“Was that a rat?”
“No, that was a mouse.” Erestor took another step, then stepped back. “THAT one was a rat.”
“And still is.” Salgant pushed past Glorfindel and Erestor, with Duilin following behind him. “The first order of business will be to assess what needs to be done to renovate the theatre. I have no doubts that extermination of the rodents will be top of the list.”
Glorfindel frowned, looking up at the height of the massive building. “That is going to be expensive.”
“We can bring the cats over from the barn instead of hiring a rat catcher,” suggested Erestor.
“Good idea.” Duilin reached up and pulled down a thick mass of cobwebs that was in their path. “Most of the windows will need to be replaced. The glass shifted and the panes are ready to break. When there is a storm, the rattling is very annoying.”
“I will make a note of that.” Glorfindel had already noted a number of problems, and was rethinking the entire idea. Had it not been for Erestor’s sake, he likely would have given up without taking another step into the dilapidated building.
The main curtain was hanging mostly off the beams and had a large rip across the front of it. Salgant rubbed his chin. “I wonder if we could mend the curtain I already have.”
“It would help save money,” said Glorfindel.
“There is another option,” suggested Erestor. “If you mend the curtain, it could be swapped with one of the ones hanging across the back part of the stage so that the mending would not be so visible.” Glorfindel nodded and made a note of this as well.
“All of the seats will need cleaning,” said Salgant. “I would also suggest changing the candles in the chandeliers. Most of them have cracked due to age.”
As the group wandered through the theatre making comments on other items that needed to be cleaned or fixed, Glorfindel began to tally the amounts in his head. Just as he was about to call off the entire plan, Salgant put his arm around him unexpectedly and said, “So, if you pay for the materials for these renovations, I will pay the salaries of the cast and staff including the ushers, and the cost of labor to have the tasks completed. Once the theatre is in shape, you will only need to pay for the routine maintenance of the facilities. I just need to know what you were planning to produce so that I can budget for a large enough cast.”
“I had not considered which play to do yet,” said Glorfindel, but Erestor interrupted to answer the question.
“Have you heard of a play entitled ‘The Tears of Sirion’?”
Salgant smirked. “Trying to curry Duilin’s favor, Erestor? You know, he wrote that in about five days.”
“Actually, I think it is a brilliant play, if I do say so myself. And I do.” Duilin doubled back around from where he was standing examining the ladder that led into the orchestra pit and linked his arm with Erestor’s. “Which character were you planning to portray?”
“I was thinking that Umbereg might be the part I would be best for.” Erestor watched Duilin crinkle his nose in dismay. “Not a good idea?”
“I think you would be much better suited to play the part of Prince Gellin. I thought you wanted to play lead.” He and Erestor walked to the audience area and sat down to talk about their ideas in casting the roles, while Salgant brought out an abacus and led Glorfindel onto the stage, where there were some props set up from a previous play, including some rather comfortable chairs that were draped with dust covered sheets.
Salgant threw off one of the sheets, causing a cloud of dust to billow up and settle onto a broken harp. “Are you familiar with the play that Erestor and Duilin are discussing?” Glorfindel shook his head. “Well, I am. I had to listen to it being read over and over and over when he was writing it. We need a total of fourteen actors and three actresses, plus understudies. Then, you need a chorus.” The beads on the abacus began to be manipulated as he sat down on the uncovered chair. “At least twelve. Maybe twenty. I am going to assume that there will be dancers, too?”
“I... I have no idea.”
“Duilin!” Salgant looked over to where the other two were sitting. “I need to know if you have dancers in that play!”
“I might.”
“How many?” insisted Salgant.
“Depends. How much are you willing to loosen your purse strings?”
“How willing are you to train my soldiers over the next few months so that I can be sure your play is not a flop come opening night?”
Duilin pantomimed firing an arrow at his friend. “Ten dancers and a chorus of twelve for singing.”
“I was going to have twenty in your chorus,” said Salgant.
“Did I say twelve? I meant twenty.” Duilin resumed his private discussion with Erestor while Salgant moved beads further down on the abacus.
“We need a cleaning staff and stagehands and a number of other assistants as well,” said Salgant. “Will you need a personal assistant?”
“Why would I?”
Salgant shrugged. “I always do. Makes me feel important. Try it, see how you like it.” He flicked a few more beads.
“Are you sure you are going to be able to pay for the cost of the salaries for all of these people?” questioned Glorfindel. “I mean... you are going to need a fairly large staff for a theatre this big.”
“I am well aware of that. What you have to remember is that I used to pay out much more, since I used to maintain this theatre besides. Having a business partner who will be taking care of those costs will make things easier, and profitable, for both of us,” explained Salgant.
Glorfindel lowered his voice. “About that... may I make a suggestion? Instead of us having a formal agreement to be partners, would you mind terribly if instead you remained the owner and director, and I was simply the patron or some such thing?”
“A patron does not normally draw a profit,” said Salgant bluntly.
“I know. I was thinking... if you would be amiable to it, that the excess could be filtered into Erestor’s salary, perhaps a bonus or some such thing.”
Salgant’s eyebrows rose. “That seems highly irregular. It would be a very strange sort of arrangement to have.”
“It is because… well, you see, the reasons are quite selfish. If I make money on this, I will be greatly taxed by Turgon. The plan I had with Erestor was originally to have him claim the profits of the theatre I was to build.”
“Ah... yes, of course, since he is not a lord, not really, he does not have the same tax penalties for acquiring a large amount of wealth. Of course, if you are donating the money for the renovations, you will not be taxed on that either... so essentially, you are filtering your money through me in order for Erestor to obtain it and pay far less. I can follow the rest. It is a very clever plan, and one I wish I had thought of first.” Salgant nodded. “I agree to your terms, Glorfindel. Let us hope that Turgon does not catch on to your scheme.”
-----
Glorfindel and Erestor had lunch with Salgant and Duilin at the House of the Harp, after which, they sat down to make a listing of possible musicians, dancers, and actors who were in Salgant’s house that might be able to fill roles. “We can have an open casting call, but this way we will know ahead of time who to keep an eye on, and for what. Of course, Erestor, you will need to partake in the auditions so that it does not seem as if we just gave you the part,” said Salgant.
“Which is exactly what we are going to do,” laughed Duilin. “Are we going to need to have costumes made, or can we get by with what we have in storage?”
“I think for this play, we need to have new costumes made. No one expects a grand reopening with the same old things they saw eighteen years ago.” Salgant walked to a shelf in his study and brought forth a small book that contained a listing of various crafters he had dealings with. “I think we should see if the ones who did the costumes for the final production we had are still in business.”
“No, Salgant, remember how long it took them to finish? We ended up using something else for the chorus than we originally intended, because they never finished the costumes we ordered in time. We lost money on that production because we ended up altering all of those chorus costumes in the last few days right before we opened, and of course everyone could tell they were from the previous shows. No. We cannot use them again.”
Salgant scanned the pages of his book. “What about the couple that made the costumes for ‘Winter Song’. They did a good job. A little on the expensive side, but those really held up.”
“We still have them, actually. The costumes, not the designers,” clarified Duilin. “I believe they are still in the business of it.”
“Excellent. We should go to see them and find out if they can handle this project.”
Glorfindel cleared his throat and asked, “When are we planning to open?”
“The repairs are going to take a couple of months, and the practices and such at least three more. Perhaps six months from now, to be sure that we need not move the date,” said Duilin.
“Or, we could hold the practices while the repairs are going on,” suggested Erestor. “If the repairs to the stage are done first to make sure that there are no safety issues, I am certain that we can work around the upholsterers and cleaners.”
“That might cut the time a little, but I think we should think in more practical terms. Even if everything was conducted at the same time, it would put us at four months. I think it would be hard to find a costumer who could come up with the full order in that time. Normally, we would have plays planned out two years in advance, so we were hiring for the jobs up to two or sometimes three years ahead of time,” Duilin explained. “That also means as soon as we cast this play, we should start thinking of what to do for the next one.”
Erestor nodded. “True. I guess I was just trying to come up with a quicker solution. I should be going, though. I need to stop at Rog’s training field on my way home.” He stood up, and Glorfindel and Duilin did the same. “Shall we meet again tomorrow?”
“I think we shall have to. There are still a number of things to go over. We can post the casting calls tomorrow as well.” Duilin clasped Erestor’s arm. “I am looking forward to your portrayal of Prince Gellin.”
“And I am looking forward to that challenge.” Erestor turned to Salgant, clasping his arm as well. “I hope that from now on the rest of our meetings will be this pleasant.”
“I suppose we both owe apologies to each other,” considered Salgant.
With a brief shake of his head, Erestor replied by saying, “We are better forgetting than trying to forgive.”
“In some strange way, I believe you are right about that.” Salgant nodded and smiled. “Good day to you, Erestor.”
“Good day to you as well, Salgant.” Erestor picked up his own notes from their discussions as Glorfindel gathered his. “There is no need for you to leave on account of me.”
“I thought I would go with you,” offered Glorfindel. “Unless you would rather that I not?”
“No, that would be fine.” Erestor waited for Glorfindel to say his farewells before they left Salgant’s house and made the trek across the lesser market and across the courtyard to get to the practice fields that Rog and Penlodh trained their soldiers on.
A group of fairly new recruits were lined up on the field, each of them looking worn out and apprehensive. Rog was pacing in front of them, and not looking very happy at all. “Shit,” muttered Erestor as he shoved his things into Glorfindel’s arms before jogging ahead to where Rog and the recruits were.
Glorfindel hastened his step in order to get there a little faster, and he caught a bit of the dialogue that Rog was having. “I care very little whether you are a new recruit or a seasoned officer,” he shouted at the line of fresh faced soldiers, “you will make sure that you appear in uniform, and on time. This,” he said, pointing at Erestor, who was standing at attention, mimicking the pose that the recruits were in, “is completely and utterly unacceptable. No uniform. No training boots. No weapons. Lack of punctuality. Lack of discipline. Do not strive for this.”
Without regard for the fact that he was intruding upon another lord’s domain, Glorfindel marched up to Rog and tapped him on his shoulder. “If you will excuse your Captain, he was with me this afternoon attending to matters of importance.”
“No, I will not excuse him,” countered Rog, who was not at all enthusiastic to see Glorfindel standing beside him. “However, I will take into consideration that you claim responsibility for this matter. Is this true?”
“Uhm... well... yes,” said Glorfindel carefully. “I asked him to attend a meeting with me, and then detained him when he made an attempt to leave.”
“Since he is unprepared to demonstrate battle techniques using blades, and since you are here, perhaps you might remedy the situation by aiding him in a display of hand-to-hand combat examples,” Rog suggested.
“I suppose I could do that.” Glorfindel looked down at the clothing he was wearing and at the papers and things he had been holding onto. “Just a moment while I find a suitable place to set these things.”
“Of course, of course. Take your time,” offered Rog.
Glorfindel noted the sarcasm in Rog’s voice as he passed by Erestor, who was giving him a look of trepidation. Ignoring it, Glorfindel set the items he had down beside a rock, which he used to weigh them down. He removed the quilted jerkin and embroidered silk shirt he had worn to the meeting with Duilin and Salgant. Erestor still remained unmoving in the position he had taken up since arriving as Glorfindel walked back over. “Where should we proceed?”
“Right here,” said Rog, motioning to the spot where Glorfindel and Erestor were standing. “Erestor, you should probably remove your tunic.”
“Yes, sir.” Now Erestor pulled his tunic over his head, dumping it off to the side. “Your command, sir?”
“Are you ready, Glorfindel?” Rog stepped away, off to the side. When Glorfindel nodded his head, taking up a stance with his legs a little more apart, his hands lifted up in front of him in a typical blocking position, Rog gave a nod. “Captain! Varda Two!”
Before Glorfindel could even think, his balance was taken from him and he was flat on his back. He could hear the recruits murmuring among themselves as Erestor looked down at him. “Sorry. I thought you would have seen that one coming.” He held out his hand to help him up.
“Soldier! No talking to the enemy!”
Erestor stepped back abruptly, back at attention. “Sir, yes, sir!”
“At ease.” Rog encircled the pair as Glorfindel slowly sat up. “It is vital to memorize certain verbal commands, and certain non-commands. Who can guess what Varda Two means?” Rog pointed to the recruit whose hand went up first.
“It means to use a low kick around, like he just did.”
“Step forward, son.” Rog took two paces closer to the recruit he had singled out. “This,” he said, suddenly grabbing the soldier around the chest and throwing him down, “is Varda Two. This,” he said, after helping the recruit up, “is also Varda Two.” Rog executed a roundhouse kick, knocking the recruit back down. “Does someone else want to tell me what Varda Two means?”
“Sir?” One of the other recruits was raising his hand as Glorfindel got back onto his feet. “I think it means to take down your opponent in any way possible.”
“Very close,” said Rog, and to the relief of the recruit, he did not give another example before the explanation. “It means to take down your opponent in one move.”
With a wicked look in his eyes, Rog glanced at Glorfindel, and then back at Erestor. “Captain! Varda Two!” This time, Glorfindel stood his ground better, making Erestor hesitate. “Remember, he needs to do it in one move, because that is the command he has been given,” explained Rog to the recruits as they waited for Erestor to do something.
Erestor snorted, and drew back his arm to throw a punch. Glorfindel raise his arm up to block, but the impact came against his sternum as Erestor tackled him down. “Close enough,” said Rog as Erestor stood back up, leaving Glorfindel coughing on the ground.
This time, Glorfindel sat up, but did not stand. “How much longer does this session go?” he asked. A few of the recruits snickered and one even dared laugh.
“Until nightfall,” said Rog as he offered his hand to help Glorfindel back up. “Do not worry. We have many, many more things to demonstrate.”
“I was afraid of that,” mumbled Glorfindel, rubbing the back of his head.
-----
“Glorfindel, I am so sorry. I had no idea he was going to involve you in the entire thing.” Erestor peeled back the chunk of raw meat that Aranel had placed on Glorfindel’s cheek and shook his head at the bruise that was forming.
“It was my own fault for stepping in like that. I should have just gone home.” Glorfindel winced as Aranel touched a particularly sensitive welt on his thigh. “I did not realize how out of shape I am.”
“From now on, I think I should go to teach Rog’s recruits on my own. I need to be sure I am on time in the future as well. It will be more than frowned upon if I am late again.”
Glorfindel fidgeted on the couch until he was in a more comfortable position. “Not having barracks or a training field or soldiers has really taken a toll. I need to figure something out, and fast, or I risk losing my house.” This sudden revelation made Glorfindel’s headache worse. “I have no idea what to do anymore.”
