In the Service of Venus and Mars
Musicians at the War
by Rufina Cambrensis

Hot dawned the day and clear, when we readied ourselves for the journey
west.  Thrice did we pack our waggon, after finding that first one
thing and then another would not fit.  At last all was in readiness,
and we set forth in the heat of the noonday sun.

After our arrival we located our camp.  Fortunately Duke Cariadoc and
some of our boon companions were there before us, and we had no
difficulty in finding stout arms and sturdy backs to help raise our
tent.  We then supped by lanternlight, and went to bed lulled to sleep
by an army of doumbeks.

Upon the morrow, after our ablutions, we were greeted by His Grace, who
tersely asked, "How many shawms are in camp?"  When we answered,
"Three," he said, "Good.  We will be armed in case hostilities arise
between us and the doumbeks across the street..."

Our first commission!

The days were full of rehearsal, about which little need be said save
that practice at night makes strings go out of tune, and practice
during the heat of the day makes players go out of temper, but several
were the performances we engaged in, and many the wonders that we saw
and heard when not playing.

Monday was the helm show for a passage-at-arms, and the Woodland Waites
(the band of loud instruments that practices in Rusted Woodlands) had
been hired to play for the dancing afterward, so we gathered our
shawms, cornets, tabors, and the like and hied ourselves hence for the
festivities.

We found the barn full of fair folk, for full many a warrior had
brought a retinue, all splendidly apparelled.  The helms on display
were decorated most gorgeously and fancifully, from the helm arrayed in
peacock feathers until it rivalled the sun in splendor, to the helm
crested with a likeness of the Heart in Love's service.  When folk had
finished admiring the helms, the dancing began, and the dancers were
amazed that so few players could fill the barn with such a brave
noise.

On Wednesday, we switched from loud instruments to soft, and Mistress
Theodora and Lady Amelie, two boon companions from the Midrealm, joined
us in serenading the assemblage of nobles at the Eastrealm Barons'
Dinner in the Ostgardr camp.  In spite of the havoc the damp evening
air played upon viol strings, we played valiantly along, and were paid
most bounteously by the cooks afterward.  Full astonished were we at
the array of tempting dishes, and we marvelled at the skill of Lady
Andrea and the Moose Guard in assembling such a fine feast on such
short notice (the quondam cook, Lord G. Adamantius, being regrettably
absent).  Would that more folk would reward their musicians so well!

Come Thursday we took our instruments to the barn yet again for the
Polyphonic Challenge, where we were privileged to hear many fine
singers and players from Aethelmearc, Atlantia, and the East.  Against
all odds, our Woodland Waites took first place in  Instrumental
Performance.  Evidently the judges view loud bands playing in tune as
like unto a dog walking upright:  a marvel, not in that it is done
well, but in that it is done at all.  Divers folk did tell us that we
played better in tune this year than last, and we took some solace in
that.

That evening we made it home while the storytellers were still holding
forth at the campfire.  It was our great good fortune to hear Richard
de Lacy, a young mariner from Carolingia, deliver a spirited and
spellbinding retelling of the ancient tale of Sir Gawaine and Dame
Ragnell.  When Richard finished, Cariadoc thanked him and gave him a
silver arm ring,  The young man took this as a great honor, and we were
glad to see so worthy a storyteller rewarded thus.

Friday evening brought the Known World Choir concert.  The choristers,
after many weary afternoons of practice, rallied their spirits and
gifted their audience with a concord of sweet sound.  Any protests of
faulty skill from Lady Anabel must be summarily ignored:  in spite of
her worries, she acquitted herself most nobly and the altos would have
been the poorer for her absence.

After the concert, the Waites hastened to Eastrealm Royal encampment to
play.  Upon arrival we learned that we were to play from the tops of
the twin battlements of the gate.  We were some deal uneasy, not having
rehearsed in such a milieu, but it turned out to be rare good sport.

At last, our commissions executed, we could take our ease.  In sooth,
we had managed some furtive bouts of ninepins, shuttlecock, dancing,
and shopping, but Saturday we felt as if our time was truly our own.
After a leisurely perusal of the merchants, to assure that we had
missed nothing of import, we found seats at the pond stage and watched
I Sebastiani's final commedia performance, a play full of spirited
japes, juggling, singing and the like.  We returned to camp all
a-weary, but before we could retire we were offered one more
commission.  The doumbeks in the next camp had waxed both noisy and
noisome, to the point that a visitor to the bardic circle could not
hear himself as he tried to play his harp.  When Cariadoc asked our
assistance, we could not refuse, so we brought out the shawms and
played in the firelight.  The doumbek players were startled into
momentary silence, broken only by murmurs of "Were those krummhorns?
Or bassoons?" but when they resumed play it was at a much lower volume,
and the two circles continued in peace.

Alas! that upon the morrow it was time to depart, but as we packed our
waggon and journeyed home, our heads were full of plans, and our hearts
full of memories, to sustain us until next year....


from the September 1996 Seahorse