Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves
Jessica set a mug of tea in front of the old gypsy woman and draped a soft woolen shawl over her shoulders. Taking a seat at the battered, rickety table across from her, Jessica softly took her hand. While the hand appeared weathered and frail, lined with age spots and the skin so translucent it was almost see-through, Jessica knew, as so often was the case, appearances were deceiving. It was easy to look at the shaking hands, greying hair and stooped back and miss the bright intelligence and deeply rooted strength. Too many had made that mistake she thought. Although she was not sure why the old lady had called for her, she knew it was not trivial. This elder was not one to be trifled with.
“Old mother,” Jessica began softly, “I’m so very sorry for the loss and destruction you have suffered. Were very many hurt in the flood and fire? I know that my sister would be here if she could to help.”
Vadoma shook her head and waved her hand dismissively at Jessica. “Tha destruction will be set to rights. We travellers knows how ta take care ah our own when we hafta. And it looks like we hafta in this case. I see no help comin from those that style themselfs as officials.”
“Yer sister were a good one she were,” Vadoma continued after taking a sip of her tea. “No’ many wud take tha time to look in on such as us. She were a gud gov’nah and a better friend. If this ha’ happened on her watch, she wud ha’ been there ta help, like she did wif tha miners when tha’ Suka got up to mischief. Tha’s why I called fer ye.”
Jessica felt her own hands shake as she looked into the eyes of the wise, old woman. After weeks of no news, turning over every rock she could think of, could she finally be catching a break? Was it possible this was the news she’d been praying for.
Taking a breath, Jessica asked, barely above a whisper, “Do you have news of my sister?”
The old woman reached a hand deep into the pocket of her tattered skirt and pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment. She slowly slid it across the table to Jessica.
“I do b’lieve yer sister left word in several places. She were worried by wut she saw comin’. Tol’ me she sent pigeons to the guv’nahs she trusted. Said how if’n I didn’ see her by now, ta fin’ you and give you that,” she nodded at the parchment.
As Jessica put her hand over the parchment, Vadoma squeezed her hand and looked into her eyes with all the wisdom and fierceness she had earned over her lifetime. “I tol ya. She were a gud friend. If’n she’s in trouble, ma clan will help ya. Ya have only ta ask.”
Jessica squeezed her hand back and unfurled the parchment. As she read, her eyes widened in dismay. Written in Anne’s neat handwriting was a warning, or a prophecy, Jessica wasn’t sure which.
“My dear sister, if you are reading this, my worst fears have come to pass and I’m no longer with you. If you are reading this, missives I sent to Governors Pitr and Bytor, along with former Governor Kaz, have been intercepted or lost. I’m sure by now, rumors and lies have been spreading. Please know, I would never abandon those I hold so dear, my sisters and the people of Minoc, if I had any choice in the matter. But now, I’m afraid, I need your help. And you will need help as well. Look where our sister started her career. There is something I left for you there. Seek out those you know I trust. And be careful. You and our sisters are precious to me.”
Looking at Vadoma, Jessica said firmly, “Prepare those you trust. I go to talk to the King and seek further aid. I will be in touch.”
Jessica rose and gently leaned over to kiss the old woman’s cheek. Vadoma looked into her tea leaves and hoped that, this one time, the leaves were wrong.
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William Stood alone, whipping his forehead with bloodied fingers. His stance hunched battered with fresh wounds, but still towering over the several attackers which surrounded him. Beside them, laid fallen bodies which baked in the sun’s heat. The remaining guards raise their swords, the light glinting from the steel blades. William pauses, knowing well his ancestors are watching overhead, their gaze awaiting his next move. It was a simple assault, he hadn’t become the man know as the Bear to just perish in the very world where his ancestors had overcome even greater enemies. These were paid village guards, thugs at best.
The guards holler and charge toward William, the ground echoing the rumble of their feet against the earth. William watches their movements -- There is no real strategy here, only a bloodlust well to known to his people. William grinds his teeth and despite his battered legs, bruised ribs, and the taste of blood in his mouth, braces himself.
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Present Day.
Politics, how boring. William never was a fan of the activities associated with the governance of Britannia. He cared only for what opportunities their grievances could bring the Rovers and himself.
So many kidnappings, Anne… Jaden… why? Good fortune had presented itself.
Warmed and numbed by the liquor William waited alone outside the King’s court. The hour grew late, but the people inside finally made their way outside the chambers where William had been awaiting one who perhaps was desperate enough to be persuaded to take his offer.
“Jessica… Is it?” William announced as a young elven woman with bubble gum pink hair passed.
Jessica was a rather petite and slime elf, yet she carried with her a presence that demanded respect.
“Yes, who is asking?” Jessica Replied
“I am here to free you from your troubles.” A shallow smile crossed Williams face as his ice blue eyes met Jessica.
“You may call me the bear.”