N (WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 1 - Just N

Nicole studied the words on a small piece of paper in her hand. "Be well my little one. I wish our lives had been different."

She shoved the note back into the small leather wallet she carried. Safe for now. One day she would understand the words. The wind was picking up. Never a good sign. She would need to hammer in the stakes. A large, wooden mallet in her hands she made her way out into the foul night. Rain beat against the tarpaulin, the tent groaning as the storm pounded against its sides.

A large turnout for the show meant it could not be abandoned. Money was money, even if it meant bad weather was closing in. She pulled her cloth cap down, hoisting up her ill-fitting breeches, hoping her coat would not get too wet as she ventured out beyond the confines of her small world. Laughter and applause rang in her ears as she went about her job of keeping the tent upright.

Both hands gripped the long handle of the mallet, swinging it over her head, hitting the stake square. And again. And again. And again. Ever more forcefully with each blow. The rain continued to pound against her body, soaking through her clothing. It was of no concern. She needed to work fast, get those stakes bedded into the soft earth. 

Her work done she sank to her knees panting, hands now bloody from the effort, something pulling at her lungs forcing her to take deeper breaths. The horse would comfort her. Make her feel better. Her friend. Someone who didn't expect too much. All he wanted was new hay, a rub down after each performance,  the occasional sugar lump if she could get it. The warmth of his body made her feel safe as she slept with him. Night, after night, after night.

The main act had begun when she returned, standing in the wings watching the delight on the audience's faces. A magic act performed before their very eyes. Nicole knew every detail of the trick, smiling as those who didn't were taken in. She wanted to be a magician, or  horseback rider, or trapeze artist. For now, she was the odd job boy, tasked with doing everything no one else wanted to do.

She didn't mind. Abandoned at birth, sent to an orphanage, running away to join the circus at the age of twelve, this was the only life, the only family she had known. Some kind to her. Some not so kind. It didn't matter. Home was with her horse Caspian. The one who would call to her as she entered the temporary stables, wanting Nicole's attention. 

The morning came, a cold breeze entering the stables, making Nicole pull the one blanket she owned over her shoulders to keep warm. Her cough woke Caspian. "Hush, my friend. I be sorry. My lungs hurt."

The horse snorted, Nicole's words of little comfort, having been woken. She tried to move, the effort too much after her work pegging the tent. "Don't be mad. I be sick, that's all. A moment."

Caspian sensed Nicole's pain, bringing his head round to check on his ailing companion. "I be alright. Give me a moment to find air."

Nicole made her way out of the stables into daylight, her eyes squinting, her body aching, her lungs burning. The Ring Master was standing outside the main tent, orchestrating its take down. Nicole knew better than to get in his way, his gruff voice telling her she needed to lie low. Often the brunt of everyone's short temper, she had learnt to be invisible, bury herself in a hundred jobs that needed doing around the circus. A message sent to another, a costume returned to the right box, an animal in need of pacifying, she was always on hand, out of sight, away from any of the theatrics of the larger characters in the troupe.

Dolls was shouting at someone at the top who had thought bringing the main part of the tent down without releasing the collected water was a good idea. He stood back as a surge of water hit anyone not prepared. Nicole was inside the tent, hearing Dolls' commands, laughing as water sent workers cascading off canvas. She heard her name being called.