A Cast of Corbies - Chapter Eleven

[kalinara]

So last time, the book kind of remembered there was an over-arching plot? Sort of. I suppose it's a mild complaint, compared to certain other issues (*cough*Magpie*cough*) but I can't help but a little cheated.



The idea of someone taking over leadership of the Free Bards and exploring what that actually means was really interesting to me. Unfortunately, leadership of the Free Bards apparently means absolutely nothing. Everyone went their separate ways and we're following one particular group in a theatre. The fact that Raven is ostensibly Taliesin's successor has not come up once. And it probably should be relevant given the power struggle within the group.

Because that's the bizarre thing about Magpie. Not only has she pushed for control of a group that's involved with a very specific assignment that requires talents that she, apparently doesn't actually possess (i.e. composing and arranging music) but she'd done while the theoretical leader of the entire Free Bards IS ALSO IN THE GROUP.

It also says something that no one seems to be aware that Taliesin named Raven his successor to begin with.

A lot of this probably could have worked if Magpie were a newcomer to the group, like Jaysen or Rune had been in the Lark and the Wren. Then it might be a lot more understandable that the woman seems to have no idea how to work with other people or how relevant experience actually works. But that's supposedly not the case. So..yeah.

I don't think the storyline involving the playhouse and local politics is bad, mind you. It's actually pretty interesting in its own right. But it's not the story I was hoping for, and since Raven, again, theoretically is Taliesin's successor, it seems like a strong indication that we'll never see the story I was hoping for. (Honestly, I feel like it'd have made more sense to make Nightingale the successor instead. Given that she's been more prominently involved with the crises in multiple books.)

Of course, to be fair, this book was meant to be the first in a side series, so maybe there would have been a sequel that addressed this. But, let's put it this way, I'm NOT surprised that said sequel never happened.

But let's get started.

We're back at the theater. Apparently the frequent presence of the street preacher is starting to get to the performers. Understandable. Kingsford isn't quite the religious dominated hellhole that Gradford was in the Robin and the Kestrel, but the Church is pretty scarily influential. And while Arden has a vested interest in making sure his mistress's theater does well, that could also mean that his enemies could decide to target her to get at him.

Magpie is of course very empathetic to their concerns:

“I don’t like it,” someone mumbled. Raven saw, somewhat to his surprise, that the voice belonged to the nameless illusionist; until this very moment, the scrawny youngster had been as taciturn as Crow. In fact, Raven realized, up to this point he hadn’t even known the man could talk! The illusionist reddened when everyone turned his way, but continued darkly, “People are starting to listen to him.”

“Oh, nonsense,” Magpie snapped. “They’re listening not because they believe a thing he’s saying-I’ll bet you anything you want half of them couldn’t repeat one word of it-but only because he’s providing something we’ll be able to provide them in much better style: live theater.”

“Easy for you to say,” the illusionist muttered, scowling. “You’re not the one in danger. I’m the one who’s working magic. I’m the one they’ll cart off first.”

Point to the illusionist.

I'm probably being unfair to Magpie here, because I think her cranky disagreement here is more about keeping the group calm and reassured rather than just being a b-word for no reason.

Regina's better at being reassuring, asserting that no one's getting carted off, and the foolishness will end once the play opens and everyone sees that it's harmless fun - much more fun than standing around and listening to a ranting priest. But to get there, they have to get to work.

That might depend on how sensitive the Church is to gender-bending marriage farce humor, I suppose. I mean Shakespeare does tend to get a pass. Now. But I'm not sure that was always historically true. There's a reason that men tended to play most theatre roles at different periods in history.

Speaking of Shakespeare, Raven mangles a quote when agreeing with Regina:

“Point well taken,” Raven said. “Once more into the fray, dear friends.”

“Nicely said,” came a voice from the rear of the theater. “A bit scrambled on the quotation, perhaps, but nicely declaimed, and well chosen.”

Raven turned in surprise. “Ah, my lord Duke. I didn’t see you enter.”

The Duke grinned up at all of them. “I can move quietly when I wish. And swiftly. Don’t stand there staring at me, everyone. To work, all of you!”

Raven, refusing to be cowed by authority, gave the man a low, melodramatically intricate bow. As he took his place with the other musicians in their onstage alcove, he was frowning slightly. Odd, very odd. After their performance in the ducal palace, Arden had begun showing up at the theater rather frequently.

They do have a rather interesting vibe. In a universe more catered to my taste, this book's main romance would be Raven/Regina/Arden.

Anyway, Raven's a bit puzzled by Arden's increased interest in the theater. Apparently he's been coming by more often since the performance in the palace. Raven of course appreciates that Arden likes watching his mistress shine, but he thinks this is a little out of proportion.

He does admit that everyone's a little brittle and tense though. The weird accidents have stopped, but everyone's kind of waiting for the next bad thing to happen.

It is interesting that Raven doesn't consider jealousy as a motive. But there are a lot of other things going on, and while Raven does find Regina attractive, he's been pretty clear all along that he's not interested in a romantic relationship with her.

And actually, the Raven-Regina relationship is one of the stronger aspects of the book. It's something that I don't really see in a lot of the novels I read. I mean, there are books with male-female friendships and mutual respect - I'd bring up Taliesin and Gwyna in the Lark and the Wren even. But neither character is really the lead of that book - title aside, so it's less prominent.

And generally even when you do have a major platonic relationship, there's a romantic plot that gets more focus.

Here though, I think Raven-and-Regina are the most prominent relationship in the story. Maybe it's simply because the Raven-and-Magpie relationship is so mishandled. And the fact that, aside from making snarky comments, Magpie really doesn't seem to have much of a role in this story at all.

So lets tangent into that rant. Because while I've complained about Magpie's attitude in the past, I don't know that I've gotten into my REAL problem with the character.

She gets ONE scene where she suddenly becomes close friends with Regina - close enough that Regina, a woman in a position that requires diplomacy and discretion, suddenly seems inclined to yell at a man for being a bad boyfriend to a woman he's not romantically involved with - but they've had no real interaction before or sense.

She took over the boardinghouse which had a brief appearance last chapter so she could have an "oh no she's hot" moment. But nothing beyond that. We don't really have any idea how she feels about the theater, any of the major players IN the theatre, her fellow Free Bards even. Does she have any relationships at all? What about Jaysen or Crow?

We know she finds Raven attractive - which she expresses through racist objectification, and otherwise seems inclined to hate everything about him. But that's all we get.

What does Magpie actually like? Who does she get along with? We know her backstory - more of her backstory than any other character in fact, except possibly Regina, but it's not like any of it really MEANS anything to the general storyline. Except a reason for why Magpie is the way she is.

But it's not like Magpie's long lost family members are in this theatre troupe. So there's only so much relevance to her backstory. And when it comes to the story that's actually in front of us, I really can't see that she's any more significant than Jaysen or Crow. And that's a waste.

So far, at least, this story would read almost exactly the same if she wasn't here. Except we wouldn't have those moments when Raven is unhappy because his teammate/subordinate/whatever seems to hate his existence when she's not lusting after him.

Well, we've got eleven more chapters, so there's always a chance that could change. Here's hoping.

--

It might help if maybe some of the roles were consolidated, it occurs to me, like this here:

‘The illusionist doesn’t look like he’s going to last till Opening Day,” Nightjar murmured to the other musicians. “I mean, look at the man! He’s so high-strung he’s going to snap like a guitar string. I swear he’s worried off so much weight there’s hardly any meat left on him. And his hands are shaking so much I’m surprised he can cast any illusions at all!”

“Nerves,” Crow muttered. “Be all right when the play opens.”

Magpie shook her head. “It’s more than that, I think. He’s so scared the Church is going to get him, he’s worked himself to the edge of hysteria.”

Nightjar's had a few peanut gallery lines. But what if we gave that bit of dialogue to Magpie? She was the one who set the poor guy off, so it would make some sense for her to react to that. She understands enough to correct Crow afterward, so what if she were the one to express the empathy first?

It wouldn't fix everything, but it would maybe increase the impression that she has some investment with the play/performers off page.

Magpie turns out to be right in her prediction, because if she can't be signficant to the story, she can at least be right. About a week before Opening Day, the illusionist suddenly freaks out and tries to quit.

It's pretty understandable:

Spare me the stupid sentiment,” the boy spat back, hysterically. “You don’t have to listen to that-that vicious, evil preacher every day; you don’t have to see him stare into your eyes as though he knows perfectly well who and what you are and is just waiting to see you burn!”

“We wouldn’t let—”

The mage cut him short. “Oh, you’d protect me, would you? As if you could! What a lie!”

“It’s not—”

“A lie!” the illusionist shrieked. “You don’t have to see the suspicion in everyone’s eyes here, either! You don’t care what happens to me! If you needed a scapegoat, you’d gladly throw me to them! You all think I’m the one who caused all those accidents, don’t you? Well, don’t you?”

Raven tries to help calm the situation, pointing out that the accidents weren't illusions and that they know the difference. But the illusionist is too freaked and he bolts away. Poor guy.

But hey, Magpie does get a moment here:

“We’ll just have to manage without his illusions,” Regina said softly.

“That’s right,” Magpie added. “We never really needed them anyway, not really. Oh, don’t give me those sorrowful looks! What are you, true actors or just children who need pretty tricks to cover up the fact that you really can’t act?”

That sparked more than a few angry mutters, but she continued fiercely, “Actors, is it? You’ve decided on that? Then stop complaining! If between your performance and our music we can’t make the audience believe exactly what we want them to believe, then there’s something very much the matter with us all!”

And Raven is particularly appreciative: She wasn’t a Regina, Raven thought, grinning, to dazzle everyone with glamorie, but at least she’d gotten everyone back to work!

I mean, it's something!

But the lack of special effects is a problem. We get some world building here though:

Even so, he had to admit after they’d run through the formerly “moonlit” scene, it just wasn’t quite the same without the illusion. What a shame that those lantern-like footlights couldn’t cast a convincingly cool white light, no matter what colored-paper filters were placed in front of them. And what a shame there was no safe way to cast light down on the stage from somewhere up in the rafters. Raven had heard tales all his life of strange contrivances, most of them created by the mysterious race known as the Deliambrens, that allowed for such wonders-but such things were horribly expensive, and the Deliambrens were loath to part with them. Some [Roma] he knew, like Robin, had been privileged to see them, and to see their near-magical fortress-city, but most, like him, had only heard the rumors. And how could one find Deliambren lightbringers at such notice, anyway? Might as well wish for the moon itself. But the next day, Duke Arden arrived practically radiating secret delight. “We have our moonlight,” he declared without preamble, signaling to some of his blue-clad servants. “Be careful with those! They were costly as the devil,” he added to the puzzled actors, “but if they work, they’ll be worth the expense.”

I like the world building, and continuity with Robin, but it is a little rambly and incoherent. Maybe Raven has ADHD?

But hey, Duke Arden gets to be helpful. I appreciate his enthusiasm and I rather like the idea that he's becoming invested in the theatre in its own right, not just through Regina.

So the interesting thing is that these new lanterns don't need candles. They're actually lit by sunlight. And the pigeon boy can help with that. Oh hey, just in case I was starting to get interested in Raven and Magpie again...

Raven laughed. “Hardly! But—” He stopped short, staring. Up till now, he could have sworn that the slight, lithe figure scampering its way down from the rafters was a boy, maybe one about twelve years old. But as the figure came closer, Raven caught the glint of scales. “What is that?”

“Haven’t you ever seen a Tilsani?” Magpie’s voice was disgustingly smug.

“Of course I have,” Raven insisted. “I was just startled for a moment, that’s all.”

“Of course,” she echoed.

“I have done a fair amount of travelling, you know,” he said indignantly.

“Am I denying it?” she asked smoothly. Ach, no arguing with the woman! Raven watched the Tilsani lightly leap the last few feet to the floor of the pit, then scurry forward. Like a lizard caught in the middle of turning to a human!

...why are you like this, Magpie? Why?

I suppose I'm supposed to read into the fact that Raven cares enough about her mockery to be indignant, despite being a grown man with more experience who could just shrug off her nonsense. But honestly, it just makes me dislike the pairing more. Date someone who doesn't make you feel like you have to defend your own experiences, dude.

It's not like this dynamic can't work. I've watched my share of anime and I even have some rival/antagonistic ships myself. But there's an element that really isn't translating here, and I'm not sure what it is.

I just really want Magpie to go away.

Anyway, Duke Arden was "as casual as though he saw the lizard-like people every day." Which is a strange descriptor that makes it sound like Raven was actually compensating for his shock/inexperience with non-humans. Except that two paragraphs ago, we JUST had a rambly monologue about Roma relations with non-humans. Even if Raven doesn't personally have a lot of experience, it's still generally a lot more than most city-born folk.

I'm also not sure why Magpie gets to be the unflappable one. What relationship with non-humans has she had? We KNOW her angsty backstory after all.

I do wonder if this scene might have worked better from Magpie's point of view. It could elaborate on whether Magpie has any experience with non-humans - whether she's genuinely unaffected or whether she's posturing and mocking Raven to hide her own startlement.

I don't know. It's just off putting.

Anyway, the Tilsani nods and dashes away. Per the Manager, the guy is mute and possibly not right in the head, though "it's difficult to always be sure about a non-human". He does say the Tilsani is reliable.

So anyway, the devices are Deliambren after all, and when placed in the ceiling, they do catch sunlight and create the glowing moon effect. It's somehow keyed to human warmth and a trigger phrase (one that's already in the play's dialogue). Duke Arden gets a well-deserved moment of triumph here.

And I rather love this bit:

Regina did-and the lights promptly beamed yellow radiance down onto the stage. She burst into delighted wonder. “This is marvelous!”

“It is, isn’t it?” the Duke agreed, and beamed as brightly as the lights. Then he turned to the Stage Manager with an arch grin. “Of course-now you are going to have to somehow write ‘the bright sun’ and ‘the glowing moon’ into every one of your plays to justify my horrendous expenditure!”

The Stage Manager only cast his eyes up, as if asking for patience from on high.

Hey, if Magpie weren't here, do you think we'd be able to give more page time to these guys. They're funny!

So things move forward. Duke Arden keeps showing up, and Raven decides to bite the bullet and ask the Manager what's going on.

The Manager "can only surmise" but he knows that there are some Royal Advisers that will be secretly attending the premiere. The Duke must make sure that "his Company" looks legitimate rather than simply a toy for his favorite mistress.

Appearances and politics again.

There's more to it though. Because there are rumors about Regina.

Now that took him completely by surprise. “What do you mean? We all know she’s absolutely faithful to the Duke, lucky man, and that he adores her.”

“That’s just it. You see …” the Manager hesitated a moment more, then said, so softly that Raven could hardly hear him,”… the rumors claim that Regina is a sorceress.”

Raven had to stifle his yelp. “What!”

“Yes,” the Manager nodded, sweat standing out on his forehead, “and that she has enthralled our Duke to the point that he will give her anything.”

This is a setting where magic exists after all. Raven thinks the accusation is ridiculous, but the Manager takes it seriously.

I like this exchange too:

Raven could not help himself. He snorted. “Oh, that’s ridiculous!”

“Not really.” The Stage Manager’s gloomy expression convinced Raven as nothing else could have. “If the Company turns out to be a failure, that will, the rumormongers claim, prove them right. And that, of course, would disgrace Duke Arden beyond redemption.”

“It wouldn’t be so good for Regina, either!” Raven said sardonically.

Because yeah, the Duke is facing humiliation, but Regina is facing much worse than that. At best, she'd be cast off. At worst, maybe a trial for sorcery. Egads.

Now, we do know that magic exists in this world, so maybe they can acquit her. We've met some good mage-priests in the Lark and the Wren after all: Ardis and that nameless priest who identified what happened to Gwyna. They'd probably be able to determine that Regina is innocent.

But that's assuming they got a "good" mage-priest to do the evaluation. And assuming that Regina doesn't have magic after all. Remember, Raven DID notice something about her in the past. Would even a "good" mage-priest be able to differentiate having a power from using it?

So maybe that poor illusionist wasn't jumping at shadows after all. Raven's a little freaked out himself.

If the play goes well, then everything should be fine. The Duke's reputation will be saved and enhanced. And no accusations of magic-use. But it does give more motives for someone to try to sabotage everything.

So Raven then decides to go confront Regina about the rumors. She tries to prevaricate but then admits that the Manager is probably right.

And well, social elements are complicated. Because Regina is as self-centered as everyone else:

Her gaze dropped. “I … have to admit it,” the woman murmured. “He’s probably right.”

“Dear sweet gods of music,” Raven breathed.

“It’s not that bad, Raven,” she said hastily. “The Duke isn’t going to let anything happen to me-or to himself.”

Raven bit back what he’d been about to blurt out. Oh, true, he hardly wanted to see her in the Church’s grip, and Duke Arden, nobleman or not, seemed too decent a fellow for such a fate, either. But they weren’t the only ones in peril! If Regina was charged with sorcerous intent, the entire Company could, only too easily, be taken with the very same charge! His thoughts ran round and round like frightened little mice.

And that's a fair point too. Regina's the one most at risk, but she's not the only one at risk. And hey, the book finally decides to acknowledge the racism element in the room in the last paragraph of the chapter.

Ach, yes, what an easy jump of illogic that would make for those narrow, hating little minds. Why not condemn us all? Actors and musicians are considered lower than low anyhow!

Worse, still worse, two of the Company, he and Crow, were [Roma]-and all those nice, Churchgoing idiots who accepted everything their priest might tell them already believed [Roma] practiced every type of sorcery! They’ll burn the lot of us! Like hell they would. First, Raven told himself sharply, they have to catch us! And if we can only stick together they’re not going to be able to do that. Oh, right. Perfect unity. With a feud the size of an icy river running between himself and Magpie. I should never have let it go on for so long. But, one way or another, Raven decided fiercely, it’s not going on any longer!

...I appreciate the acknowledgment, for once, that as Roma, Raven and Crow are in a trickier situation than the others. Exotic foreigners are really easy targets for this kind of thing.

At the same time, I'm irked at the characterization of Raven and Magpie's dynamic as a "feud" because a feud is two sided. And that's not what we've seen in this book.

And it makes me pretty uneasy about how this damn "feud" is supposed to be resolved, because with the exception of one chapter, Raven's been trying to be reasonable all along.

If this ends up with Raven standing up for himself, good. If it ends up with him groveling, I'm going to be very annoyed. I guess we'll see next week.