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“Songs in the Garden” by Matt Trepal (part 2 of 2)
Brolio has discovered that traitors plot the kidnapping of their Duchess. What can a traveling musician do to thwart their plan?
Today’s story is the second and final part of “Songs in the Garden” by Matt Trepal, one of thirteen stories featured in SPECIES: Foxes, published by Thurston Howl Publications, but which is now unfortunately out of print.
Last time, Brolio the traveling musician was invited to perform at the Duchess’s Summer Festival celebration, was smitten by the Duchess, and stumbled upon a nefarious plot to kidnap her. Now he seeks to warn her without alerting the traitors to what he has discovered.
Read for you by Rob MacWolf — werewolf hitchhiker.
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https://thevoice.dog/episode/songs-in-the-garden-by-matt-trepal-part-2-of-2
Transcript
You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.
Speaker:This is Rob MacWolf, your fellow traveler,
Speaker:and Today’s story is the second
Speaker:and final part of “Songs in the Garden”
Speaker:by Matt Trepal, one of thirteen stories featured in SPECIES: Foxes,
Speaker:published by Thurston Howl Publications,
Speaker:but which is now unfortunately out of print.
Speaker:Last time, Brolio the traveling musician
Speaker:was invited to perform
Speaker:at the Duchess’s Summer Festival celebration,
Speaker:was smitten by the Duchess,
Speaker:and stumbled upon a nefarious plot to kidnap her.
Speaker:Now he seeks to warn her
Speaker:without alerting the traitors to
Speaker:what he has discovered.
Speaker:Please enjoy“Songs in the Garden”
Speaker:by Matt Trepal, Part 2
Speaker:of 2 Brolio cowered in the cubby,
Speaker:clutching at his biwhela.
Speaker:His heart hammered and his mouth was dry,
Speaker:and he strained his ears and nose for any hint that the traitors were still near.
Speaker:Terror warred with anger as he waited,
Speaker:counting his heartbeats.
Speaker:He heard and smelled nothing but his own fear,
Speaker:then waited a while longer,
Speaker:to be sure. Only then did he slowly,
Speaker:carefully, poke his muzzle from the cubby,
Speaker:fearing discovery at any moment.
Speaker:He turned his ears this way and that,
Speaker:stared into the spaces between the trees,
Speaker:sniffed at the air,
Speaker:taking in every sound, sight, and scent he could.
Speaker:Any sudden noise or movement might have sent him running mindlessly,
Speaker:but he heard nothing besides the
Speaker:far-off clatter of the fountain,
Speaker:saw nothing but the surrounding greenery,
Speaker:and smelled nothing but the grass and trees.
Speaker:How could they have missed me?
Speaker:he thought as he crept between the trees, trying to make no sound
Speaker:and always keeping a bole between himself and the Garden's gate.
Speaker:How could Sir Larno forget that he'd left me here?
Speaker:Finally convinced he was alone in the Garden,
Speaker:he approached the doors.
Speaker:They were closed. He pulled, but they did not move.
Speaker:He strained against them, to no avail.
Speaker:Sir Larno had locked them,
Speaker:leaving Brolio trapped inside.
Speaker:Again, his heart began to race.
Speaker:He paced before the doors, mind racing, tail flicking madly.
Speaker:He raised his fist to pound on the door,
Speaker:but checked himself. The Steward could be just beyond,
Speaker:and if so then Brolio would be found out.
Speaker:Looking up, the only windows were far above.
Speaker:Would anyone hear if he called?
Speaker:And how could he know that whomever came to his aid was not also a traitor?
Speaker:What had the man Camelo said
Speaker:about their co-conspirators?
Speaker:There are "enough".
Speaker:He could never know who to trust.
Speaker:Might there be other doors out of the Garden,
Speaker:doors that he had not noticed before,
Speaker:caught up as he was in the wonder of it?
Speaker:He turned and marched along the wall, to survey all four sides of his prison.
Speaker:An hour later he completed the circuit, no better off.
Speaker:As far as he could tell, this was the only door.
Speaker:Perhaps there were hidden portals,
Speaker:ingenious sections of wall that pivoted upon proper application of force, but finding such a secret
Speaker:was beyond Brolio's faculties.
Speaker:He was locked in
Speaker:until the servants arrived to complete preparation for the feast.
Speaker:Luckily for him, the wait was not long.
Speaker:When the lock rattled, Brolio fled into the trees.
Speaker:As the saying goes, Brolio thought,
Speaker:the Divine favors fools,
Speaker:drunkards, and wayward trobodons.
Speaker:He watched servants enter carrying trays of food for the feast and then,
Speaker:when they had passed,
Speaker:raced through the open door and into the palace. #
Speaker:Brolio meant to find the kitchen,
Speaker:someplace at least a little familiar,
Speaker:but after the forest-room he was lost,
Speaker:forced to admit that the Duchess had occupied more of his thoughts than the route through the palace.
Speaker:"Not that I expected to have to find my own way,"
Speaker:he muttered as he considered an intersection. "Master
Speaker:Trobodon!" a voice called out.
Speaker:Brolio shivered from nose to tail-tip,
Speaker:and his hackles rose beneath his tunic.
Speaker:His heart once again began to hammer.
Speaker:"Ho, Master! Wait, I beg you!"
Speaker:Intrigue is not my forte, he thought as he turned toward the speaker.
Speaker:A hedgehog page trotted up to him.
Speaker:"You are Master Brolio, I presume?"
Speaker:the youth asked. "I am. Who asks for me?"
Speaker:The page bowed. "Sir Larno has directed all the pages to watch for you,"
Speaker:he said, and Brolio stifled a yip of renewed panic.
Speaker:"Your performing suit is ready,
Speaker:and you are invited to dine
Speaker:before preparing for this evening's feast.
Speaker:I will lead you to your chambers.
Speaker:chambers." "Yes," Brolio said in a gasp of held breath.
Speaker:"I would appreciate such an opportunity.
Speaker:opportunity." He tried to calm his racing pulse. I must gain
Speaker:control of myself,
Speaker:he thought. I will reek of fear if I cannot.
Speaker:My performance will be a disaster, and I
Speaker:will be useless to aid the Duchess.
Speaker:Leading Brolio along a route that the fox did not even attempt to memorize,
Speaker:the hedgehog stopped beside a door.
Speaker:"Your chambers, Master.
Speaker:A bath has been prepared,
Speaker:and dinner will be delivered shortly.
Speaker:Your performing suit awaits within.
Speaker:within." The page opened the door, then bowed again,
Speaker:and Brolio bowed in return. "Your
Speaker:Lady is exceedingly generous,"
Speaker:he said. "I hope I can even partially
Speaker:repay her kindness tonight.
Speaker:tonight." The suite consisted of a sitting room, a bedroom, and a bathing room.
Speaker:Brolio set his biwhela on a divan
Speaker:in the sitting room and looked out the window,
Speaker:over the town and down to the harbor.
Speaker:Two fortress towers guarded the harbor mouth,
Speaker:and he knew a chain was strung between them, to be raised
Speaker:in order to keep out raiding ships.
Speaker:Which is the Windlass Tower? That one
Speaker:was allegedly filled with traitors.
Speaker:Would they truly turn their guns on their comrades?
Speaker:There was a knock and Brolio answered the door to a liveried doe bearing a covered platter.
Speaker:"Sir Larno offers his compliments,
Speaker:and will make his best effort to visit before your performance,"
Speaker:the page said as she set the platter on a table.
Speaker:“In the meanwhile,
Speaker:he offers you dinner before the Midsummer feast.”
Speaker:Brolio uncovered a dish piled with sea scallops, noodles, and sun-dried tomatoes in a white sauce.
Speaker:Despite his anxiety, his mouth watered and his stomach grumbled at the rich aroma,
Speaker:reminding him that his last meal
Speaker:had been back at the Wide Wide Sea early this morning.
Speaker:"I thank him," he told the doe.
Speaker:"But please
Speaker:bring me a jug of fresh water.
Speaker:I cannot drink wine before such an important performance.
Speaker:performance." The page bowed, and after she'd left Brolio sat down to the delectable dinner before him.
Speaker:He set in with gusto,
Speaker:and was slurping up a noodle when another knock came.
Speaker:"Enter," he called out, and popped a scallop into him muzzle.
Speaker:Sir Larno entered, carrying a water jug.
Speaker:Brolio’s panic welled up and he began to cough, choking on his food.
Speaker:The Steward set the water jug on the table beside Brolio’s dinner.
Speaker:"I hope the food is to your liking,"
Speaker:he asked, concern in his voice and clear on his face.
Speaker:None of the anger Brolio had heard in the Garden was evident now,
Speaker:and his agitation had faded.
Speaker:Brolio poured himself a goblet of water and sipped at it
Speaker:before speaking.
Speaker:"Very much so, Sir Larno.
Speaker:I am grateful for the accommodations.
Speaker:The life of a trobodon does not often lead to such luxury.
Speaker:luxury." The otter laughed.
Speaker:He had a gentle laugh that invited friendship,
Speaker:and Brolio found it difficult to connect this genial man with the traitor he’d overheard. "Uzbarcans
Speaker:pride ourselves in hospitality," he said.
Speaker:"The Duchess is no different.
Speaker:different." He sat on one of the divans.
Speaker:"I trust you had a successful afternoon planning your performance?" Brolio
Speaker:wanted to shout the man’s crimes to his face, to lay out his treason before him,
Speaker:but knew that would only bring disaster.
Speaker:Instead, he delayed his response by savoring another scallop.
Speaker:"I did," he finally said.
Speaker:"I found myself a secluded spot to plan.
Speaker:It was outside of the Garden, though. The fountain distracted me."
Speaker:"It must have been quite the spot,"
Speaker:Sir Larno said. "You disappeared for a time.
Speaker:time." Another sip bought more time.
Speaker:What does he know?
Speaker:Brolio thought.
Speaker:He could smell his own faint agitation and fear.
Speaker:How good is an otter’s sense of smell?
Speaker:"I admit I lost my way through the palace," he said.
Speaker:"I am grateful your page found me."
Speaker:The Steward laughed again.
Speaker:"The Payadsul has been rebuilt and renovated
Speaker:many times,” he said,
Speaker:“and sometimes corridors do not lead where you expect. I am glad you were found.
Speaker:found." He stood. "The servants are making the final preparation in the Shardonbiet,
Speaker:and the feast itself begins in about three hours, just past sunset.
Speaker:I will leave you to finish dinner and your preparations.
Speaker:I speak for the Duchess when I tell you
Speaker:we know that tonight will be an extraordinary experience.
Speaker:experience." Brolio stood and walked the Steward to the door.
Speaker:"I believe that, Sir Larno,"
Speaker:he said, "and I will do everything in my ability to make it so.
Speaker:so." But perhaps not in the manner that you expect.
Speaker:Instead of reveling in the luxury of his after-dinner bath, Brolio fretted
Speaker:about what the Steward knew about
Speaker:what Brolio knew.
Speaker:Did Sir Larno know anything?
Speaker:Was he allowing Brolio to move in order to snare him?
Speaker:With no friends within the Payadsul, everyone must be considered an enemy,
Speaker:and avoided. There would be no allies to help him warn the Duchess.
Speaker:And how might he do that, anyway? He could
Speaker:hardly intrude upon her to speak direct,
Speaker:not with the Steward managing both her movements and his own.
Speaker:He sank below the warm water, leaving only the tip of his muzzle protruding,
Speaker:fighting his frustration.
Speaker:Improvisation was key to the trobodon's art, it was true,
Speaker:but this would strain all of his skill to the utmost,
Speaker:and he was not convinced all his skill would suffice.
Speaker:After his bath he donned his performing suit,
Speaker:a peasant shirt, breeches with silver tassels at the cuffs,
Speaker:a cloak, and a belt of fine entwined leather strips.
Speaker:The shirt was pure white silk,
Speaker:and the breeches and cloak were of black velvet,
Speaker:heavily embroidered with shooting stars in red and yellow silken thread.
Speaker:Aside from his biwhela,
Speaker:his performing suit was the most valuable thing he owned.
Speaker:As he tightened his belt,
Speaker:a new knock came.
Speaker:"Come in," he called out.
Speaker:It was the same page who found him wandering the corridors.
Speaker:"Sir Larno has sent me to lead you to the Shardonbiet, Master Trobodon,"
Speaker:he said, bowing. Brolio tucked his
Speaker:Caitavere flute into his belt, then slung his biwhela over his back.
Speaker:"I am ready," he said.
Speaker:But that was a lie.
Speaker:He was not at all prepared for tonight’s true task. #
Speaker:The servants were finalizing preparations when Brolio arrived in the Garden.
Speaker:Lantern-light flickered, food and drink covered the tables,
Speaker:and beside the table nearest the door a pair of musicians tuned their instruments,
Speaker:a chamois plucking the strings of her beol
Speaker:and a wolf adjusting the reed of her ob.
Speaker:Brolio inclined his head to the ladies as he walked to a cubby within earshot of the door.
Speaker:He desired to remain unseen
Speaker:but know when guests arrived.
Speaker:Sitting upon the divan, he tried to clear his mind for the performance
Speaker:by working through his fingering exercises.
Speaker:It was not easy work. The enormity of the problem before him
Speaker:constantly intruded,
Speaker:and finally he gave in to worry.
Speaker:The guests began to arrive,
Speaker:and as they did a page would introduce them
Speaker:in a clear voice.
Speaker:"Lord and Lady So-and-so", the page announced, or
Speaker:"Master Whats-her-name of the Thus-and-such Guild, and wife",
Speaker:or "Sir Thingum, Esquire",
Speaker:and so on. When he felt a suitable number of guests wandered the Garden,
Speaker:Brolio put his Caitavere flute to his lips
Speaker:and began to play the sprightly "Midsummer's Day".
Speaker:Guests exclaimed at the sudden manifestation of the music, and wondered aloud from whence it came.
Speaker:Beginning the next song, the more languid "Tuendy-Nean at the Pools of Light",
Speaker:he stepped out from the cubby and into a cluster of guests.
Speaker:They laughed and clapped, delighted at his unexpected appearance,
Speaker:and he wove through them as he piped.
Speaker:Enthusiastic applause showered him as he played the final long, warbling notes. He bowed
Speaker:deeply. "Welcome, my lords and ladies,
Speaker:to the Duchess Trella's Midsummer feast.
Speaker:I am Master Brolio,
Speaker:and it is my distinct pleasure to entertain you this fine Midsummer's evening.
Speaker:evening." He tucked the flute back into his belt and took up his biwhela.
Speaker:"I believe you will all know this next song,"
Speaker:he said, and struck the first chord of "The Lifting of the Welcome-Cup".
Speaker:One guest clapped along as Brolio played and sang, and at the chorus the entire group raised their drinks and raucously joined in.
Speaker:He began the second verse, and some continued to sing along.
Speaker:Toasts were made, wine was drunk,
Speaker:and laughter was all around him.
Speaker:This is not their first taste of wine today, he thought wryly as he sang.
Speaker:How many would find their ways into the cubbies as the night wore on,
Speaker:to sleep or for an assignation?
Speaker:Grinning, he left the group, and they waved and laughed, fully in the spirit of the feast.
Speaker:No matter what dangers he might ultimately face tonight, pleasing the audience never failed to buoy him.
Speaker:It was his sole purpose in life.
Speaker:As the evening progressed, Brolio charmed the guests.
Speaker:When he strolled near to a refreshments table the musicians there stilled their own instruments and let him command the space. When he
Speaker:paused to quench his thirst
Speaker:or rest his fingers
Speaker:he was continually complimented.
Speaker:His mood lifted and he laughed with the guests, his tail wagging,
Speaker:sometimes telling tales of travels and performances past.
Speaker:He never forgot the danger looming at midnight,
Speaker:but his lightened spirits gave him confidence in his ability,
Speaker:somehow, to warn the Duchess in time.
Speaker:After performing one of the great heroic epics, he sipped at a goblet of juice.
Speaker:A corpulent bear, wearing the office-chain of a guild-master, sidled up alongside him.
Speaker:"I was hoping, Master Trobodon,
Speaker:if I might make a request of a song,"
Speaker:the man asked in a wheezing voice,
Speaker:and his breath was laden with pear brandy and spiced meat.
Speaker:He leaned one hand heavily on Brolio’s shoulder,
Speaker:and lantern-light glittered from the massive rings on his thick fingers. He slowly lowered his massive head so that his eyes were nearly level with the fox’s, and his musky, earthy scent -- along with
Speaker:the brandy and meat -- filled Brolio’s nose. He wobbled where he stood, even propped up as he was. "By all means,
Speaker:my lord," Brolio said. "And I would be a poor excuse for a trobodon indeed if I did not know it.
Speaker:it." The bear chuckled.
Speaker:"It is not a familiar song,"
Speaker:he said. "A trobodon knows many,
Speaker:many, many songs," Brolio replied.
Speaker:"What is it you wish to hear?"
Speaker:The bear grinned, and the arc of his swaying grew wider. "I beseech you to play 'The Duke and the
Speaker:Sea-Tuendy'
Speaker:if you can." He straightened
Speaker:and crossed his arms,
Speaker:his grin widening in expectant triumph,
Speaker:for Brolio had to admit that the song was
Speaker:uncommon. But it was one of the songs whose lyrics were fit to the tune of "The Lovers of Campotrile".
Speaker:Grinning back at the guild-master, Brolio plucked the opening rising run. Then he
Speaker:sang of a Duke and his encounter with a maiden of the sea, and their doomed love affair.
Speaker:The guild-master's eyes grew wide
Speaker:in surprised recognition,
Speaker:then he clapped and laughed,
Speaker:and finally joined in with his wheezy tenor.
Speaker:He could not keep a tune.
Speaker:As he played and sang,
Speaker:inspiration struck.
Speaker:Brolio realized that "The Lovers of Campotrile"
Speaker:was hardly the only song he knew with multiple
Speaker:sets of sometimes unrelated lyrics.
Speaker:Some were well-known, such as "Seven Maids at Play",
Speaker:but others were less so, such as the guild-master’s request.
Speaker:He considered the Duchess's admission that she was familiar with many of the songs of the Pearl Coast.
Speaker:How many? Would he be able to parlay this knowledge into an adequate warning?
Speaker:He played the final, falling run of the song, the opening in reverse.
Speaker:He struck the final note and held it,
Speaker:vibrato ringing out.
Speaker:Led by the guild-master, the group around him burst into enthusiastic applause.
Speaker:"Master," the bear said,
Speaker:"that was exquisite.
Speaker:exquisite." He held one hand out, close to Brolio's shoulder,
Speaker:as if he now feared to touch him,
Speaker:to disrupt the magic he had experienced.
Speaker:"I have not heard that song in many years,
Speaker:not since I sailed through the Island Kingdom.
Speaker:Kingdom." He pulled his hand back and covered his mouth. Brolio
Speaker:thought the bear might actually weep with joy and longing. "You have
Speaker:taken me back to my youth,"
Speaker:he said in a small voice.
Speaker:Brolio bowed. "You honor me, my lord,"
Speaker:he said. "I am pleased I could bring you such pleasure.
Speaker:pleasure." He gestured out at the rest of the Garden.
Speaker:"I must travel on, as a trobodon does, but I shall pass this way again.
Speaker:again." He winked. "As a trobodon does." #
Speaker:Leaving the guild-master and his companions, Brolio abandoned his meanderings
Speaker:and walked toward the Audience Stone.
Speaker:It was crowded with ambassadors, courtiers, and other esteemed personages
Speaker:talking amongst themselves.
Speaker:Sir Larno was speaking with a goat in a highly-decorated Uzbarcan military uniform.
Speaker:Is that Camelo? Brolio wondered.
Speaker:He sniffed the air,
Speaker:sorting through the aromas swirling about,
Speaker:and recognized the same grassy scent he encountered earlier.
Speaker:It was indeed the traitor.
Speaker:Behind Sir Larno, stood an older,
Speaker:solitary serval
Speaker:with graying fur
Speaker:and stooped shoulders, dressed in a red-and-black
Speaker:military uniform,
Speaker:glowering at the empty space around him.
Speaker:The ambassador from Puntorna,
Speaker:Brolio thought. Here to claim his master's prize.
Speaker:The fox suppressed a frown,
Speaker:but was further steeled to do all he could to thwart the traitors’ plot.
Speaker:The Duchess clapped, and the chatter stilled.
Speaker:"The sugar-tongued Brolio has arrived!" she called out,
Speaker:bright laughter filling her voice,
Speaker:and Brolio shivered with excitement to hear her speak his name.
Speaker:She rose from her divan and approached the edge of the Audience Stone and
Speaker:the others gathered behind her, curious about this new arrival.
Speaker:"How now, Master Trobodon?" The Duchess
Speaker:had changed her dress,
Speaker:but was still more beautiful than anything he could imagine.
Speaker:Her golden hair was piled high now, and covered with a pearl-bedecked net.
Speaker:A similar net enwrapped her tail.
Speaker:She wore pearl cluster earrings,
Speaker:and a long rope of pearls made several loops around her neck
Speaker:before falling across her bosom.
Speaker:Pearls likewise studded her golden crown,
Speaker:and a sapphire the size of the palm of Brolio’s hand was centered on her brow. Her gown consisted
Speaker:of layers of blue and white silk,
Speaker:elaborately pleated and bustled.
Speaker:The sapphire-and-pearl ring glittered on her right hand,
Speaker:and on her left she wore
Speaker:the solid gold Ducal ring of Uzbarco.
Speaker:Still more jewels sparkled on her other fingers. Brolio
Speaker:bowed deeply before
Speaker:her. "Your Grace honors me,"
Speaker:he said. "To perform at your feast has become
Speaker:the acme of my career."
Speaker:"My guests bring tales of your excellence among the groves," the Duchess said. "I am pleased, greatly indeed, to learn
Speaker:that my confidence in you has been realized.
Speaker:"Dare I hope that you have now come to perform for me?"
Speaker:She smiled at him,
Speaker:her piercing blue eyes shining.
Speaker:Brolio smiled back.
Speaker:"Your Grace, I am here to perform for you and your honored companions,
Speaker:and to perform a suite of songs such as I have never assembled before.
Speaker:The songs tell a tale,
Speaker:and yet a deeper story may be uncovered, if one cares to search.
Speaker:search." He spoke confidently,
Speaker:but his heart hammered and he wanted to pant in fear. Would she understand? Would she succeed in deciphering the deeper story? The guests watched him intently. Some whispered amongst themselves, discussing his announcement. The Duchess watched him
Speaker:with her ears pricked forward, giving him
Speaker:her full attention.
Speaker:As Brolio played the first notes of "The Lovers of Campotrile"
Speaker:she gasped in surprise,
Speaker:and others did besides,
Speaker:for he played them in the rapid manner of "Seven Maids at Play".
Speaker:Then he played the introduction again, in the manner of the more genteel song,
Speaker:and began to sing.
Speaker:But he did not sing the most familiar version of the song,
Speaker:choosing instead one of the alternate versions. The Duchess
Speaker:cocked her head,
Speaker:and grinned. Brolio knew she had recognized the alternate version,
Speaker:and his confidence in his plan grew.
Speaker:If only it lasts,
Speaker:he thought. # As he played the final descending run of "The Lovers of Campotrile",
Speaker:the assembled group applauded and he
Speaker:bowed his head in return.
Speaker:"My next song was composed
Speaker:just this day," he said.
Speaker:"It is dedicated to the Duchess Trella,
Speaker:and is entitled
Speaker:'Hill House Chimes'.
Speaker:Chimes'." The buzz of conversation rose at the novelty of hearing an original tune.
Speaker:Brolio struck the first chord,
Speaker:then sprang into the chiming runs he had devised that afternoon.
Speaker:As he played, wearing the trobodon's energetic smile,
Speaker:he surveyed the group before him.
Speaker:The Duchess watched him, an eyebrow raised. Sir Larno idly watched him as well,
Speaker:but his round otter face showed that he was not paying much attention.
Speaker:Camelo was speaking with a tall mare with an elaborately braided mane and tail,
Speaker:one of the Duchess's ladies-in-waiting.
Speaker:The Puntornese ambassador continued to glower,
Speaker:his ears flat against his head,
Speaker:his eyes angry slits,
Speaker:and his tail barely bristling.
Speaker:The other guests continued to avoid him in return.
Speaker:Brolio’s audience applauded the final chord of the instrumental,
Speaker:but he began the next song,
Speaker:"The Maiden Missed",
Speaker:without introduction.
Speaker:After performing "Sir Ortzi and the Kapallver"
Speaker:and then "Vilagrim"
Speaker:on the biwehla, he brought out his Caitavere flute for an interpretation of
Speaker:"Along the Banks of the Ambile" where
Speaker:he alternated playing with singing a capella.
Speaker:As he performed this song,
Speaker:the Duchess called a page over and spoke into her ear.
Speaker:With a bow, the youth
Speaker:dashed off. Brolio's heart lifted
Speaker:to think that the Duchess had realized the deeper story he was trying to convey.
Speaker:Following the song he acknowledged the acclaim of his audience, bowing with a flourish.
Speaker:Other guests had drifted to the Audience Stone to hear him,
Speaker:and the whole area was now crowded with people.
Speaker:"It pleases me to learn you are pleased," he said to them all.
Speaker:"There is more to come."
Speaker:"Are you thirsty?" the Duchess asked.
Speaker:"Please, partake of refreshment.
Speaker:refreshment." The same page she had dispatched appeared
Speaker:at his elbow, with a pitcher of chilled water
Speaker:flavored with orange slices.
Speaker:"I admit I am," Brolio said.
Speaker:He hid his disappointment at the swift return of the page beneath his performer's exterior
Speaker:and accepted a goblet.
Speaker:Has my plan failed? he thought.
Speaker:He drank slowly, considering his options.
Speaker:How long until midnight and the fireworks display?
Speaker:The Duchess needed to learn his meaning before then,
Speaker:to begin the defense of her nation, but he could see no path other than the one he now
Speaker:traveled. I have plowed the furrows, he thought.
Speaker:I must plant the seeds and
Speaker:hope for the harvest.
Speaker:He tucked the flute back into his belt, and spent some moments tuning his biwhela before striking a chord.
Speaker:The Duchess was watching him,
Speaker:her tail swaying
Speaker:and her ears pricked forward.
Speaker:"We continue on," he said with a grin, and played "The Road
Speaker:from Eiabaen". His fingers flew up and down the instrument’s neck as he played the rapid song,
Speaker:low notes followed by high, then back again without transition.
Speaker:It borrowed styling from the music of the Northern Kingdoms, in which the song was set.
Speaker:Finishing with a chord fellow southerners usually found discordant,
Speaker:Brolio began his next song, "Meeting in the Sunset".
Speaker:Only two more songs remained in his concocted suite.
Speaker:After that, I must warn her plainly, he thought.
Speaker:This song was dreamy,
Speaker:more rhythmic, and he slowly strummed the chords as he sang.
Speaker:In the middle of the second verse,
Speaker:the Puntornese ambassador interrupted.
Speaker:"It's a message!" he shouted. "Larno, Camelo,
Speaker:now!
Speaker:Now!" Brolio had not been watching the sour-faced serval, and cursed himself for it.
Speaker:Light glinted off something in the ambassador's hand, a knife he had drawn from some secret sheath,
Speaker:and even as every head turned toward him the old man moved for the Duchess,
Speaker:hissing and spitting.
Speaker:Brolio leapt forward, crying "Treason! The Steward is a traitor!"
Speaker:With all his might, he struck Sir Larno beneath his snout with his biwhela.
Speaker:The strings snapped and twanged and the body boomed as it cracked, but the trobodon
Speaker:had no time to regret the disservice he had done.
Speaker:The crowd surged away from the violence,
Speaker:screaming and shouting,
Speaker:braying and barking at the sudden chaos.
Speaker:Brolio shoved the Steward back among the others and turned for the ambassador,
Speaker:but the serval was laid out on his back
Speaker:and the Duchess was nursing her right hand.
Speaker:The knife lay at her feet.
Speaker:"I have studied more than music,"
Speaker:she said to Brolio,
Speaker:and flashed him a quick grin.
Speaker:"Now, where is Captain Deselcusta?"
Speaker:The traitorous Captain Camelo Deselcusta
Speaker:had fled the Audience Stone,
Speaker:but before a search could begin he reappeared
Speaker:out of the trees,
Speaker:flanked by two soldiers
Speaker:and trailed by another.
Speaker:It has begun after all,
Speaker:he thought. I have failed.
Speaker:He turned towards the Duchess, who was regarding the goat with a mixture of pity and anger.
Speaker:"Forgive me, Your Grace," the fox began.
Speaker:The Duchess held up one hand to still Brolio.
Speaker:The third soldier stepped forward,
Speaker:the lynx from the front gate.
Speaker:At the same time, one of the others prodded the Captain forward with the butt of his musket.
Speaker:"Well?" the Duchess said.
Speaker:The sergeant ducked his head.
Speaker:"There were two men on the roof of the tower, Your Grace, preparing a signal rocket.
Speaker:When confronted, they confessed immediately. We are moving on the others now, though they claim to control the Windlass Tower.
Speaker:Tower." The goat tried to speak, but the Duchess silenced him.
Speaker:"You have nothing to say, Camelo.
Speaker:Sergeant, deliver these three to confinement.
Speaker:Separate them, and guard them carefully.”
Speaker:The soldiers roughly roused the Steward and the ambassador,
Speaker:then took them away.
Speaker:"You understood my message!" Brolio said to the Duchess. "I fretted that you would not." The Duchess smiled wanly. "You concoct devious puzzles, Master Trobodon,"
Speaker:she said. "And yet I was not the only one to decipher it." Brolio sighed and shook his head. "I had not anticipated such a thing, but I am relieved
Speaker:you managed it first." "Not more so than I," the Duchess
Speaker:said with a weak laugh.
Speaker:"But I doubtless had an advantage, hinted at by your quote of 'Seven Maids at Play' and the alternate version of 'The Lovers of Campotrile'.
Speaker:Still, your knowledge of the songs of the south severely taxed my own.
Speaker:own." One of the Duchess's ladies-in-waiting approached,
Speaker:a lean hound with a muzzle nearly as pointed as the Duchess’s own.
Speaker:"Begging Your Grace's pardon," she asked.
Speaker:"How did you glean any message at all from those songs?"
Speaker:"Each had a secret meaning, Katola," the Duchess replied.
Speaker:"I was intrigued by Master Brolio's announcement that a deeper story may be uncovered,
Speaker:so I listened carefully, considering each song he performed.
Speaker:"He began with the opening to a song I know he would never perform at a function such as this.
Speaker:That caught my attention,
Speaker:and he followed with an alternate interpretation of the true song.
Speaker:I surmised that the hidden message might be buried in alternatives to the songs he sang." Brolio nodded.
Speaker:"That is just what I'd hoped you might divine,"
Speaker:he said. Katola looked from the Duchess to Brolio,
Speaker:then back to her mistress,
Speaker:her pointed hound’s ears lifted in curiosity.
Speaker:"But what were the songs?
Speaker:How did you know what they meant?"
Speaker:"After 'The Lovers of Campotrile',
Speaker:the next song was his original,"
Speaker:the Duchess said. "I took that to mean the story would involve Casolina, or perhaps Uzbarco.
Speaker:Uzbarco." She chuckled. "I was over-general in my estimation.
Speaker:"Each song Master Brolio played shares its tune
Speaker:with another," she told Katola.
Speaker:"Mostly tragic ballads regarding betrayal
Speaker:or battles." She turned to Brolio,
Speaker:her ice-blue eyes boring into him.
Speaker:"How did you learn of this plot? Duke Smolno's
Speaker:proposals have grown increasingly belligerent, and I knew Sir Larno was conservative in his outlook,
Speaker:but I did not see them stooping to an act such as this."
Speaker:Brolio explained his sojourn in the Garden,
Speaker:and what he had learned.
Speaker:"Fortuitous it was that Larno found you and brought you to us,"
Speaker:the Duchess said.
Speaker:"He wrecked his own enterprise,
Speaker:but you have done Uzbarco, and me specifically,
Speaker:a great service." At that moment,
Speaker:the first rockets burst high above, flowers of blue and white spread across the night sky.
Speaker:"Midnight," Brolio said, looking up.
Speaker:"What will happen now?" The Duchess sighed.
Speaker:"There will be war,"
Speaker:she said, her voice heavy with sadness.
Speaker:"This cannot be ignored.
Speaker:Puntorna is no favorite among the Ducal States, but has allies,
Speaker:nonetheless. Uzbarco must arrange a coalition in our interests.
Speaker:interests." The sergeant had returned.
Speaker:"You are Captain of the Palace Guard now, Rombol,"
Speaker:the Duchess said to him.
Speaker:"Fetch the Marshal,
Speaker:and I will have orders drawn up for you both.
Speaker:both." She sighed again and stepped to a refreshments table.
Speaker:Her hands shook as she lifted a goblet to her muzzle and drank.
Speaker:Looking down, the Duchess whined softly. "Brolio, your biwhela...." So surprised was Brolio to hear
Speaker:her call him by his name
Speaker:only that he failed to notice the mournful tone she took,
Speaker:and it took another moment to realize she stood above his ruined
Speaker:instrument. Above them the fireworks continued,
Speaker:rockets and shells bursting and filling the night with rolling thunder and sparkling lightning.
Speaker:He cleared his throat.
Speaker:"Ah, yes," he said. "Unfortunate,
Speaker:but I would do it again without hesitation.
Speaker:What is the loss of a thing,
Speaker:compared to a life?"
Speaker:In truth, he ached seeing his wrecked biwhela. He had carried it nearly two decades,
Speaker:and it had just been part of his greatest performance.
Speaker:But his words were true,
Speaker:and he would sacrifice it again.
Speaker:The Duchess turned to him, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and affection.
Speaker:"What is a trobodon without his instrument?
Speaker:You shall have a replacement,
Speaker:from the Payadsul's own collection, if you find one you deem worthy." Brolio bowed as deeply as he had at any time this day.
Speaker:"You honor me once again, Your Grace.
Speaker:You have been far too kind to a wanderer such as myself."
Speaker:"You need not wander any time soon,"
Speaker:the Duchess replied.
Speaker:"The roads along the Pearl Coast will become dangerous soon,
Speaker:filled with campaigning armies.
Speaker:You have chambers here,
Speaker:and you are welcome as long as you like.
Speaker:"And," she said, the piercing sparkle returning to her clear blue eyes,
Speaker:"I have always wanted to learn the biwhela."This
Speaker:was
Speaker:the second
Speaker:and final part of
Speaker:“Songs in the Garden” by Matt Trepal,
Speaker:read for you by READER, with CALLSIGN.
Speaker:As always, you can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,
Speaker:or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.
Speaker:Thank you for listening
Speaker:to The Voice of Dog.
