The Devil's Opera(25)

“I agree with that,” Franz added. “In a few years, maybe, but not now.”

Thomas crossed his arms and leaned back in an exaggerated pouting pose. “But the fourth movement is so cool!”

“Bide your time, Thomas,” Franz laughed, “bide your time.”

Before any of the others could respond, the door into the back of the house flew open and Marla strode through. Franz managed to refrain from jumping, but some of the others didn’t.

“Sorry to interrupt, guys, but I need something now.” By then she was standing directly in front of Thomas, and she thrust an open music book into his hands. “Thomas, I need two arrangements of this song as soon as you can produce them—one for our Green Horse Tavern group, and one for full orchestra accompaniment.”

Franz looked at his wife as Thomas scanned through the song. Her posture, the way she held her shoulders and her head, they spoke of resolution, of determination. A sense of excitement began to build in him. She looked at him and grinned, and his heart soared to see the fire in her eyes.

Thomas looked up. “A piece of cake, as you say. Two days for our group, two weeks for the orchestra, less if you have a recording for me to hear.”

“I have the recording,” Marla said. “You can hear it at the school tomorrow.” She lifted her head and almost danced as she looked around at their friends. “Gentlemen, we are going to give Mary and the emperor all the support they could ask for, and we’re going to give old Ox more than he bargained for.”

“So what is the song?” Franz asked over the snorts and chuckles of the others.

The fire in Marla’s eyes seemed to blaze even brighter. “We will give the people a voice with ‘Do You Hear the People Sing’!”

Franz could only nod in agreement.





Chapter 9

Morning came. Simon came awake gradually, aware that someone was nearby. For a moment he panicked, until he remembered where he was. He opened his eyes to see Hans crouched by his feet, feeding sticks into the rekindled fire. A yawn came upon him without warning and tried to unhinge his jaw. When that was finished and his eyes were open again, he saw Hans looking at him.

“Good morning.” Hans’ voice was grumbly in the early morning air.

“Good morning,” Simon replied. The tip of his nose was cold, so he reached up and rubbed it. Hans stood and walked over to a table in the corner, where he took cloths off a loaf of bread and a partial wheel of cheese. Simon unfolded the blanket—the nicest, warmest blanket he’d ever seen—and sat up, smacking his lips and rubbing his eyes.

“Hungry?” Hans asked over his shoulder.

“Yah, but…”

“There’s a chamber pot in my room.”

Moments later Simon walked back into the main room. As usual, arranging his clothing with only one hand took a bit of effort, but by backing up against the wall to hold things up he managed to deal with the buttons.

“Here.” Hans handed him a plate of bread and cheese.

Simon sat on the stool and began eating just as the door to Ursula’s room opened. Her progress was no faster in the morning that it had been the previous evening, but she finally made it to her chair and lowered herself with care. She sighed and hooked her cane over the edge of the table as Hans approached with another plate.

“I like this cheese,” Ursula said with her mouth full. Simon smiled at the sight of her plump cheeks. “You need to get some more when this is gone.”

“If I can remember who I got it from,” Hans said as he brought two cups over, one for his sister and one for Simon. “This is the last of the small beer. I’ll need to go get some here in a little while, so you’re not left dry when I head out for work.”

There was silence for a while as the three of them munched on hard bread and soft cheese. Midway through their repast, they heard the piercing whistle of the night soil man with his wagon. Hans stood while his cheeks were still bulging and went into his room. He returned with the chamber pot, went into his sister’s room, then carried the two pots down to be dumped in the wagon’s barrels. Simon grinned as he saw that even Stark Hans did not want to be confronted by the CoC and their mania for sanitation.

“All right,” Hans said as he came back into the main room. “I’ll go get the beer now. Nay, Simon,” as the boy started to rise, “stay here. I won’t be gone long.” He picked up a small keg in the corner and left.

Simon and Ursula looked at each other. After a moment, Ursula gave a tentative smile, which Simon echoed.

Fraulein Metzger seemed even more like an angel today, Simon thought to himself. She was dressed in a forest green skirt, with a brown bodice and a cream colored linen blouse. Her hair was braided and wrapped around her head under a soft cap. A glint of humor was in her eye, and a flush was on her cheeks. All in all, she was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen.