''One more for the palace entertainment," said Zarvic in his flat, bored voice. He was leading Gilbert by the mane, and Pip was sitting on the horse who had recently been a mouse.

''Who are you? I don't have you on the list," the stout man on the back gate of the courtyard said with a frown.

''Listen, mate. I get told, Bring in another entertainer, so I bring one," Zarvic said with a long-suffering air. "I don't know nothing about no list. No one tells me nothing, do they? But if I bring her back again, there'll be a right barney."

The stout man eyed Zarvic with some sympathy. ''What is she, anyway?"

''Bareback rider, bleeding obvious," said Zarvic.

''An Egyptian like you, I'll warrant," the man on the gate said.

''She's as Egyptian as me, and as Egyptian as you," said Zarvic enigmatically.

''Half-breed?" the man said with mild interest. ''Look, they can always find room for one more, and if she's half Gypper she'll know what to do with a horse. Go on through."

''I can't believe it was that easy," Pip whispered, putting his head down close to Zarvic's ear.

"The thing is, the potion only lasts until midnight," Zarvic warned him.

"Easy. I'll leave before the fireworks, and have plenty of time to get back," Pip replied.

A harassed-looking marshal wearing royal livery and carrying a thick leather notebook jogged over to them. "What do you think you're doing here?" he said in exasperation.

"Er, well ..." Pip began, feeling sure he was about to be thrown out.

"Performers waiting to go on need to stay away from the stage area and the audience," the marshal went on. "Riders are on last."

He pointed to the huge courtyard that had been set up as a performance area, with most of the audience facing it on tiers of benches. Pip gazed at the royal box at the top, where the royal family were seated with their guest behind a velvet rope.

"Where's she meant to be, then?" Zarvic asked offhandedly. 

"Go to the lawn area through that archway, and find the Master of the Horse at once, you understand? He's in charge of the riders."

Pip said a quick goodbye to Zarvic and obediently turned Gilbert by the mane, encouraging him to go a bit faster. Gilbert had never been trained as a horse, obviously, but mice are very intelligent, and he was learning quickly. He trotted through the archway on the opposite side of the courtyard.

The Master of the Horse was a tall military-looking gentleman in a scarlet coat and knee high boots with an aggressively white moustache and a chest that stuck out like a pouter pigeon. 

"You there! Rider!" he barked at Pip as he and Gilbert arrived. "You're late. Join the others and don't cause me any more problems."

"Sorry, sir," Pip said meekly, quietly whispering to Gilbert to go where the other horses and riders were congregated.

"This is a bloody disaster!" the Master of the Horse was saying, striding up and down in agitation. "I've just received word that the Amazing Sasha has been injured, and won't be able to ride tonight. Do any of you know her routine, or have any experience with trick riding?"

A slim black man in a harlequin's costume diffidently raised his hand. "I know a little, sir," he said in a soft French accent. "I have been trained in juggling, and can ride bareback."

"That's a start," said the Master of the Horse grimly. "Anyone else?"

"I've seen Sasha perform, sir," Pip said. "And I taught myself to copy some of her tricks, but I haven't done it for a long time, and it was on a different horse."

"Do you think you two could work something up together?" the Master of the Horse asked. "Even a five minute routine is better than nothing."

"We'll try, sir," said Pip, and the harlequin nodded.

"What are your names?" the Master of the Horse queried, getting ready to write them down.

"I'm Yves Dumas," the harlequin said.

"And I'm ... er ...Raven. Raven ... um, Raven LaMidnight," said Pip, hastily choosing a name that seemed to suit his new dark hair, and with a nod to the first animal who had ever spoken to him.

"Got it," the man said briefly. "I'll pass that on to the Master of Ceremonies. The rest of you, get ready for riding in formation."

Pip and Yves rode together onto the lawn to start working on their routine. Pip reflected that he was missing all the other acts, but being chosen to replace the star of the show was exciting, if nerve-racking.

Yves turned out to have modestly undersold his abilities. He was a skilled bareback rider who could both jump and gallop without a saddle and bridle, and do so while juggling balls or skittles. There was a lounging grace to everything he did that made it seem effortless.

Pip tried riding while standing up, desperately telling Gilbert to work with him. It was more difficult in boots than with bare feet, but he managed it well enough, and even did a few dance poses with his arms stretched over his head and one leg in the air.

With Gilbert's assistance, Pip and Yves worked on what was to be their finale – Pip would leap from Gilbert onto Yves' horse, and they would ride offstage together, while Gilbert cantered in a circle alone, then followed them. Pip didn't think their hastily devised routine was particularly brilliant, but it would have to be good enough.

At last they were called to come back, as it was nearly their turn, and watched the act before them from the wings – Angus McNab and his Trained Wonder Dogs. There were two collies called Beth and Bonnie, one strong and powerful, the other clever and agile. They performed tricks and deftly made their way through a complicated obstacle course, to loud applause. Beth and Bonnie held up their paws to wave to the audience, then trotted offstage, their fluffy tails high.

The next dog was a black Labrador called Bam, but he seemed unable to do a single trick – he rolled over to have his tummy rubbed whenever he was asked to do anything. At first the audience laughed, thinking it was a joke, but after a while, they began to complain. Finally, Angus told Bam to find the ball, which was hidden under one of three buckets, but Bam just looked at the buckets and wagged his tail nervously.

"Your dog is a halfwit!" someone shouted, and Bam's tail drooped.

"Hey, Bam. The ball's under the middle bucket," Pip said in a low voice.

Bam pricked his ears up. "Thanks, friend," he barked. He pushed the bucket over with his nose, and put his paw on the ball.

There were boos, and a few people threw gingerbread and nuts at him.

"Tough crowd," Bam noted, eating a piece of gingerbread off the ground.

"Let's hear it for Angus McNab and his Wonder Dogs!" shouted the Master of Ceremonies, hissing to Angus, "Get off the stage, you fraud, and take your useless cur with you."

Pip felt sorry for the dog, whose brown eyes looked sad, so he yelled out, "Huzzah! Good dog, Bam."

Yves stared, and then he gave a smile and shouted, "We love you, Bam! Good boy!"

"Shut up, the pair of you," ordered the Master of the Horse, before he sent the other riders on to ride in neat formation, as they had been relentlessly drilled to do. They didn't make any mistakes, and were rewarded with a lot of applause.

Pip felt a knot of nerves in the pit of his stomach, and then the Master of Ceremonies spoke in hushed, serious tones. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Amazing Sasha has suffered a riding injury, and cannot be here this evening. I know you'll all be thinking of her while she recovers."

He paused, as the audience looked concerned, and there was a murmur of worried voices while everyone discussed this news. Pip refused to look at the prince or any of of the royal family – he knew they would distract him from riding well.

"Riding in her place tonight will be Yves Dumas, who trained with the greatest circuses in France," the Master of Ceremonies shouted. "And prepare to welcome Raven LaMidnight, an exotic beauty who is a protegee of the Amazing Sasha herself!"

The crowd cheered, but Pip felt angry and upset that the Master of Ceremonies had told such blatant lies about him. He tried not to let it ruin his focus, but rode out into the brightly-lit courtyard beside Yves, his eyes already dazzled by the limelight.

As they had agreed, Pip and Yves cantered around the courtyard in opposite directions, then Yves began juggling on horseback while taking a series of small jumps, and Pip stood on Gilbert's back while he cantered, striking some poses. Any time Pip almost slipped, he tried to make it seem like part of the act, and was gratified to hear the audience gasp, then laugh when they thought it had been staged.

At last it was over, and the audience was clapping and cheering in appreciation. Pip leapt onto Yves' horse, and sat behind him, waving to the audience. When they rode near the royal seats, Pip risked a look, and saw the prince clapping heartily, talking to the Russian princess as if to point out how good the show was. Pip waved, and kissed the tips of his fingers to the prince, feeling very daring. Then he and Yves were offstage, and Pip was shaking with nerves after his experience.

"Encore, encore!" the crowd roared. "More! More!"

"You have to go back on," the Master of Ceremonies said urgently. "Quick – now. Go on."

Yves and Pip looked at each other blankly, then Pip mounted Gilbert again. Yves and Pip rode back into the courtyard, and galloped as fast as possible around it together as if having a race. There was only one thing Pip could do as an encore, and he hadn't practised at all.

Carefully, he rolled up on his shoulders, then stood on his hands while Gilbert cantered in a circle. He felt his little skirt fall down, and all he had on underneath was a tiny pair of white lace knickers. Pip worried that they did very little to disguise his manhood, and hoped he was far enough from the audience that nobody would notice.

Yves didn't do anything to distract from Pip's performance, but trotted around in a tight figure-of-eight facing backwards, clapping to encourage the audience.

"Three cheers for Raven!" somebody called, and then the entire audience was standing, many of them stamping their feet as they clapped.

Pip carefully dropped back down, riding flat on his back for a short time until he could get himself righted. Then he and Yves dismounted and held hands as they took a bow together, while a pair of grooms led their horses away.

A member of the royal staff came forward with an enormous bouquet of deep pink long-stemmed roses, wrapped up in gold paper and tied with a ribbon.

"For you, Miss LaMidnight," he said with a bow. "The prince wishes to express his appreciation for your performance tonight."

He gave Pip a swift, sly glance which suddenly took away any pleasure Pip might have felt in receiving such beautiful flowers. He remembered his father's comments about Sasha, and wondered if everyone thought of entertainers as people to be bought for a night with money and gifts.

Pip drew himself up as tall as possible. "Please thank the prince for his great kindness," he said with dignity, "but I would like the flowers to be sent to the Amazing Sasha to wish her well while she recovers. She is the true star, I merely shone for a short while in her reflected light."

Pip haughtily stalked into the wings with a toss of his head and his nose in the air, feeling satisfied that he had put the man thoroughly in his place. The effect was perhaps slightly marred by the fact that he couldn't help peeking over his shoulder at the prince, tripped on his diamond-studded boots, and staggered into a potted camellia.

"Grand gestures and high heels do not mix," Pip lamented to himself, as he gathered his tattered pride and hobbled offstage, brushing leaves and pink petals from his white lace dress.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LINDENSEA LORE

Camden Palace was treated to a night of glittering entertainment on Saturday the 25th of April in honour of its esteemed guest, Princess Dorothea of Bjarma ... Although nearly every act was of the highest quality (apart from a canine comedy sketch of dubious taste), the highlight of the evening was, as always, the equestrian demonstrations ... The audience were shocked to learn that the Amazing Sasha, who all had been eagerly awaiting, was injured on the very day of the entertainment itself. Fortunately, her place was ably filled at the last moment by Yves Dumas, a skilful French juggler, and bareback rider Raven LaMidnight, who learned her craft from the Amazing Sasha herself ... Although Miss LaMidnight could not match the polish of her mentoress, her sheer pluck and spirit, not to mention her rather striking beauty, won the crowd over. Your correspondent has heard rumours that more than one heart was lost to the lovely Miss LaMidnight!

From The Camden Times Society Page, by columnist Tanith Hawthorne