The White Horse Inn, Act II

[Idgian]

It was a trick Madi learnt during his time on the streets. He discovered it one hot summer’s day whilst he hid among beggars and rubbish, steering clear of those his ugliness angered. He saw a lizard scaling a wall and was transfixed by the little creature’s ability to search for food with one eye, while the other kept watch for predators. With both eyes moving independently to each other, the lizard had all angles covered, defensively and offensively. Madi instantly recognised the potential benefits of learning such a trick, especially in his position. So he taught he eyes to be like the lizards.

And now, as Berry and the Old One spoke across the table, Madi became fed up with the dizzying motion sickness looking from one to the other gave him, and employed the trick. His eyes slowly separated and he assigned one to each lady.

Satisfied now, Madi reached up and took his clay mug of milk from the table, lifting it to his mouth hidden in his hood. Master Jian had once told him that when women spoke it was called ‘yimmer-yammer’, and rarely was it worth listening to. So he didn’t, and drank the safely white-coloured milk in blissful ignorance.

As he drank, he frowned the brow above the eye on Berry. Blue was not her colour. But the amber ball was lost now and the Old One was angry because of that. Or was she? In fact, Madi was quite sure how he ended up pulling the cart, but he was glad for the blue satin bolt. It meant Berry received what she asked for, even if it was quite clearly the wrong thing. It also meant Madi was free to slip away and search for the lost amber ball. It was still around, close by, somewhere. He kept catching its scent very vaguely, but the smell of the flowers inside the inn was heady and overpowering. Perhaps he should . . .

Madi stopped drinking as his other eye noticed the Old One looking at him. He held the clay mug in place and slowly drew his eyes together, remaining absolutely motionless. She was frowning as if he had done something wrong.

“Madi!” said Bethberry, a little exasperated. “Ruthven is talking to you. Don’t be rude.”

Madi turned to the landlady. He hadn’t been listening to a thing. The Old One had obviously said something to him, and was supposed to know what. But he didn’t. He offered Berry his milk with an uncertain grin. Perhaps that would do instead.

Bethberry rolled her eyes, took the half empty mug from Madi’s small hands and placed it on the table. Then, with gentle movements, she slowly pushed back the little man’s hood. Madi’s breath caught and panic froze him. He looked imploringly into Bethberry’s eyes, but she softly held his hands down when he tried to keep the hood in place. With slow, encouraging movements, Bethberry pushed the hood back and turned Madi to face Ruthven.

Madi closed his eyes and waited for the moment when his senses were invaded by the colour red: the colour of danger. Then he would have to run from angry people yet again. Any moment now there would be shouts and curses, and then he would take flight and be gone from this good place. Berry didn’t understand. Ugly faces frightened people. She new what he looked like and didn’t care, it was different for her. She was like Master Jian. The Old One might see his face then attack him and strangle him. She might tell others to chase him down and kick him. She might . . . she might . . .

To Madi’s surprised his nose wasn’t filled with the smell of red. Nor were there any sounds of sharply in-taken breath, or angry accusations. The only sensation to greet Madi’s anxiety was a finger, tickling him under the chin, and the light scent of white in the air. Without opening his eyes, he gave a crooked grin, and chuckled throatily. It wasn’t Berry’s finger; it was the Old One’s. He’d met another good person. Not since Master Jian had he felt this safe and among friends. Berry had found him some nice.

Revealing in the safe sensation he rocked back on his heels, lost his balance, and fell flat on his back.

Bethberry and Ruthven quickly stood over the little fallen figure. Oblivious to their presence, Madi continued to chuckle, arms and legs flailing about, his eyes squeezed shut.

“He’ll do,” Ruthven laughed. “I’ll take him with me the rest of the day. Maybe tomorrow also.”

Bethberry shook her head. “Are you sure you know what you’re letting yourself in for?”

“Aye,” she said. “I’ve got ways of keeping our little man under control. Best that people see him for what he is. It’s the only way he’ll get known and accepted.”

Bethberry pursed her lips at the writhing figure on the floor. “What do you think, Madi?” Her question was met with more obliviously happy squirming. “Madi!” she said sternly.

Madi stopped all motion and opened his eyes at the sound of Berry’s raised voice. He looked up into her face with a questioning stare. He could smell a light green colour. Berry was unsure about something.

“What do you say?” Bethberry repeated, and chuckled at Madi’s blank face. “To mine and Ruthven’s idea?” she prompted.

Madi shrugged. “Yimmer-yammer,” he replied.