The following scene takes place in a small, heathen kingdom in northern
Europe during the late 9th Century. On the third day of the Harvest Festival,
a small crowd of peasants and noblesse has gathered on the outskirts of the
Faire by the river. A large wooden wheel has been erected, like the kind you might
see at a carnival today, but bigger and more medieval. In front of the wheel,
a richly dressed man addresses the crowd.
"Step right up! Try your luck! Whose next? Spin the wheel and test
your fortunes! What will it be? Death? Or glory?"
"Excuse me. Pardon. Excuse me. Pardon, pardon me, sir."
"And who's this? From all the way in the back! Make way! Make way!
Let her through! Make way, my friends. We have another brave
contestant--a short one from way in the back, by the looks of it. Make way!
Short she is, but braver than most! Brave indeed! Well now, my lady, what's your name?"
"Madeline! Lady Madeline! Just like the queen. And as pretty as one, eh?"
"Only Maddy, please, sir."
"Only Maddy! Give it up for Only Maddy, everyone! Now, Maddy, are you ready to try
your luck? To test the fates and meet your destiny? Are you ready, Maddy?"
"Yes. Well--no, but yes. Yes, I'm ready."
"The wheel looks like it's almost ready, too.
Get her nice and polished there, Gregory. And plenty of grease there, Rubio.
We don't want any more squeaking!"
"Now Madeline, before you give the wheel a spin, please tell us: how old are you
and what brings you to the fair today?"
"I've two moons till my eighth harvest."
"And I've come to the wheel today from way yonder past Hittlesburg, a five days' walk."
"A five days' walk for the wheel! And all the long way from Up Yonder Past Hittlesburg!
I've got a cousin or two in Up Yonder."
"Mother is with child and cannot leave the bed. The mule's got the pox.
A fox got the chickens. Father's dead--slipped into the gully.
I've six little brothers to feed, another on the way, only an acre of field
left after the fires, a rotted plow, and only eight fingers.
That's what brings me to the wheel way from way yonder."
"Only eight fingers you say, Lady Maggie? Let's hold up that hand for everyone to
see. Poor Maggie"
"Lady Maddy, everyone! Only eight fingers, but that's plenty enough to give
the wheel a spin! Nearly ready there, Gregory?"
"Aye, sir. In a minute, sir"
"And six brothers, you say, Maggie? What a man your father must be! What a man!"
"A seventh on the way. And father's dead since midsummer."
"A seventh son! Let's hope he bestows his luck upon you! Are we ready, Rubio?
Places now! It's time for the wheel! Ready, Maddy? One chance, one spin!
What will the fates decide? Tell me, Maddy, where do you hope you'll land?
Say it and we'll all will it with you."
"A pot of gold--no, a strong, young mule--no, I've got it--a sack--two
sacks of fine flour! Enough for the whole family for the whole winter.
"Two sacks of our finest flour for Lady Madeline! May the fates be kind, young Maddy.
Strap her up, Rubio! Prepare to crank, Gregory!"
"O-ho! Look at her up on the wheel! Her little hands look so cute tied up on the
big wheel like that. Freakish with the stumps, but cute overall.
Let's give it up for Maddy! She's putting on a brave face.
Hardly a tear yet! Three cheers for brave little Maddy! Hip-hip!"
"Here she goes! Watch her spin! Faster now, faster! Till she's all a blur!
And listen close to hear the thunk. That's the thunk of fate!
Where will the pointer land? What will the fates decree? Let's hear it
for two sacks of fine flour!"
"The flour! The finest flour!"
"Don't cry now, Maggie. There's flour in your future--as long as you
know when to stop! Belay the crank there, Gregory! Let's see where she'll land!
Quiet now, Maddy. Let's listen close as the thunks wind down!
Thunk! Glory! Thunk! Death! Thunk! Life! Thunk! Two sacks of the finest flour?"
"The flour! The finest flour!"
"Now watch her slow! She's coming into focus. Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
What will it be? What's in store? Thunk, thunk, thunk, and then it will thunk no more!
Now she slows and now she goes! Thunk...thunk! (And maybe a half twist of the crank
there, Gregory.) Where will she stop? What will it be?"
"The flour! The finest flour!"
"We hope. We hope. Thunk. Thunk. And now she stills.
Look close now. Where did she land? Snakes! Into the pit!"
"The pit! The pit! The pit!"
Screams, cheers, hissing.
"All right, now. Who's next? Try your luck! Spin the wheel and find your fate!
Who's up next? Step on up!"