Gypsies Kiss

Prologue

The crowd was nearly overwhelming, so he'd heard probably one of the biggest attendances to date but then he seemed to hear that every year. He strode purposefully through and people stepped aside, it was not a conscious thing they did it just seemed to happen. Some stopped and turned offering a nodded a greeting but always averting their eyes as they did, the barest of sign of acquiescence to the title he held but was not allowed to show. To most he went unnoticed just one more person among the thousands enjoying the spectacle of the Steam Fair on a warm late summer's day.

A step behind was his shadow keeping pace. A hulking brute more blunt force than anything else but it served a purpose and until something better came along it would have to do. He knew it was frowned upon calling upon a Golem, they were dangerous and unpredictable and it took a strong will to subvert them to your purpose, but no one dared voice an open opinion on his choice of guard. Ahead of them the caravan stood alone as if no others wanted to be associated with it, painted in gaudy colours and adorned with cheap faux gold lamps and decorations it was not something any self respecting Romanichal would want to associate with. Without slowing his pace he mounted the steps and went into the dank interior.

She was everything that was wrong with his people today, everything that he despised about what they had allowed themselves to become. Where once they had been strong and feared now they were caricatures and embraced the cartoonish image society expected of them. She sat there stooped over the crystal ball, a small crystal barely bigger than a grapefruit, her body lost in thick colourful robes and cheap imitation jewels adorned her fingers and hung from her ears. She muttered under her breath, chants and prayers that she had learned but doubtful knew their true meaning, her hands waving over the glass which glowed from within with a blue smoke shrouded light. To the faithless she pandered to no doubt she looked as if she were summoning some great power. He grimaced, he knew she was affront to real Romanichal but like his shadow she served a purpose and he knew he could not go through the usual channels for this. Despite her tricks and trinkets she did have some skill.

"I see darkness dogging your steps. The Hanged Man his skull red with blood. The war crow, chooser of the slain made real and all will cry in despair."

"Save your script for the tourists you know who I am and you know why I am here."

She looked up at him her face half obscured by long straggly hair that had escaped the scarf around her head, she grunted something he couldn't catch but knew it was a curse in his parents tongue. He chose to let it go and reminded himself she served a purpose.

"The future that is foretold shows it is of your blood the child that will rule. You are Patriarch the seed must be yours."

"But my brother..."

"...is of lesser tainted stock."

He forced himself to keep calm and not strike out, being reminded of a hinted at dark family secret was not what he was here for.

"You are Patriarch it must be you if not then another generation must face a future unfulfilled."

He knew what he must do but he knew that in doing it he would cause a rift so great it may never heal. He sighed and hung his head then looked up and nodded to the Golem who stepped forward and grabbed the old woman's hair pulling the head back and slit her throat. Blood sprayed across the table some hitting the ball hissing like water on a hotplate as it did. The Golem let go of her hair and she slumped forward knocking the table over and sending the ball crashing to the floor where it shattered, any power it had held now spent. The Golem looked down a grin playing on his lips as he wiped the knife on her back.

"Didn't see that cummin did she?" He grunted in a harsh voice as his master turned and left the caravan.

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