Not having been raised streetwise for nothing, however, I cased the building and noted all exits before proceeding inside. Arriving very early, I was able to deduce that the proprietor of the shop was someone from the old country, and therefore by right and tradition I would be perfectly safe within. The curse that would flow down upon the owner for hurting a fellow countryman with her walls would make anyone shudder and shake in fear.
A note found inside indicated that food and drink was available. I wondered if the rest of the guests were also Romani, and chuckled at the notion of some of them not being so, and thus being suspicious of both myself and whoever our host might be. I located the most comfortable chair, helped myself to bread and wine, and waited. It pays to be early! Little did I now that I would be the only trueborn one amongst the invitees.
The others soon began to arrive, led by a brash army officer and a matronly female doctor. She seemed taken aback that I was polite and not questioning of her profession. I gather that she, as a female doctor, must get strange looks and whispered mutterings, just as I have for years, ever since being first recommended for the Acadamae. I am still the only Romani to ever go through those halls, and often feel like an outsider.
Others drifted in - a more dignified, and younger, army officer with a Scottish accent; an old Chinese man and his grand-daughter; and finally an elegant but haughty Japanese lady identified as Lady Wordsworth. The name is familiar, she is somewhat famous, although for what I cannot recall at the moment. Then our host appeared, wove us a tale of theft and death, and asked us to take her revenge for her - and for us. I questioned the need for revenge - I prefer restoration - but most of the rest seemed a little bit more inclined than I. Only the lady doctor seemed to share my concern for the innocents that might be caught in the crossfire. Our host then provided us with a tarot reading, which did not seem to bode either ill or good. I wonder if she truly has the sight or not...
The Lt., however, was obviously a man of action, much like myself. We left well before the others to go see what we could find. The Isle of Dogs is a dingy area of the city. I have been there before, for reasons not best shared with my companions yet, but it has been a while. Not much has changed, and if anything the buildings are even more run down than ever. We quickly located the lair of the villain, ascertained that there were three obvious entrances and that all of them were barred, and that there appeared to be no windows available. I suggested to the Lt that there might be another entrance below, near the water, hidden from sight. I wish I could swim, but my parents share the natural reluctance of Romani around water and never permitted me to learn, so the Lt. went by himself.
Not long after he left the carriage with the rest of the "revenge squad" arrived. I handed over the ungainly weapons the Lt had left in my charge (a rifle and a long sword of some kind) to the Major. The old Chinese man then headed toward the front door to knock as we heard a dog barking from somewhere inside. I decided that the Lt might need some assistance, so used my meager powers to walk across the water to locate him. I found a small skiff floating away, dropped into that and steered for under the building, where I located him hanging from a ladder. Above him somewhere was an entrance, and a barking dog, and other faces looking down. I tried to get his attention in case he wanted to drop into the boat and escape, but he looks determined to bull on ahead. Therefore I must prepare myself to follow. If my brother is in there, I WILL be bringing him home.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment