The Hidden Witch by A C Rae

Author:A C Rae [Rae, A C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-24T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Nothing lightens up the daily drudgery for a Aeliner than a show at one of the Aelin theatres. The most splendid by far is The Phoenix, almost scandalously close to the Temple of the Ancestors, only deemed fitting since they have the good fortune of having the patronage of King Stephan. However, most of the nobility flit between all the theatres, and all classes of Aeliner can be found in almost any of them.”

Book I, A Guide to Avarria

Quinn pulled Bessie gently to a stop as they reached the sounds of raucous laughter. There was an inviting plume of smoke trailing above the trees, and he could hear the soft strains of a flute as he helped Eira dismount. They walked over to Pryce, who beckoned them.

“We will be safe with these old friends of mine.” He looked to Eira. “Do not fear, although they are boisterous they are good men and no harm will come to you, I swear.” Eira nodded even as she swallowed nervously. She instinctively reached for Quinn's hand, and he squeezed her hand gently in a gesture of comfort before realising whose hand he was holding. He wiped his head surreptitiously on his breeches, disgusted with himself.

Pryce continued, “They are a travelling troupe of players. I am sure we will be able to blend in well with them.”

He marched forward into the trees, and Eira and Quinn tentatively followed.

As the trees thinned out into a clearing, Quinn could see in fact there were four men sat around a fire that had a joint of boar being merrily turned on a spit over it. As the men noticed them, the joyous little tune emanating from the flute cut abruptly short. The men reached for their swords at their sides before Pryce jumped forward.

“Is that any way to treat an old friend?” He asked, feigning hurt, and taking off his mask. Quinn, following his lead, proceeded to take off his mask as well.

The man who had been turning the spit bounced to his feet. “Bless the Ancestors, is that you Pryce?”

“The one and the same! I bring two friends who are under my care. Quinn, and...”

Eira cleared her throat. “Anne, my name is Anne.”

The man came towards her, “Then Lady Anne, we are honoured by your noble presence.” He bent down, and produced a low bow, containing an impressive number of flourishes, before taking her hand and kissing it. Eira smiled warmly at him, a smile that lit up her features and made her look almost radiant. Suddenly, inexplicably, Quinn was surprised to find himself scowling. It soon turned into a fake smile when he noticed Pryce was watching him.

Pryce coughed to hide his amusement. “Quinn, Anne, these are my friends; Jon Herring, Dick Babbage, Will Shakes and Rich Crawley.” Each man bowed theatrically as their name was announced.

Eira could not hide her gasp of surprise. “Dick? As in the Dick Babbage, who performed Faucet last season in the play by the great Chris Marvin?”

Jon, who had kissed her hand, threw his cloak back in a forlorn gesture.

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