Rehearsal Night; Kal-da is Evil

originally posted January 13, 2007

Kal-da is evil. I have determined that.
We had a full dress rehearsal last evening, the first rehearsal of the sort. Musicians were brought in. A player of the czehar, two players of the aulus, and two drummers, both kaska and tabor, complemented the action. Behind the curtains, I put the Six Girl at the disposal of Phineahas for costume changes and transitions. Elise was put at the disposal of Turianus. Only Sandal watched from the tiers. The doors of the Great Theater were locked to spectators and passersby. Only the actors, myself, a few slaves and the old ghost of the theater were in attendance. It went well. I have a few notes for the musicians, but there are only minor adjustments I would like them to make.
It was afterward that things went less than well.
I remember paying the Musicians for their time. I also paid a stipend, an advance of future earnings, for the last few hands of work, to both Turianus and Phineahas. Per usual, Turianus took his leave, but Phineahas suggested a drink. He, too, offered to buy the rounds at The Ripe Larma on Wagon Street. It is a coarse tavern. The wines are cheap and the girls serving are cheaper still. Pretty, little urchins given what appear to be rags from the kitchen as garments. Though you can have a bottle of wine brought to the table, one does not go to the Larma for the wine. The Larma is, chiefly, a Kal-da Shop. I think the Story Teller was a little surprised that I was not unknown in the place. A few nods. A fellow lifted a bowl in my direction as we worked our way to a table. Many of the fellows that frequent the Larma are Saddle-Makers. Leather Workers, in general, can be found with a hot bowl on their tables and filthy sluts by their knees at the Larma. I am of a low enough caste, however, that I am not unknown by these fellows. Some of them know me as Szol of the Poets. Many of them know me as the whore-monger that puts his wanton strumpets in their paths.
I remember the first bowl of Kal-da. Hot and spicy. Dangerously potent and cheaply had. I remember that Sandal knelt at my left, leaning close. On my right, keeping close as well, was the girl Elise.We toasted to many things. To the success of the play. To the success of the Six Girl in earning back my money from the Musicians.When men toast while drinking Kal-da, the reason is two-fold. Firstly, the sentiment is true. Secondly, true as the sentiment may be, one needs a moment to steel oneself between drinks of the harsh brew. It is not a friendly drink.
It is after that I do not remember much. I know there was a second bowl. A generously-sized bowl, like the first. I know there was further toasting, though to what I cold not say. I know I woke with my forehead in the furs, unable to will myself to my shoulders, let alone my feet, for an ahn or more. Kal-da is evil. I have determined that. I am going back to sleep. I have instructed the auburn girl to wake me only if she wishes a spirited beating.