Lord Tophet - By Gregory Frost Page 0,54

hands and kissed her. His lips crushed hers, his whole body trembling behind the kiss as if even the energy he needed to stand up was pouring from his lips. Then he let go, wrenching himself away as if to escape some intense force—let go and dove out of the booth, kicking the theorbo, which spun like a compass needle, coming to rest with the neck aimed at her.

She brought her fingers to her lips, and stared at the blackness of the booth. “Oh, gods,” she whispered but couldn’t move.

They didn’t go to the fair. When the sun dipped below the theater’s walls, Orinda let in the sizable crowd for the early performance. It was the last show in which she would charge a mere penny, and word had spread.

Until the time of the performance, Diverus could not be found anywhere. Soter strode about behind the stage, loudly complaining that he’d never trusted “the thankless boy” and that they should be glad he’d run off. Leodora was too lost in her own distress to object, leaving Soter to enumerate Diverus’s various offenses: laziness, disrespect, thievery, and, worst of all, bad musicianship. Orinda, at the gate with Bois collecting the entrance fees, heard none of it, and Glaise—who could say nothing in anyone’s defense anyway—ignored him.

Then Orinda returned and it was time to begin, and Leodora, ignoring the shouts and cheers, sullenly walked into the empty booth, while Soter continued quietly to denigrate the absent Diverus until Orinda said, “Hush!” with sufficient authority to shut him up.

It was at that point that Hamen and Meg appeared in the wings. They dragged between them a barely conscious and groaning Diverus. Dark purple stained his shirtfront.

Soter took one look at him and pronounced, “By the gods, the rascal’s drunk.”

Orinda remarked, “Of course you’d recognize that.” Soter twitched at her tone and held his tongue. To the two porters, she said, “Here, set him down.”

“Very sorry about this, madam,” replied Hamen, “but we didn’t discover him until Melangia Street wanted lingonberry wine, and there he was, having hacked open a cask and drunk most of it hisself.”

“What he isn’t wearing, that is,” Meg added. “Good thing Hamen recognized him. Most thieves get tossed off the span, we catch ’em, and I doubt too many survive the plummet.”

“We’ll pay for the wine, of course,” Orinda said, and she offered them a handful of coins.

“We’ll give it to Chork. It’s his territory.”

“We’re about to begin a performance. Would you both care to stay?” she asked.

“Looks like you’ve got a full house already,” Hamen said.

“We do, but I have a private box that can’t be entered save from the back, and you’re welcome to that. It gives a very good view of the screen.”

They accepted her invitation with the rationalization that no one would miss them for an hour or two; but before Orinda led them away, she turned to Soter and said, “Get him to the booth so we can start.”

“He can’t play like this.”

“Not from back here, no.”

Soter snorted contempt, but withered under her steady gaze and dragged Diverus onto the stage. The crowd thought this was part of the show and hooted at them. Diverus stumbled free of him and lurched off to career in a circle until Soter could catch hold of him again, by which point the crowd was roaring. Soter cursed as he shoved Diverus through the opening, and Leodora, where she sat between the puppet cases, swiveled around. She watched Soter deposit his besotted burden with obvious contempt. Diverus collapsed in a heap amid his instruments.

“He’s in his cups,” Soter carped, “and at the start of a performance, too.”

“So then, he’s adopted you as a role model.”

“You sound just like Orinda,” Soter answered. “Does everyone hold so low an opinion of me?”

“Just the ones who know you.” She said it almost as an afterthought, because her attention was on Diverus. She knelt beside him and helped him sit up. His head drooped, but he looked up at her with bleary eyes. She said his name. He focused on her briefly, then let his eyes roll and closed the eyelids.

“Lemme go,” he slurred. “Just lemme go.”

“I can’t. You have to play now, you have to accompany me.”

He shook his head.

“Lea, he can’t—”

“Would you please shut up and get out of here? Go announce us. Do your job instead of weighing in on everyone else’s!” She stared daggers at him until he left. Then she ministered to Diverus as best she could.

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