<font color=#af9982 face=times size=2>once a dream did weave a shade; </font>

once a dream did weave a shade;
IP: 129.81.56.130
Posted on January 5, 2015 at 07:48:33 AM by Gaiane & Pallas

Truth be told, not one of the bandits particularly cared whether or not this man had earned what he had or not. They knew he was the kings brother, that he lived in the castle being waited on hand and foot. It was obvious to them that he was well fed and did not want for anything, while they scrounged around on their hands and knees for every penny to pay for the cheapest scraps of bread. Naturally, some of that scrounging involved thievery, but there were some who hired themselves out in various capacities as well. To live in the castle was something they believed Mordred had gotten because of his relationship to the king.

The Duchess tilted her head at the mention that the baron did not need money, as though that would affect her opinion of him. Of course he didn�t need money. He didn�t need money just like the king didn�t need money. The people of the gutters needed money, but the nobility, locked away in their stone walls did not. They were like dragons hoarding a treasure they would never use. She would be more than happy to teach the spoiled man a thing or two about needs and the desire for power.

However, she was not quite so in tune with her magic as the baron was, and did not feel the change in atmosphere relating to the increase and sudden disappearance of magic in the clearing. She didn�t know her touch would not work as it should, though she had enough self-control to prevent herself from expressing the shock on her face. Gaiane was not so controlled, yelling for the baron to watch out for her until realizing that nothing would happen. The Duchess, turned to look at her hostage. �It seems a poor strategy to employ any technique some halfwit is screaming to the world. Almost as poor a strategy as harming a person who could give me what I want.�

The baron made his offer, to with the rest of the troupe vetoed, shouting derogatory remarks and making a scene around the Duchess, who was not impressed by their lack of decorum. It was true enough that the Duchess was unaware of whose child she�d stolen, but from the reaction of the man, and the way in which the baron was speaking, her mother was important. The Duchess had kept tabs on the basic comings and goings of the originals � having to live in a world they�d created, it seemed only beneficial to know the events that might alter political standings � so could narrow her options. However, of those remaining few who would be important and outside the law, she did not want to take her chances.

She glanced at the hand being offered to her, but knew better than to take it. Plenty of guards would use that moment to bind her and take her prisoner. She was not so unawares. �Very well. You can take the girl and let us free. Rest assured, we will meet again. Perhaps then the tides will have turned and we may find ourselves in cooperation rather than opposition. Goodbye, Mordred.�

One bandit threw a pot of water onto the fire, and a cloud of steam obscured the clearing long enough for the entire troupe to vanish in the fog. They�d keep watching, though. The Duchess could be patient, she�d grown used to waiting.

_{photo by wbenpackard at flickr.com | html by merlin}
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