Narrator:
It's Elisabeth who has trouble walking. After a quick conference with her ladies in waiting, Hesketh scoops her up and carries her. Kel motions at a few guards and the group sets off, back to the center of the camp. Gallilei finds the minor moon as he walks - it's not yet midnight - there will be many hours until daylight.
As the group leaves Brandon walks over to where Blackbird is standing...
Blackbird: [unspoken]
Oh, this should be interesting. Now he notices me. After his first choice fails to produce fruit.
(That is what you wanted)
Well ... yes ... but it is just the principle of the thing.
(You really made no effort to steal him away from Gloriana)
What? And slobber all over him in public like she was doing? You must be joking!
(Then why be disappointed that he attends you only after Gloriana is unavailable?)
I would have preferred he took notice of me on his own. It is hard to compete with blatant fawning in the short term, though, I admit. Men are such suckers for that sort of thing. Glori is an amateur.
(She does have the advantage of knowing what might happen.)
All that takes with Brandon is a properly pornographic mind. She would have been no problem. However, being second choice might be an indication that he was holding me in reserve. You only hold a sure thing in reserve.
I do not intend to be regard by him as a "sure thing."
(So you do not want a repeat of last night?)
No. Yes. I mean, I didn't say that.... Last night was fine-
(Fine? A fine night with the man who crippled Bel? Come to think of it, you almost sounded jealous there a minute ago...)
I did not mean it like that! Listen, if I am going to go through with this, I cannot afford to have my skin crawl every time he touches me. I am going to have to reconcile myself to enjoying it.
(Oh, what a sacrifice.)
Stop that! I know what I am doing. I am a good actress. But I will never forget what Brandon did to Bel. That is the only reason I am doing this. Anyway, he has not asked me anything yet. This whole conversation is premature.
(If he does ask?)
Well, I will not exactly ignore him... But I won't make it easy.
[as he nears her, she becomes very involved in retuning the E string on her lute]
Brandon:
I am glad that you are well after your encounter with Hesketh's horse. I hope you didn't take offense at my keeping a bit of distance between us tonight. You are an Anchor, paid for singing and playing. To impose upon you while you were working might imply that you were being paid for something else, a mortal insult to you.
Blackbird: [unspoken]
[mini-flashback to this morning, the hour before dawn. She can hear his words in her ears:]
"You can't believe that I have any respect for you."
[she looks up at him for the first time]
[unspoken]
I still do not believe it.
(He's right you know. If you are an Anchor, don't be surprised when he treats you like one.)
I am also a woman. It is a lame excuse. Nobody would have questioned if he had asked me to dance. Hesketh had no difficulty asking. It would have been better if Brandon just said "I did not have time before the party came to its unfortunate conclusion." The sound of me screaming in ecstasy in his tent in the middle of the night. *That* might imply that I am being paid for more than singing and playing. That is probably what Ruth thought.
So pardon me if I find his concern for my reputation less than sincere.
[aloud, friendly]
No, of course I did not take offense.
Brandon:
When you didn't ask me to dance, I assumed that you wished that personal matters between us were being kept private.
Blackbird: [tilting her head to meet his gaze]
Or it might be that even an Anchor girl likes a man to ask her....
Brandon:
The party ended way too early, I was still being gracious host to the guests, much less having free time for friends.
Narrator:
The action of her looking up seems to go on after her head stops moving. She can see that the horizon is not moving, but her balance is telling her that she is falling backwards, and slightly to the left. Reflexive moves, long trained in the gym, start to take over, modified in order to protect her lute from damage. As she starts her slow motion fall, Brandon reaches out and keeps her from falling, even as her weight shifts as she tries to react to the incorrect signals she is getting about what is and is not upright. He pulls her close to him as she wobbles around.
She feels rather alone and vulnerable. Her emotions have run the gamut and back in the last twenty-four hours: Fear of Brandon. Passion. Exhaltation for Ruth and Wolf. Death threats made to and returned by the Narrator. Anger at being set aside. Fear as Hesketh rode down on them. Extreme anger. Pain and shock and nearly dying. More Anger, followed by tears and the possible loss of Richard's friendship. Self-castigation for nearly alienating Ruth. Lonelienss for Ti as she talked with Luther. Jealousy over Gloriana's attentions and feeling miffed again. And then a fearsome worry as her balance deserts her unexpectedly. It chills her and makes her feel small and tiny as she leans into the warm embrace of arms strong enough to hold her up.
Brandon: [softly]
Would you like to rest in my tent?
Blackbird: [not answering for a second, trying to get her head clear, allowing herself to be held. She shivers, afraid of her body's sudden betrayal.]
[unspoken]
I do not want to be weak around him. Why now? The fates are cruel bitches.
Narrator:
I hear their son is thus a real bastard son of a bitch. :-)
Blackbird:
[aloud]
Y--no. Not yet. If you would accompany me on a little walk, I would appreciate it. I think the air and the motion will help, but I do not think I am ready to try it alone. It seems I still require practice with this walking business. Sir Hesketh has quite a horse.
[pauses]
It has very large, very hard hooves.
[brushing hair back. straight-faced]
I believe you can still see the smith's craftmark if you look closely.
Narrator:
Until now she has been letting him support her. Now the dizziness seems to be have passed. She experimentally puts weight back on her feet and confirms that her eyes and the rest of her body agree about which direction is up.
Brandon:
I think your being here says more about the toughness of a San Sebastian than the craft of a McKitrick smith.
I would be happy to escort you. Do you feel you are ready to walk?
Blackbird: [easing away from him, keeping one hand on his forearm]
For the moment. Stay close.
Brandon:
Gladly.
Narrator:
She puts her arm in his and they start to leave. She sees Rojo still standing there and remembers what she had wanted to talk to him about.
Blackbird: [to Brandon. stopping]
A moment, please.
[to Rojo. *in Andalusian*]
I hope very much that you will be around tomorrow, Rojo. I think we have a lot to talk about. Please do not leave without spending some time with me.
Rojo: [stops talking to Maia. speaking in Adalusian.]
Of course, you agreed to count some money for me. Or does every pretty woman in this camp forget her promises when the music ends.
[doesn't allow an answer]
Go, I will be here quite some time.
[smiling a very open smile at her]
Narrator:
Blackbird gives an embarrassed smile in return. The expression is clearly "You got me."
After the brief exchange between her and Rojo, Blackbird and Brandon walk to the dark outskirts of the camp.
Blackbird:
It has not been the best of days, Brandon. Maybe not as bad as the last time I had a disagreement with a horse. At least nobody died this time. But Sir Richard and I had another argument. Just like last time. The topic was very similar. I disapproved of the behavior of some knights and they disapproved of me telling them about it.
[grins]
Well, there's more to it than that. I seem to have a weak spot in my manners for those occasions.... I'm trying to do better, though, honest. A good game of horseshoes can do wonders for one's resolve.
How has your day been? Better than mine, I hope?
Brandon:
The day was fine, but the bad parts of the party were every bit as bad I as feared they might be. Richard considers me not even worth contempt. While his sister, who is dying for excitement and unpredictability that doesn't involve the realm coming to an end or a loved one dead has decided that I'm just the cure. Exciting and expendable, possibly wilder than even her foresight can cope with.
While Richard likes you, and counts you as a friend, I think he dislikes us both for similar reasons. They both do their best to make sure that I'm painfully aware of the difference between Duchal level nobility, such as they, and the next tier down, such as I. I'm not sure where they place you.
Blackbird: [chuckles]
Neither are they, and I suppose I like it that way.
[Joking or is she?]
I am almost a full Anchor, Brandon. That places me above you all.
[unspoken]
It is merely a matter of who is doing the classifying.
[aloud]
Where do they place your friend Sir Friedrich? One is never sure if he will be the next Duke, or just an attractive bundle of failed potential.
Brandon:
I'm not sure what the Duchess has planned for my friend Friedrich, but so far she is the most dangerous woman he's ever met. He has the task of playing Kirtley McKitrick, the only person to ever best Rabban, against Regginal, the most reknowned knight in the realm, in a game where the stakes are the duchy of Tudor and the peace of the realm.
Blackbird: [seriously]
Tabytha? Dangerous? Since when? She's a child!
[takes pause at her own words a moment when she remembers that Tabytha is three months older than she is. And a Duchess.]
[his raised eyebrow tells her that he understands very well that she is dangerous. And that if she is a child, so must be Blackbird. He doesn't buy either idea.]
Well ... anyway, what difficulty is there in simply keeping away from her? He keeps away from Tabytha and neither Kirtley nor Regginal have any reason to become displeased with him. Or is there something else going on here? What?