Assassin's Curse (31 page)

I’ll be able to do whatever I want and go anywhere.
 

The thought of travelling to the cool, northern cities of the kingdom thrilled her.
 
When she finally found the flyer, she jumped for joy and her wagon shook on its wheels.
 
Flattening out the crumpled flyer, beads of Mirabelle’s sweat dropped onto the paper, smearing some of the writing.

Damn heat!
 
I nearly ruined it.

She quickly patted the paper dry, but most of the writing was unreadable.
 
She was not deterred and turned to her crystal.
 
It was nothing more than a ball of glass, but it had proven useful over the years in earning her meager living.
 
As the family fortune-teller, the unwashed masses came to her with their hard-earned coppers hoping for a momentary glimpse of their futures.
 
She would gaze into her mysterious crystal, pierce the veil into the future, and utter a few vague references about wealth, beauty, and love.
 
The satisfied customers would hand over their hard-earned coins and Mirabelle would pocket them, both happier for the experience.
   

Today the crystal might actually do something worthwhile.
 
She slipped the smeared paper under the crystal to magnify the remaining words and hopefully to read enough for it to help her.
 
What remained of the flyer gave her hope.
   

The Countess of Berkshire… reward… 10,000 gold pieces… information leading… rescue of… granddaughters… proof of life… proof of heredity… current location to local coven… safe return… conditions… reward.

It was enough for Mirabelle to formulate a plan, but she still needed a way to prove undeniably that these two girls were the twins the Berkshire countess had been looking for all these years.
 
While contemplating how she would come up with her proof, her eyes travelled to the crest of the Berkshire family beneath the words of the proclamation.
 
Normally, the crest would have been too small to see any fine details, but under the magnification of the crystal, the family crest showed intricate scrollwork of beautifully penned spirals surrounding an ornate letter “B”. Mirabelle sat up suddenly and moved her crystal over the center to get a better look at the seal.
 
The ornate “B” of the Berkshire Family crest was the same “B” that was on the pins that had held the twins’ blankets together when they were infants.
 
The twins still wore the pins when they dressed up for special occasions.
 
Those pins were a pointed reminder to Mirabelle of one of her
little
past indiscretions.
   

The confrontation happened when the twins were infants.
 
Mirabelle had tried to steal one of the pins in the hopes of selling it.
 
The pins were beautifully wrought and inlaid with gold, and worth a small fortune.
 
She was hoping to even the score with Jeda for his humiliation of her.
 
Unfortunately, when she tried to take one of the pins, the twins started to scream and Jeda came running, catching her in the act.
 
She was adamant that the whole affair was an innocent mistake, but Jeda did not believe her.
 
When Natasha arrived asking about the commotion, neither had said anything.
 
Mirabelle always secretly believed that Jeda told Natasha later, but nothing was ever said about the incident again.
 
Of course, Jeda never allowed Mirabelle alone with the twins again.
 

Perfect,
Mirabelle thought deliciously, still studying the seal and realizing the irony.
 
The very pins that had caused her so much pain and embarrassment would now bring her the life she so richly deserved.
 
She looked out of her wagon’s small window and spied Keisha with a covered basket.
 
She was probably bringing Jeda something to eat while he worked at setting up the camp.
 
With the twins down by the river and the wagon empty, it was the perfect opportunity for her to claim her fortune.

Mirabelle stripped off her sweat-stained dress, wiped off the beads of sweat, and dressed again.
 
Climbing out her wagon, she hurried over to Jeda’s and, after a frantic search, finally found one of the pins under a mattress.
 
She snatched it up and clutched it tightly to her chest.
 

I’ll be rich and finally free of everyone.

Mirabelle poked her head out of the wagon and looked around.
 
When she was satisfied no one had spied her rooting around in Jeda’s wagon, she slipped out and sped off toward town.
 
She had an appointment to make with the local witch coven
;
an appointment that would make her rich beyond her wildest imagination.

***

KNOCK.
 
KNOCK.

Mirabelle waited impatiently at the coven’s modest house in the town of Redstone for someone to answer the door.
 
Redstone was not that far from where the gypsies had set up camp and Mirabelle had practically run the whole way in her excitement.
 
Now she stood outside the coven house, breathing heavily and sweating again, clutching her salvation in her hand.
 
The pin she held so tightly was the key to her proof and new life.

The door opened.
 
“May I help you?” a young woman asked.

“I’m here to see your head mistress,” Mirabelle said.

The young woman stepped back.
 
“Please come in.
 
I’ll get Mistress Alana.”

Mirabelle followed the girl into a front parlor.
 
“Wait here.”

Mirabelle plopped down in the nearest chair, trying to catch her breath.
 
The room seemed sparse, hardly the setting she was expecting from a professional coven house.
 
In her business of scrying, the scene she presented to her customer was half the work.
 
Looking around this room, Mirabelle thought it looked more like a storeroom than the foyer of a powerful coven.
 
Mirabelle sniffed her distaste, reminding herself she was here on her own business, very important business.

The young girl came back in the parlor with another woman.
 
“Ma’am, this is Mistress Alana.”

Alana, a slender woman of middle years, patted the young girl on her shoulder.
 
“Mary, you can go now.
 
See if you’re needed in the kitchen.”
 
She turned to Mirabelle after the girl had left.
 

“She is such a sweet girl, but so weak in the power.
 
It’s really too bad, she is so anxious to learn.”

Mirabelle struggled to her feet.
 
“Yes, too bad indeed, but I’m not here to discuss your inept apprentices.
 
I am here about the reward for the missing twin girls.”

Alana laughed lightly.
 
“Oh, I understand now.
 
So you have seen the elusive and mysterious twins of Berkshire, huh?
 
Do you plan to tell me where they are or perhaps what direction they might have scurried off to?
 
I am afraid many have come to tell that tale already, but they have all left disappointed, just as you will.
 
We require proof of them, not some farfetched tale you dreamed up in hopes of getting the reward.”

Mirabelle bristled under the witch’s chastisement.
 
“Do you think me a fool, some bumbler or errant idiot out for a quick score?
 
You would be wise to curb your sarcasm with me.
 
I too am of the power and descry the future for those that seek it.
 
I have not come here with wild-flung stories of a sighting but with tangible proof of their existence.”

Alana, rebuked at Mirabelle’s scathing reply, motioned to a side room.
 
“Perhaps we should continue this conversation in a more private setting.”

Both women were so intent on their scrutiny of each other that neither saw the young assistant Mary scurry off from her current hiding spot to rush to another peephole to spy on what would transpire next.
 
She positioned herself quietly to watch and listen to the women’s conversation.
 

As both women entered the side room, Alana looked closely at Mirabelle’s eyes.
 
“Hmmm, I do see a fleck of gold in your eyes.
 
You are a wilding, aren’t you?
 
You must live and work with the gypsy troupe camped outside the city.
 
Show me this proof of which you speak or stop wasting my time.”

There was no apology given by the coven witch to Mirabelle.
 
There had always been animosity between the two groups of witches, each believing the other to be somehow less because of their different methods of studying the power.
 
Coven teaching held to a very strict curriculum in its approach while the gypsies used a more natural, instinctive methodology.

Mirabelle open her hand, showing the pin she had been clutching so tightly.
 
Alana leaned forward for a better look and gasped slightly at the ornate casting.
 
“That is the Berkshire Crest.
 
Where did you get it?
 
Where are the twins?”

“All in due time,” Mirabelle replied smugly.
 
“First, there is a matter of the reward.
 
I will have it before I give them over.”

“We will have to set up an exchange, but first I must send the pin to the Countess for verification.
 
She will want absolute proof of the twins before she will give you any reward.
 
This includes their safe return to her.”

“Do you think me daft?
 
Give you the only proof I have of their existence?
 
Don’t be naïve.
 
You can make a pressing of the pin and send that as proof.”

“Very well, that will have to do,” Alana replied.

She turned and moved to the room doorway and called out, “Mary, please come here and bring the paper and ink for a pressing.”

***

Mary hoped the head brother would be happy at the news she brought.
 
She was a fully trained assassin of the guild, but had been acting as an assistant to the egotistically bloated coven witch for far longer than she had ever anticipated.
 
Her head brother had given her this assignment and told her to simply watch, listen, and report anything unusual to him.

He was a hard man the other brothers called
the merciless
,
but he did reward success.
 
Mary could only hope that the news of the discovery of the Berkshire twins would interest him.
 
Mary also knew he had a cruel streak and did not want to get on his bad side.
 
He was not called Mave the Merciless for nothing.

***

It was near the end of their stay at this town and Jeda found himself waiting patiently while the girls dressed.
 
Today he would be going into town to buy food and supplies the family troupe would need for the trip to their next village stop.
 
This duty usually fell to Jeda, Natasha, and Keisha, but Keisha had begged off, complaining of both a sore back and tired feet.
 
No one put up any argument.
 
The poor girl was seven months’ pregnant and the size of a small wagon.
 
It was amazing how she was able to move at all carrying all the weight.
 
Not that Jeda ever commented on that.
 
At least not since that time when she first started to show and he innocently commented on how round her belly was getting.
 
He still couldn’t believe his sweet, little Keisha could curse and throw things that far.
      

Jeda and Natasha had planned to do all the shopping themselves, but then the twins volunteered to take Keisha’s place.
 
After much whining and wheedling, Jeda finally agreed they could come along.
 
His agreement was more to shut them up than for any other reason.
 
He had learned quickly that there was nothing worse than getting ganged up on by a brood of females.
 
Jeda didn’t know when exactly his authority had been usurped, but he finally realized, as most intelligent men did, that he was not in charge and had not been in quite some time.
 
He simply shook his head and accepted it as fact, much as he accepted many things that had changed when he and Keisha married.
     

It will allow them to see more of the world under the watchful eyes of their father
, Keisha told Jeda, reminding him that his two little sweethearts were fast becoming young women.
 

Jeda finally agreed that the girls needed exposure to the greater world beyond the throngs that visited the gypsies during shows.
 
It wouldn’t be much longer before the ruse of Kara being a young boy would no longer work.
 
A budding chest would undo the efforts that camouflaging her hair color and the
boy
clothes she wore had achieved so far.
 
There would be no way to hide the fact the he was a she.
 
What he would do when that time came?
 
It had been years since they had contact with anyone looking for signs of twin girls.
 
He knew that neither the guild nor the Black Coven had ever given up entirely.
 
Vigilance had kept them safe so far, but for how much longer?