Chapter 18: Serenades and Love Songs

Our evening meal was a much quieter and laid back affair than the midday meal had been, with no demands on us to impress royalty. Lord Esterhal and his family had left for the Palace, where they would be dining with the Princess. We had all enjoyed early afternoon naps, as everyone made an effort to ensure they would be able to stay awake through the midnight hour for Thistle and Starlight's performance.

Thistle and Starlight ate their dinner sequestered in Thistle's room. They had very specific goals in mind for tonight's performance, and did not want to be influenced as they sought to settle into their 'performer's focus', as Thistle called it.

Their performance instruments were already at the hall, locked in an instrument room and under the strict control of the Hall's Maestro. There they would adjust to the Hall's environment, and they too would be ready to perform when the time came. As we were getting ourselves ready for the evening, we could hear the sounds of their practice instruments coming from Thistle's room. Not really playing anything, just familiar background, like the sound of one's own breathing.

Cor and I took a long, hot bath, but not together. She had scented oils and soaps in hers that I thought wouldn't be appropriate on me as the oils and scents in mine would not have suited her.

I trimmed my mustache and sideburns, which I'd let grow out recently. The trimming revealed that it had grown in thick and dense. I didn't use the scissors or razor that Wick had left me, preferring a little Light manipulation, but I did use some beard oil that he gave me and it left my facial hair looking lustrous and darkly gleaming.

NeedleThorn got a nice oiling as well, and a surge of Magic-based reinforcement that made her dark wood shine and glow with the Light of living wood, which she was. I washed my Wizard's Cloak in Magic too, and let it transform into a black-as-night version of itself, and then let the night sky show itself on it. The stars and sky above Beletara were visible, now and then a falling star would streak across the garment, from place to place. I was ready.

Cor had been the one who climbed into the bath, but it was The Wind of Arbor who climbed out. Naked and perfect, she stood before me and let a gentle warm breeze dry her. With her arms stretched out at her side she slowly wrapped herself in wind, little wisps of cloud and streaks of mist came next, followed by blankets of fog and roiling streaks of cloud, both bright and cheery and dark and ominous. The end result was a diaphanous wonder of black and white and gray that matched my colors, but which left the eyes mesmerized and wondering why something that should be so utterly revealing should managed to guard its secrets so well.

As amazed and awed as I was when I saw her, the reaction when we got downstairs was magnitudes greater. Violet understood the significance immediately.

"We dined this day at evening meal with our friend Wind, but tonight we shall enter the Grand Hall in the company of The Wind of Arbor."

With all that, we still had time to stop and admire the women in their outfits. The Royal seamstresses of Midhal had worked their own brand of magic, and the dresses were magnificent. Plover's in particular was striking. Her dress was a bright leaf-green, and swirled around her like a plant unfolding in the morning light. Her hair was colored the red of rose petals, and it too swirled, coiled like a rosebud high on her head. Everything worked perfectly with the slight green cast of her skin and lips.

"You look the very fairy tale image of a Wood Wife." Marsh commented.

We were arranged in carriages that would normally have held eight, but with the women's fine dresses we limited it to six each. Starlight and Thistle would come separately later, so it was the fourteen of us left plus the Shavroms - Wick and Violet, Cap and Marsh, Cord and Breeze. Cord's parents, who we had met at dinner for the first time, Crane and Bough Ambrul, were already at the hall with most of the children and other parents. Bough was Wick and Violet's youngest daughter, and Crane was one of the Shavrom's Shipping factors. He was also a bit of a stuffed shirt, but he seemed to dote on his wife and the gleam of pride in his eyes when he looked at his son spoke volumes.

Someone somewhere in the Shavrom household did the math and realized that splitting twenty people into groups of six was not going to work out evenly, so the first three carriages went with a sort of buddy system. Wick and Violet rode with Plank and Opal Durmiter as well as Firetree and Plover in the first. Cord and Breeze rode with the Vanoc family and Serenity in the second and Cap and Marsh rode with the Hellerins and Trough Farelly in the third. They let Cor and I bring up the rear, and it was on purpose. Wick wanted a dramatic entrance for The Wind of Arbor and her 'consort', a title that was granting me, by virtue of pronouncing it publicly, status as spouse.

The entrance to the Grand Hall is a broad semi-oval of stone steps, thirty of them, that lead to a wide plaza fronting the seven wide doors that frame the Royal Entrance in the center, all of which open into the interior of the Hall itself.

As we were assisted out of our carriage, it became obvious that word of our arrival had preceded us. The stone steps were packed at both edges with large crowds of people being held back by the royal Guard. A thin gentlemen carrying an ornate staff and dressed in purple velvet with what appeared to be gold leaf accessories, bowed to us and turned to lead us up the steps. There was no sign of those who had left in front of us.

<I think we were brought to the Hall via the long route.> I sent to Cor.

<Wick's plan for a Grand Entrance calls for it I guess.> She thought back.

There were even more people crowding the plaza atop the stairs and our gilded escort led us square through the Royal Entrance and into the receiving Hall. I spotted Wick and everyone else near one of the two main staircases and gave Cor a little mental heads up. Our progress was halted as we reached the Great Seal of Beletara in the center of the room. Our escort stopped there. He paused for a long second before slamming the butt of his staff onto the marble floor twice. As the echoes died away from the booming strikes he announced us.

"Presenting her Holiness The Wind of Arbor and her consort, the Wizard Weaver!"

His voice managed to echo back from the walls just once before it was drowned out by the sound of the crowd cheering and applauding. He let us bask in the sound of it for a moment before heading for the staircase where Wick and the rest of our party were waiting.

The walk up the staircase and down the curving hall to the Shavrom's private box was a jumble of smiling faces and greetings. Our box was a steep balcony section with seating for thirty. There were three back rows of six seats each and two middle rows of four seats each and then a wide space and four more seats right at the edge of the balcony's front wall. Whoever sat in the front row would be very visible when the house lights were up, but the steep slope of the seating allowed for a good view for everyone. Each side of the section was walled, but the wall ran only four feet high and was finished with a heavy velvet curtain. The seats were softly padded and generous, given the billowing nature of women's fancy dresses, they needed to be.

There was a good hour of milling about and socializing before the Evening concert began. We were introduced to quite a few of the Shavrom's peers and rivals in the shipping and mercantile trades. Wick was also running as many of the Shavrom employees and their families through as time and circumstances allowed. Finally a loud bell sounded and people began moving off to find their seats.

"Twenty minutes until the lights go down." Cap told me.

We found our seats, and of course Cor and I were sitting at the very front with Wick and Violet. A service was brought in on a cart to the small open area behind us, and we were offered wine and appetizers, mostly cold cuts and savory or sweet bread knots.

The orchestra had been warming up for most of the time we had been otherwise occupied, but those sounds dimmed and faded away. The house lights dimmed. Finally a voice rose out of the darkness.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome her Highness, Princess Redstone Taravac, Right Ruler of the city of Beletara and Monarch of the Kingdom, long may she reign."

A spotlight bathed a private box across the hall from us. It was smaller and higher up than ours, and had no adjoining boxes.

The room exploded into applause and cheering, and everyone rose as a single horn began playing a haunting tune that was the Beletaran Anthem. Everyone in the house was standing for this, and we joined them. The anthem ended and was followed by a smattering of applause and cheering before the announcer spoke again.

"Accompanying her Highness this evening is Lord Esterhal, the King of Midhal, and his wife Queen Serene."

Lord and Serene received a nice round of applause, and he made sure to be seen holding her hand. They bowed to the crowd together.

"Also with us this evening, for the first time in eight generations," came the voice, with a long pause for effect. "The Wind of Arbor and her consort, Weaver, Wizard of the Valley of the Wind."

We of course had to stand while the spotlight fell on us, and there was another round of applause and cheering. We sat again once the spotlight had died out. The light stayed out this time and the voice was silent for a while as the curtain slowly opened on the great stage to reveal an orchestra of hundreds. They were flanked on each side by two large choirs, young boys and girls nearest us and adult men and women at the far side of the orchestra. When the curtain had stopped moving we had another long moment of silence and then 'The Voice', as I was already beginning to think of him, spoke again.

"We begin the evening with the 'Season's Medley', recapturing the wonder of the past year's performances."

The next hour was an interesting mix of music, as the orchestra, often accompanied by one or both of the choirs, moved smoothly from tune to tune. Most were symphonic in nature, but there were several solo pieces, both instrumental and choral. There were brief bouts of applause following these, but the musicians seemed prepared for that as they never seemed to rush or hesitate during the transitions following them.

"The solos are from the best of this years individual performances." Violet whispered to us after one of them.

There was a brief intermission as the two choirs came together to the front and left of the orchestra. The house lights had not been raised for this. Then it was time for the announcer again.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the Royal Symphony and Choral Assembly, under the direction of Maestro Raven Calmonul are pleased to present to you... 'The Bells of Arbor'."

This symphonic suite was the Arborian version of performing 'The Nutcracker' back on Earth. It was the traditional Midwinter's Eve performance, Wick told us. It had been performed in this hall every Midwinter's Eve for close to three hundred years. It was grand and sweeping, even majestic in places, but always underneath, carrying light and sweetness with every note, were the tinkling of bells. Not the 'ching ching ching' of sleigh bells, but the light silvery sound of bells, like wind chimes, almost a separate performance, very jazz-like in its reliance on finding spaces in the music, popping out occasionally on the back beat of several passages. Missing an expected beat here and there to remind you of its presence by momentarily failing to be there.

The choral performances were fascinating in and of themselves. There were no words. The human voice had been written into this piece as an instrument, and that was how they were used. At several points during the performance the voices of the chorus became the bells. Each voice a bell, then joined as blended strings of bells ringing together in falling skeins of notes that rose up even as they fell and pulled up at last out of the swell of brass and string to make your heart beat fast and your eyes blur with tears of emotion.

The entire performance lasted three hours, and it seemed to pass far more quickly than that. When the last note faded, a final tinkling bell, the applause was thunderous, and Cor and I were on our feet applauding and cheering along with everyone in the Grand Hall.

With the house lights up and everyone gathering themselves, I had time to wonder at Thistle's desire to follow such a performance.

Princess Redstone kept her promise during the intermission and stopped to visit, though only briefly. We were her only stop away from the Royal level, and of course she made a stir, but she stopped and exchanged a few pleasantries, asking how we liked the evening so far and reveling in our emotional reactions to 'The Bells', as she called it.

When the visit was over and the lights had dimmed again, we heard the announcer once again from the dark depths of the hall.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, We are proud to present to you, The Bard of the North, Thistle Kerwen and, in her introductory performance, his protégé, Starlight Hellerin."

A single spot lit up to reveal Thistle and Starlight sitting at the front of the stage, both holding Cuesta's. Thistle stood and took a couple of steps forward.

"Citizens of Beletara, The hour grows late and the houses are dark, but we are eager for your embrace. We have come to stand before your window. We call gently to you in the night."

Thistle sat again, and He began to play a soft, gentle tune that didn't drift far from the few notes it opened with. Rather it shrank and grew in volume, it changed tempo from slow and languorous to rapid and urgent, finally Starlight entered the tune, playing the same simple set of notes, but finding different spots and altering the peaks and drawing out the slide back down with muted counterpoints. The quiet tune was mesmerizing in its syncopated play back and forth between the two threads of the same melody. It was like a song done in the round, but never quite synchronized to the same beat or the same note or the same tone and temper. Like rain on a window, it was patternless sychronicity that lulled you and called you at the same time. The Cuesta, with its inherently percussive underpinnings was perfect for this entry into the evening. The two instruments, and the two players danced this duet for almost twenty minutes before they finally let the notes stop, suddenly in jarring silent accord.

The hypnotic aftereffect of the song lasted just a second, the room hung in silence for just a heartbeat and then exploded into cheers and applause. We were right there with the audience clapping madly.

When the crowd quieted at last, Thistle was once again standing at the very front of the stage. He was holding his guitar now, while Starlight still sat with her Cuesta.

"You have come to your window now, Beletara, and we serenade you, we call to you with our song of hope and love."

Starlight began playing a smooth, sensuous beat as Thistle returned to his chair. With the guitar in hand, he slipped into the song as well. This time the song was loud and brash and vibrant from beginning to end. The bright ripples of the guitar mingling with the booming call of the Cuesta. The instruments ascended over each other, breaking through with bits of brilliance and fire. This time the music didn't call you, it reached out and touched you. It pulled at your soul and dazzled you, buried you in the heat of it.

Halfway through, Starlight switched to her guitar and suddenly the music exploded with fire and life. The two wove themselves together with complexity and depth and passion and conviction. The notes fell too fast to follow, but underneath them was power and passion and love and hope and a thousand other unguessed momentary emotions fleeting, fading and rising again as quickly as the notes themselves. The final passage of this section was a whirlwind of dueling runs up and down the scales, meeting here and there in a splendid blossom of chords. This time the notes simply faded, into a repeating, dying echo, that let you recognize those same simple notes from the first song just before they faded away completely.

If the crowd had been receptive to the first song, they were doubly so over this remarkable performance. They had just watched two virtuoso performances on an instrument they had never seen before. It took a good ten minutes for the applause to die, and only Thistle standing at the front of the stage calmly waiting with his head bowed brought them back into the performance itself. Finally with the Hall hushed and expectant, Thistle spoke again.

"You have come down from your window and into my arms, and now that you are close, I can whisper into your ear the words I've dreamt of saying for so long." Thistle remained at the front of the stage, alone and began to play, a simple strum at first, just chords. Mostly a rhythm and a beat during the first pass. He began to sing then in his rich baritone.

Bless me, as the ocean blesses you.
Hold me close, as the sea does you.
I shall whisper words of love forever
Soft and endless as the waves upon the shore.
Love me as I love you eternal Beletara.
Love me now and forevermore.

Let me carry you upon the water.
Let me shelter you against the rising tide.
I shall hold your love forever
Deep and unmeasured as the bottom of the sea.
Love me as I love you bright Beletara.
Love me now and forevermore.

There was a small smattering of applause as Thistle dropped back into the unaccompanied chords of the song, but he soon brought the notes out of the chords, and ran a long instrumental storm of variations on the basic song that had begun to feel so familiar to us all already. Finally it dropped back into the chords again, and once again he sang.

Kiss me gently as the ocean kisses you.
Caress and hold me like the Summer Sea.
I shall lay within your arms forevermore
Peace and joy a'shining is the city on the plain.
Love me as I love you sweet Beletara.
Love me now and Forevermore.

Forever in my heart is Beletara
Forever with you lives my beating heart.
I shall hold you close and want no other
Together now are the sea and shining city.
Love me as I love you beloved Beletara
Love me now and forevermore.

Thistle ended the song with a final flourish of notes and a bowed head, and again the hall exploded in applause. When the crowd grew quiet at last, they found Starlight standing where Thistle had been, her guitar in hand.

"I have heard your call, and it has stirred me. In the dark of night, my heart moves and without conscious decision I am with you and in your arms. You speak the words I longed to hear, and they open my heart to you.

Starlight began to play her guitar, beginning immediately with a light, tinkling progression up the scale. As the progression peaked she broke back into a rich lower cord and in a velvety alto voice began to sing.

Keep me forever in your heart
Keep me forever in your arms and in your dreams
dance with me at midnight on Midwinter's Eve.
Underneath the Starry, Starry sky of home.
Call me love, call me home tonight, to Beletara
Call me love, forever call me home.

Wish with me upon a star.
Wish with me for forever and a day
in your arms like on that Midwinter's Eve.
Beside the sweet, sweet Summer Sea of home.
Hold me love, hold me close tonight, in Beletara
Hold me love, forever hold me close.

Starlight played her interlude, mirroring Thistle's, and the crowd, expecting it this time held their applause to a brief ripple. Her instrumental bridge was more delicate and melodic than than Thistle's, quieter and warmer, but you could hear a slight echo of Thistle's theme in hers. Her interlude didn't fade or stop, it strengthened and she began to sing again.

Lay with me upon the plain.
Lay with me forever and a day.
In your arms every night is Midwinter's Eve.
Together in the arms of Beletara
Dance with me love, dance with me tonight
Dance with me love, forever in Beletara.

Thistle joined her then and their two songs began to blend together as they played, until they were matching each other note for note in a dazzling display of perfect synchronization, and at last they sang together, joining the final refrains from both their songs, drawing them out into a slow and achingly beautiful refrain.