Visions of Power Read online

  The dark-haired ballerina was the newest and youngest of the three dancers, and the least trained. She didn’t yet publicly perform any of the dramatic dances or gymnastics, but she seemed to master some new trick every month; Alec often stole away to watch her move through her practice motions. Alec knew she was approachable; he’d seen many others walk up to her and start conversations that made her lips smile and her eyes sparkle. But he could never get the nerve to do more than say hello or make small talk as they passed in their daily duties. The smiles he earned for those friendly efforts were high reward for him.

  Natalie seemed to sense she was being watched, and her eyes surveyed the camp, catching Alec guiltily frozen. For a second they looked at one another, and then the shy boy turned in confusion and looked for a place to sit. He found an open space near the other common workers, and sat quietly eating, eyes focused down on his food, before he turned in for another night’s sleep under Ari’s wagon.

  The next morning, camp chatter told Alec that the other drivers and workers heard the carnival owner, Richard, say they’d be able to see the mountains before nightfall, and maybe even be able to reach the foothills in a day or two if they made good time. Spirits rose at the prospect of some change – any change -- from the dusty, flat prairie they’d spent weeks crossing.

  With a quick bite of breakfast food and a couple of pears he slipped in his pocket, Alec began preparing his wagon to travel; like all the rest he was eager to see those mountains. Like all the rest except his crusty mentor, Aristotle, he corrected himself. Alec remembered then that his dreams during the night had been disturbed by violent images of dark things in the mountains and fire among their wagons, the result, he was sure, of Ari’s ominous talk.

  He finished hitching the horses to the wagon and securing their equipment, then climbed up beside Ari on the wagon bench. “Good morning, Alec. Did you sleep well last night?” Ari asked him.

  Alec looked at the profile of the gray-bearded magician beside him. “No, I had bad dreams, and I blame them all on you,” Alec said sullenly, not yet awake enough to make polite conversation.

  Ari looked at him. “Dreams can be important. What exactly did you dream?”

  “I dreamed there were monsters in the mountains, lots of lacertii that attacked us in a town, and that our wagons caught fire,” Alec admitted. “Exactly what you told me yesterday.”

  “Well, I didn’t tell you precisely that there were lacertii, or that we’d catch on fire,” Ari nitpicked. After a pause he added, “I had the same dreams, as a matter of fact.”

  Alec felt a shiver run up his spine. “Everyone else is cheery today,” he said to change the subject. “Arthur the weightlifter told Jonso the clown that Richard said we may see the mountains today, and even enter their foothills in a day or so,” he reported. “I’ll be happy to see trees again. This land is too flat and empty for me. It’s no wonder we haven’t seen a person in fifteen days,” he finished, his arms gesturing across the open panorama.

  The whistle from Richard’s wagon reached their ears at that moment, and Ari snapped the reins to set their horses in motion, as Alec whipped his arms down to steady himself. They turned the wagon in a wide arc and returned to the faint trail they had followed across the prairie, then pulled to the side and waited for the other wagons to take their places. Alec watched the others pass by, the caged wagons with the lions and tigers, the numerous supply wagons, and the livestock that followed them, the wagon for the ballerinas, and Richard’s gaudily painted rolling home, where he sat in regal control as he pulled into the lead. Wagon after wagon, nearly thirty in all went by, while Ari waited to pull into place at the end.

  Alec thought about the long, boring ride he’d had, then thought about the alternative, the odious life that had driven him to join the carnival. Working in the tannery at Frame had been miserable, even worse than the orphanage he’d had to leave on his fifteenth birthday. At the tannery he’d received only pennies a week and a cot in the warehouse of hides. His days were long, with no time for himself, and when he did get out, other people made fun of how badly he smelled. He had few friends, and no one who he thought of as family.

  One day he overheard other workers talking about the circus being in town, and he’d snuck out after dark, to go to the field on the city’s north side. There he’d walked among the displays and the tents, marveling at the glamour he saw. He stopped and watched the carnival wizard, Aristotle, telling fortunes and performing small feats of magic. Aristotle, with a neatly trimmed beard and a colorful robe, watched Alec watch him for a long time. “Do you want your fortune told?” Aristotle had asked him.

  Alec had stayed back in the crowd and shaken his head no.

  “Don’t be shy. Your look intrigues me,” Ari said. “I won’t charge you for it. Just step forward here.”

  Alec, who had held back because he was shy and because he didn’t have any money, stepped up before the wizard; it was a choice that changed his life. Ari reached out and placed his hands on Alec’s head, then stared into his eyes. “You aren’t happy at home, are you?” Ari asked him.

  “No,” Alec had replied simply.

  He felt something flicker in his head, and saw the ingenaire’s eyes grow big. “Do you have a family here?” he asked Alec in a neutral tone of voice.

  “No, I’m an orphan,” Alec had told him.

  Ari took his hands off the boy. “Would you like to join the carnival and be my assistant? Do you want to travel to different cities and see great wonders?” he had asked.

  Alec just stared, then nodded his head yes, though he’d never considered such an option before. He’d never had an offer from someone giving him a choice; he’d always been told what to do.

  “Why don’t you go down to the river and clean your clothes to get the stink off,” Ari suggested to him. “Then come back here and meet me when the shows close down.”

  Alec hadn’t asked any questions, or even said thank you; he’d turned and ran through town to the river and gotten in the water, cleaning himself as best he could. After that he’d scurried to the market square where his only friend, Jona, worked. Excitedly he told him he was running away with the circus. Jona had laughed, but his laughter petered out when he realized Alec was serious.

  “I’ll miss you, Alec. You’re a great kid to know. Most folks here don’t realize what a good friend they could have if they paid attention to you, shy and smelly as you are!” he said. There was a strong hug and Alec promised to return someday, then he’d run back across town to the field where the circus was, and waited for the people to leave and the lights to go out.

  Alec had gone back to Ari’s tent, afraid that it’d all be a cruel joke. But Ari was there, and when a man came around to claim the night’s cash, Ari said something to him and gestured towards Alec. He sat up straight and held his breath. The man, who turned out to be Richard, nodded and walked away.

  “Congratulations, you’ve got a career as a carnival worker,” Ari said, at which Alec let out his breath and smiled broadly in response.

  Since that time he’d had no regrets, even though the journey through the long line of river towns had given him endless opportunities to shovel horse droppings and carry buckets of water and perform an unending string of menial tasks. He credited that portion of his experience as positive because he’d learned about horses and come to treasure them as bright and good creatures. He’d seen the cities of Three Forks, Stronghold, Growerston, and Sandyfork plus innumerable small towns along the riverbanks during the months of slow travel, and been amazed, then jaundiced, by the variety of people and the universality of their behavior when a carnival came to town.

  Most of all he’d felt adopted by Aristotle. Most folks in the carnival called him Ari, and Alec did too. Ari was like a grandfather. He watched out for Alec, kept him busy and out of trouble, listened to the boy’s observations, and respected him. Alec was devoted to this older man who had so completely changed his life for the better. He was always rea
dy to do something to please his mentor, and never hesitated to follow his instructions.

  Alec was pulled out of his reverie by the motion of their wagon moving into place behind the others. The new day of travel had begun.

  Hours later, one of Richard’s helpers rode along the length of the caravan. “We’ll stop soon to water the animals and get a bite to eat. Don’t circle, just hold your place in line when he whistles,” they heard a set of instructions exactly like those they’d received every day of the prairie crossing.

  Soon the whistle came, and they pulled to a stop. “Go get the water Alec,” Ari instructed him. “I’ll get a bite of lunch ready for us.”

  Alec hopped down and walked with his buckets up to the water wagon in the middle of the caravan line. He waited his turn, which came last, then walked back, lugging the heavy buckets to refresh their horses. He’d no sooner finished than the whistle sounded and the wagons started in motion again.

  Alec had fully awakened during the course of the morning, and grew tired of the monotonous silence that was another of the constant features of the prairie. “Have the mountains always been full of evil things?” he asked Aristotle.

  “No, as a matter of fact, the mountains had civilized kingdoms and churches that saved souls and arts and song and all manner of things, back in the ages when the people in our own Dominion lands were still living in huts and eating fish and berries,” Ari told him.

  “The Lord himself walked among the mountains centuries ago and taught the people ways to live good lives in the sight of his Father, but then he left to return to his other land. And after that it was only a matter of time until dark forces crept in to undo his teaching. They stirred up wrangling and quarreling and wars, and they brought their own evil creatures that eventually drove the survivors away from the mountains and down to our lands. The wars killed a great many good people, and most of the lacertii and others too. Not that the lacertii are bad necessarily. They’re just very different, and we don’t get along. That’s another bad thing the evil powers exploit.

  “We are the descendants of those survivors, from an age so long ago the ruins in the mountains have decayed and been abandoned. Our time has completely forgotten them, except for a few scholars and storytellers. Folks in Riverside and Walnut Creek don’t realize the heritage they live among,” Ari told him. He spent the afternoon recounting tales of battles and great warriors, so that Alec was startled when he heard cheers coming from the wagons in front.

  “What’s happening?” he asked.

  “There’s a rider coming down the line now,” Ari replied, leaning out to the left. “We’ll find out soon.”

  “The mountains are in sight,” Jonso the clown told them as his pony trotted along to their wagon. “Richard says we’ll keep going until it gets too dark to see the track, then we’ll circle the wagons.” The little clown turned his mount and rode back towards the front of the caravan.

  “I can’t see the mountains,” Alec said, straining his eyes towards the horizon.

  “You’re trying to see through the dust of thirty wagons and their animals. Richard has better visibility up in the front. Don’t worry, the mountains are there all right, and you’ll see them soon enough,” Ari reassured him.

  Three hours later Alec could see the distant peaks in front of them.

  “The mountains look red,” Alec commented.

  “The red is the light they’re reflecting from that sunset. They’re called the Pale Mountains because they are very pale in color, and they take on the color of the sky any given day,” Ari replied.

  Alec watched the mountains for the next few minutes, until the sunlight vanished and the whistle sounded the end of the day’s journey.

  That night, when Alec finished his work and went to sit for dinner, he could tell that the sight of the mountains had raised the mood of the company. Treena, who played every musical instrument Alec could imagine, struck up a tune during the meal, and people lingered around the dinner fire to share the good spirits that prevailed. Alec drifted over to where Arthur, the weight lifter, and Schumer, the animal trainer, were holding court for a dozen other workers.

  “Richard reckons that we’ll each receive a bonus of a gold coin after we earn all the money waiting here in the mountains,” Schumer said.

  “We’ll make it two golds if things go really well,” a voice said out of the darkness, and Richard himself walked up to the group, flourishing his cape theatrically. “I think about how jealous the other carnival owners will be when they hear about our success,” Richard said, already imagining the pleasure of gloating over the rewards from the mountains.

  “We’re almost there now folks. Just a couple of days in the mountains and we’ll be in the Griffey Valley, where we can make our money and leisurely float back home to Goldenfields and the rest of the Dominion,” he told them. “So don’t stay up too late tonight; we’ll want to get an early start tomorrow.”

  Richard walked away from the men, and Alec heard Treena softly strum a preening, self-satisfied chord on her instrument that made him laugh out loud momentarily. He looked at her, and she winked at him over the private joke.

  Mathara, the oldest ballerina, came over by the fire. It was unusual to see the dancers consort with the carnival workers; they generally kept company with Richard, and seldom deigned to come among the others. Natalie and Carylys came and sat by a wagon as Maratha started to dance in the firelight. Arthur and Schumer ceased their talk of money and turned to watch Maratha dance as Treena subtly increased the speed of the tune she played. Everyone watched for several minutes, then Carylys joined the dance, and minutes later when Jonso joined them in clownish mimicry everyone laughed with high spirits.

  As the firelight began to die, Alec looked over at Natalie. She was laughing along with everyone else at the clown’s slapstick imitation of her companions. Alec longed to go sit next to her and talk. He began to work his courage up to do so when Schumer did what Alec thought about. The animal trainer sat down next to Natalie and pointed at the dancers, laughing at something and receiving an answering laugh from Natalie. With a frustrated sigh, Alec stood up and walked back to his wagon.

  As Alec got his blankets out of the wagon, he looked up at the sky. A bright red star, one he had never noticed before in the sky, seemed to rise just above the mountains. He lay on the ground, and looked at the star, and thought about Natalie as he fell asleep.

  “Up early,” Alec heard Ari say as a toe nudged his ribs. He opened his eyes and dimly saw Ari standing directly above him. “Richard wants us moving early today, youngster. Get up and get the horses going, while I take care of the wagon.” It was still dark, with a rim of light in the east showing the mountains’ profile.

  Alec groaned and rolled over, then rose and stretched. Grumbling, he rolled his blankets together and threw them into the wagon, then went to feed and water the horses and prepare for the journey.

  He stumped back to their wagon with the horses, moving faster than others who had an even harder time waking up. “Look at all the early bloomers!” he heard Richard shout in the middle of the camp. “Get up everyone, let’s get going quickly. Climbing those mountains will take some time.”

  An hour later the sun was peeking over the horizon and the caravan was starting to move. Ari handed half a loaf of bread to Alec, who ate it as the wagons rolled to the east. The ground soon began to rise and dip slightly, and by noon they were in the foothills of the mountains. They began to see stands of trees in small valleys bottoms that spoke of running water in the rainy season.

  The lunch stop was almost as festive as dinner had been, with people who weren’t tending the horses visiting other wagons and talking about the increasing size of the mountains that were now the canvas of the eastern sky. As the afternoon passed and they traveled on, they even saw a few cabins whose occupants gaped at the unlikely sight of a carnival in the wilderness. “Come see us perform at Riverside!” Richard called out to each prospective paying customer. As
nightfall approached, Richard chose a suitable opening in the trees, and the wagons circled.

  Alec tended his horses, then began picking up wood to restock the supplies they’d use for cooking. He judged by the forests ahead of them that fuel would be plentiful, and so came back to camp after a short but productive effort. By the time he went to eat dinner, most of the other workers had already left. He sat alone and ate his meal, enjoying the sight of trees being illuminated by the cooking fire’s flickering flames. He looked at the dancers’ wagon, and saw that the blinds were partially open. The silhouettes of two girls were visible through the window, one brushing the other’s hair.

  “What’re you looking at?” he heard a voice behind him, and turned, startled, to see Natalie standing next to him. “May I join you?” she asked, with her dinner plate in hand. “Since I’m the youngest dancer, I have to spend more time doing chores than the others,” she explained. Alec listened attentively as he studied the features of her face, its triangular shape, the light brown hair, and the deep green eyes that always drew a second glance.

  “I’ve got the same job assignment,” Alec said with sympathy. “I was just watching the firelight moving on the trees around us,” he explained, motioning around the campsite.

  “It seems like it’s dancing, doesn’t it?” Natalie said. “It’s funny that I’m trying to be a dancer. I never considered it before I joined the carnival, and now I enjoy it.”

  Alec tried to remember when she had joined the carnival. He knew it had been after Ari had invited him to join. “You joined us in Stronghold, didn’t you?” he asked. “Why’d you join if you didn’t want to be a dancer?”

  She paused for a minute, and Alec guessed he had asked the wrong question. “I joined to run away from the tannery,” he volunteered an answer to keep the conversation going. He could smell a delicate perfume from her.