A Lesson for the Cyclops

Chapter 10

 “Confound it!” D’Arbignal complained, bouncing on the safety net beneath the high wire. “This is trickier than it looks!”

Gilliam rolled her eyes and sneered.

“Poor dear,” she taunted, “perhaps you should console yourself with your metal toys and leave the acrobatics to the professionals.”

The Cyclops grimaced. She had been sitting by the perimeter of the tent, eating her lunch and covertly watching D’Arbignal train.

Gilliam was circling the safety net, gesticulating arrogantly with her hands. She was a tall, lithe brunette with an aristocratic nose and an arrogant chin.

“I honestly don’t know what to do with you, Mister D’Arbig­nal—‍”

“I told you, it’s just D’Arbignal,” he said.

“—but Marco says I should try to teach you, and I’m doing as well as can be expected with such … rough materials as these.”

D’Arbignal jumped to the ground from the netting, his face red from exertion and, perhaps, embarrassment. His hand reached for his rapier, but he had removed it before the training started.

“Ah, there he goes again,” Gilliam said. “Like a baby whining for his mother’s teat you are with that sword.”

His jaws clenched in anger. He raised a fist and seemed about to say something, and then changed his mind.

“By the gods,” he said, suddenly smiling, “you’re absolutely stunning when you’re cruel!”

Her head recoiled as if she had been struck.

“More childish babbling,” she snapped. “Now you get back to work.”

D’Arbignal mimed blowing her a kiss. “Only if you promise to insult me some more.”

Gilliam seemed flummoxed. She opened and closed her mouth a number of times before saying, “Get back on the wire and try again.”

D’Arbignal climbed the ladder to the high wire. “The very words you speak are my sustenance. I need no other.”

Gilliam said nothing. D’Arbignal shrugged and trotted out onto the high wire. Proceeding smoothly, he performed a cartwheel across the wire and landed in a deep lunge. He wavered a moment, catching his balance, and then placed both hands onto the wire and carefully extended his legs and torso into a full handstand.

He lowered first one leg and then the other until he was upright again. He hesitated.

“What are you waiting for,” Gilliam said, “a drumroll?”

D’Arbignal’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment, and then he visibly relaxed. He squatted on the wire, caught his balance, and then sprung backward into the air. His body corkscrewed into a full turn. At the completion of the corkscrew, he extended his hands toward the wire …

… and missed it.

He cried out, partly in dismay, it seemed, but also partly in fury. He tumbled in an inglorious ball to land once more onto the safety net. The Cyclops’s heart was pounding.

He slammed his fist into his hand. “This is trying my patience!”

The sound of someone clapping echoed through the tent. The Cyclops looked to the entrance.

Conchinara walked in with a seductive smile on her face. She looked so stunning today that even the Cyclops drew a sharp breath. The dancer prowled into the room, placing one bare foot in front of the other, causing her hips to undulate. Her costume—what there was of it—was skintight and almost translucent.