

Liam was nonplussed. “No one does at your rank, our rank. Gifts grow over time becoming more potent and overtly magical with each Contract and rank. I’m really quick, but that’s all until I complete my Contracts, gods willing.”

 

“So what about item Contracts like mine?” Gary asked, Liam shook his head. 

“Contract items are so rare that you might never meet a person with one in the rest of your life. Otho says that once, people could make them and they were as almost as common as Contracts with gods. though that was a thousand years ago.”

 

Gary opened his yap to ask more questions and was forestalled by a raised palm. “Otho and the others will be in the atrium soon, we should go there and wait.” He raised an eyebrow. “Respectfully.”

 

Gary nodded meekly, ‘Tomorrow…’ He thought. ‘The tables get turned, then I watch you sweat.’

 

The guy from healer was just a little pudgy, but had a glow of vigor about him that made Gary feel self conscious. His hair was straight and dark and his manner was kind and patient, even with the restive and fractious musician.

 

In a private meeting room on the first floor, Gary was sidestepping around a sofa keeping it between himself and the physician priest.

 

“Master Ward you must disrobe for the intake examination. It is the law and tradition.” The priest soothed, Gary had never been compliant before and it was a difficult trick to learn.

 

“Ok, but in my mind I’m streaking you guys right now.” He grumbled, faltering under Otho’s stern regard.

 

The exam was perfunctory and as Z had promised, revealed no clue that he was anything more or less than an ordinary human with one item Contract.

 

Thankfully, his new body had left the twisted leg and spine behind, with the cigar burns and scars his time in foster had left him with. Explaining those would have been tough.

 

As it was, the priest learned only what he needed, signed off and Gary was now officially in the care of the Adventurer’s guild. Whatever that meant.

 

After the priest left, the men passed a now clothed Gary’s, finished instruments around and talked about them in ways he failed to grasp.

 

Otho asked permission and played a while on each, finding the guitar familiar, but the mandolin entirely new. Both instruments were in familiar formats and tunings, but the double courses of the mandolin sent Otho into shivers of delight. 

Glancing over, Gary realized that Amicus and Liam were left hanging while they got super geeky, just as he and Liam had been at the last meeting.

 

A little while later, they retired to the courtyard. Otho was on mandolin, faking it while Gary played lead, they had a grand time teaching the orphans rude verses about the mayor’s brother.

 

It seemed He was embroiled in a minor corruption scandal, but more importantly had lobbied hard against Otho’s sculpture garden plan, which still irked the old guy.

 

When Gary had asked Otho about a place in town he had immediately offered a space in his… private sculpture garden.

 

“…and when the sculptor delivered the first statue, I knew I absolutely had to complete the work, In Her Name.” With a gesture of benediction and a skyward glance of humble obedience.

 

“Hard pass Otho,” Gary said “I'm not setting my house up in your graveyard of wrinkled balls… huh, there's a song in there.”

 

Mildly put out, Otho felt a need to explain. “Since I established my garden, the city council pays the maintenance of this facility and its budget appropriations without complaint, and my garden remains private.”

 

Gary was stunned. “How long have you been blackmailing the city government?”

 

“Blackmail is an ugly word Gary, I am a solemn keeper of this city’s treasured history and lore. Not some peeping loon with a sketchpad and no trousers.” He pronounced archly.

 

“Three hundred and seventeen years.” Liam chimed in. “Ivy checked the records, he tries to make it a public garden every decade or so.”

 

“So for more than three hundred years every new member of the city government gets an embarrassing statue made? And they pose for them?” Gary asked, even more lost.

 

Amicus piped up, “Liam my boy, Otho wanted to check in on Gary’s room while I talk with Gary here, show him the way.” After the two were very obviously shooed away, Amicus settled across from Gary.

 

“I’m sure you have heard about the college on the streets, our reputation for oddities and eccentricities.” The wizened old mage said affably.

 

Gary nodded and the old geezer went on happily. “The temple of Joy has a similar reputation. Beloved above all other clergy, the Joyous are welcome in every town by all the people. They bring prosperity, hope and life wherever they go.”

 

Gary nodded again. “They bring Chaos Gary, they discomfit the comfortable, drain the coffers of moneylenders and buoy the spirits of the destitute leaving purveyors of flesh without their natural prey.” Amicus was smiling widely and rocking back and forth on his chair in glee.

 

Gary finally got it. “Is that why Otho is all alone in his temple? And why the people are all talking about his new acolytes.”

 

Amicus nodded, “When Zygnos died, I lost his proxy on the council, leaving Otho exposed. The mayor's brother had been bribing an official in the capital to divert new acolytes from Wheatford for years, trying to weaken Otho’s hold on the peoples hearts.”

 

Gary was still following along, as Amicus continued. “Otho composed a verse on corruption aimed at the official and when it reached the capital all the wheels came off their wagon.” He looked deeply at Gary with a raised eyebrow, “Orphans are everywhere Gary, This is a hard world for children who live on the fringes. You will find that you have many brothers and sisters.”

 

“You will also find that the Joyous will discover any secret known to more than one person. Tailors, bath attendants, even personal servants may well be adherents of the Lady Joy.”

 

Gary grinned. “That old perv is a monster.”

 

“Gary, the old perv is a close friend and respected elder of his city, be cautious with your familiarity.” The old wizard held a serious mein for only a few seconds, before relaxing.

 

Gary grinned apologetically, “Point taken, his acolytes arrive today?” 

Amicus nodded. “I must go away to greet them at the Uplands gate” He said, gesturing northwest where the really fancy homes and the other city gate lay.

 

Gary had not visited that part of town yet, nor did he intend to any time soon. That district was lined with fruit and nut trees, parkways and elegant homes. Not Gary territory, he would explore that last.

 

While Otho and Amicus bustled up the road heading for the uplands, Gary went to his room. His clothes had been delivered, and better yet he had seen Jennah, on her way safely out the gate in passing. Their friendly mutual wave was reassuring.

 

Gary had watched the musicals and old movies, he expected brown paper packages tied up with string, and was rewarded for his faith, in several ways.

 

Knowing nothing of local styles, mores or weather he left himself in her hands. His only request was to ‘not be too flashy’. Three packages was a surprise though.

 

The largest one exceeded what he expected. She had set him up with plenty of pants in earth tones of wool lined with muslin, a thick oilcloth long coat, a felt vest, several shirts and assortment of things he had not thought to ask for. Like more undershorts, gloves and a winter hat of knitted wool. On the card was the name and address of a local bootmaker. 

‘Jennah, that beautiful deadly spider.’ Gary saluted her in his mind.

 

The next was marked for Liam, the next element of his plot. That one he set aside. The last was a surprise. It was a suit of traditional local clothes, he had seen things like them in Jennahs shop and on the street. It was worn in different forms for men and women more like traditional japanese or korean clothes, than western style.

 

High waisted, baggy pants, cut to look as though they were unbroken skirts for women and more trouser like pants for men. On top, loose wraparound shirts and often a vest of contrasting color. The colors and patterns boggled the mind, this was a notable local craft for which Wheatford was widely known.

 

Jennah had tried to convince him to order some for himself, but he had balked. Draping his body in elaborate silks was not really his groove.

 

It was beautiful though, ankle length rippling wave patterned green silk trousers with bronze piping at the cuffs. At the waist, a sash shading from pale indigo to deep cobalt blue would wrap sound several times. 

There was a shirt of dark blue silk in the wraparound and tie style common in town. The best of all was a long jacket of cobalt blue silk, embroidered at the shoulders with a dusting of stars in the shape of tiny bronze and brass maple leaves falling from the silken sky.

 

If Jennah saw him at the festival (She would.) wearing anything but this, he would be a dead man walking. No doubt Liam knew how to put it on and would help.

 

Liam’s door answered quickly at his knock. Gary showed the garment and explained his problem.

 

“Absolutely! That is Jennah’s work, she must like you… for her sister. Jennah is engaged to a lieutenant in War, good man.”

 

“Whoa there Liam, I got tricked into going out with one sister, what kind of idiot would try and make a play for two?” Gary asked, when he realized where Liam was headed.

 

Liam spent just a little too long pondering Gary’s face, without answering. 

 

“Hurtful Liam, really mean.” He sulked in an overly dramatic way. Gary turned away, in the best soap opera style. 

“And I came to bring you a gift!”  He gasped in mock dismay, before pressing the final package into Liam’s confused arms.

 

Gary flounced onto Liam’s bed in a far too familiar way for the highly strung young man. Politeness however, demanded that a gift received be opened and Liam was always polite.

 

Liam’s coat was almost all sleek, dull black silk, with a gleaming triangle prism of pearly white on the right breast. That subtle image spilled a short lived rainbow of almost liquid silk in every shade of the rainbow, down his right shoulder and sleeve. Jennah was worth every penny.

 

“It's exquisite, Gary, this is too much! I can’t!” the young man protested, going pale at the sight.

 

“Liam,” Gary said coldly, feeling a hint of trouble in his well laid plan… but no, he could not see any way, the scheme was perfect... 

After a pause he went on. “Liam, you are keeping that, Jennah made it, she will kill me if you don't wear it, she scares me Liam.” The note of fear in his voice was unfeigned.

 

That solved, Gary had the afternoon free. 

“Liam, you doing anything? I want to rent a vacant lot or pasture to set my house up in, either close to, or in town. When I try to make any deals they just try to marry me to the nearest unattached warm body...” 

 

Liam smiled, “I thought of that, I had Ivy draw up a letter of identity that clearly shows your status.”

 

“Thanks Liam! You and Ivy are treasures! I need to do something for her…” Gary wandered off, muttering and strumming something sweet and sad on his guitar.

 

Down in the Carpenter’s ward he had found a likely looking spot. It was a low, stoney hill currently used as goat pasture in spring and otherwise not valuable beyond a half dozen olive trees scattered widely in the pebbly soil.

 

It was right on the edge of the ward, overlooking the river.  He had a fine view where the smaller stream that cut the town in half, joined the larger waterway. 

Just far enough to be private, yet just a few yards from town. Gary’s promise not to harm the trees was enough to lease it to him until springtime for a bronze half mark and six copper bits, no questions asked.

 

His letter signed by Otho and looking official with the seal of the temple of Joy was more than enough to satisfy the old farmer, who was unlikely to be literate anyway. He dropped Amicus and Otho’s names and broadly hinted at a connection to the college. Gaslight successful, he would come back and summon his house after dark.

 

Until then he could go find those acolytes of Joy and get a peek at them. They would probably be hobnobbing with the upper crust for a while, his best bet was to stake out the temple of Joy.

 

Up in the temple quarter, Gary pulled a stool he had bought at the second hand shop, settled down and was playing to an empty courtyard with his flute. He liked the way it echoed and rang off the stones. 

The whole region was empty save for cats and pigeons. Everyone of consequence was schmoozing at the upland gate no doubt. The inconsequential would be too busy preparing for tomorrow’s festival to be out and about.

 

He heard them before he saw them of course. His flock of pigeons stopped dancing in weirdly precise formations to the tune of his flute and scattered into the sky as the crowd approached.

 

 Otho led two drummers, a man and a woman, followed by a flutist of unclear gender and a girl with a trumpet that could really blow. Behind them was a couple string players being drowned out. A man with an Irish harp and a man with something like a guitar raised by lutes. At this distance they all looked young, but marching behind Otho anyone would.

 

All in robes of plain green, they made a fine sight, marching in time, surrounded and followed by a swarm of townsfolk. Gary assumed that everyone in town who was not up to their elbows in preparation for tomorrow’s events was probably watching or involved with the procession at some point.

 

Watching the crowd, he changed his assessment. There was at least one baker in the crowd, white clumps of dough drying on his forearms as he cheered and jumped in a small dust cloud of flour.

 

It was good to see, he had yet to meet any players in town. Even though most of the taverns had at least a small stage, seldom were there any musicians playing and the few he had heard were… working really hard, that was the best description.

 

As the priests marched into the now rapidly filling square, Gary melted into the throng. He lingered on the edges, listening to Otho speechify from the steps. His voice stilled the music and slipped through the crowd like a warm wind.

 

“Blessed Joy hears our devotions and prayers, She sends these young Joyous, to lift us from darkness and dispel sorrow, rejoice for on this, the eve of our sacred festival of Dana Healer of Wounds, Her sister Joy sends these children, these celebrants to join us!” The green robed clergy slowly went inside and the crowd evaporated with little fanfare.

 

Curiosity satisfied, Gary walked in the gathering shadows to his sparse rocky hill and sat down on a boulder to summon his home. With guitar in hand he brought his home into shape.

 

With an effort of will, the front garden and main door shifted to the side. A wide glass shop window and glass paned front door appeared, complete with a brass bell over the door. In gold and bronze leaf across the upper third of the window it read;

 

Ward Instrument Co.

We Will Rock You!

New, Custom, Consignment.

 

Inside, while the shop bell was still thinking, Gary was down stairs, working furiously. His supplies of lumber and hides were going to take a hit.

 

Gary wanted to try lumberjacking anyway, curious what his gift might do if he cut his own timber. He considered that while he worked, keeping his gifts under control with care. When he finished his shop was festooned with simple instruments and toys.

 

His first project was a few whimsical rocking horses for the little ones. Those were fun, simple flights of fancy in wood and paint. A seahorse with shiny blue and green scales, a goat with a shaggy hide carved in delicately and blunt bone horns. Finally a tiny rocking chair, just like the old timers had on the porch, but in screaming red paint with yellow flames on the legs and back.

 

Those went together so easily, he dove in on something more exciting. Drums, simple cross braced hoop drums and carved tippers to beat them with. He painted bright colors on the hoops in swirling abstract patterns.

 

A brace of three ukuleles took the rest of the evening, resting in their clamps til morning. He had never felt so productive. As the night waned, he knocked out four simple recorders and got to work on his shamisen. Stringing it up and strumming it for the first time, it was nice. Not a patch on Otho’s but it was a fine instrument;

 

Shamisen, instrument, string/percussion class, Unranked, non magical, Quality, Good.

 

Satisfied, he took it upstairs and hung it in the shop before going to bed. It was deafeningly quiet, sleep finally came for him, but not before pointing out just how empty his house was.

 

Morning came early in Gary’s workshop, he hung an incomplete ukulele and a drum in the shop next to the shamisen to keep it company and headed for the orphanage to get dressed for the festival.