"LET GO OF ME THIS INSTANT!" The girl shrieked. She fought bitterly to free her arms and failed. Heaving a sigh she lowered her head and let her body go slack too spent to continue to fight. Tears of anger and frustration streamed down her cheeks; anger for having let herself be caught and frustration for having placed her dagger in a place to awkward to be properly grabbed in her current position.
Suddenly the two men who'd been leading her along for the past few moments shoved her forward. She hit the ground hard and immediately started coughing on the rising cloud of dirt. There was laughing all around her; she looked up from the feet of the crowd she'd fallen in to and stared in fear and disgust at their grinning bronze faces, none of them offering to help with her predicament.
Grinning…Bronze?
"Wait, are you gypsies?" The girl exclaimed, suddenly frantic. The faces around her suddenly turned cruel and harsh.
"Why yes, as a matter of fact." A man to her left said. "Dirty gypsy scum is the correct term, I believe."
"How's it feel to be at the other end of the food chain, damn Parisian!" A woman yelled at her. The others broke into a chorus of agreement and proceeded to shower her with insults and debris. She winced as some of the larger stones hit her back, but quickly forgot about them. Now that she knew whom these people were it was imperative that she reveal to them her true identity before it was too late.
"Wait, I'm a gypsy too! Honest, I am!"
"Yeah, right." One of her captors snorted. The other around her laughed even harder, then one man pointed a chubby finger at her and addressed his friend.
"A gypsy, huh? Just look at those clothes she's wearing! Have you ever seen a gypsy walking around with all that frippery?"
"Much less with the money to afford all that frippery. Looks like another rich brat to me. String her up, quick; I've got a daughter who'd love that dress!"
More shouting arose from the crowd as they began to argue over who would lay claim to the items on her corpse after her hanging. She cried out and began to thrash as she was pushed forward toward the gallows looming a few yards before her.
"For the love of God, no! I'm a gypsy I tell you, a full-blooded gypsy! You're making a terrible mistake! STOP!"
They had arrived at the base of the platform on which the gallows stood. Adrenaline rushed through the girl's vain and she fought with renewed vigor, but to no avail. She was led up the steps to the hemp rope hanging from a beam above her. They fitted the noose around her neck despite her cries and desperate pleas. She was going to die, and no one was going to save her.
"Where's the king?" One of her captors asked his companion.
"In his tent, most likely. He was quite drunk this afternoon; a bit too much time at the pubs I'm afraid. He said should anyone sneak in to just string them up and not disturb him." He surveyed the crowd and grimaced. "Though with all this raucous it's a wonder he's not woken up yet."
The other man shrugged. "His loss then. Are we ready, Byron? Then let's pull the lever!"
"NO! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING! I'M A GYPSY I TELL YOU, A GYPSY!" The girl was on the point of tears now. The men ignored her cries and the one called Byron reached down and grasped the lever that would seal her fate. She squeezed her eyes shut and choked down her sobs, waiting for the end.
"STOP!"
Everyone present turned to face the owner of the voice that had boomed above the crowd. They parted like a river before the person, who strode up to the front of the group without paying any attention to the confused and slightly annoyed looks directed at him. He was a tall, thin man with an equally narrow face, framed by a goatee and short hair that began high, high up on his forehead. He stared at the girl, his eyes widening in amazement; she returned the look, her tears changing to ones of joy and her face shining with hope.
"Clopin! Clopin it's me, Cadence!" She called out to him, smiling. "Cadence, your sister!"
***********
Cadence scowled and gripped the sides of her hood, pulling it around her face. It was late December; the Christmas holidays had just passed, and all around France the weather had taken a sharp nosedive as it headed for the extreme chills of January.
Shivering, she released her hold on the hood and tightened her cloak. In her haste to leave her latest place of residence she had neglected to bring along some more fitting winter clothing, and the light fall dress she was wearing did little to fend off the bitter cold.
Raising her chin, she stepped out of the shaded side street she'd been hiding in and into the rich evening light of the Place de Parvis Notre Dame.
The square before the great Cathedral was always lovely in the late hours of the day; it was a time when fewer visitors, shoppers and passer-bys filled the wide expanse, those who sold goods there during the day were either gone or in the process of finishing the packing process; those who performed there, mainly the Gypsies, had also finished their displays for the day and had begun to count their coins, with those who'd been lucky enough to earn a few extra heading off to celebrate their good fortune at the taverns. An evening in the square often gave walkers a relaxed feeling, and much to her annoyance it was having the same effect Cadence as well.
She strode further out into the square and examined her surroundings; before her was a man, a gypsy, in a gaudy purple-and-yellow outfit, packing up what appeared to be a puppet cart. There were excited children running to-and-fro across the cleared area, their cheerful cries and whoops echoing from the buildings. There were other things going on as well; merchants hitching up their wagons and steering their beasts back home; a girl with chickens trying futilely to catch the creatures as the ran squawking about her feet; but none of these things interested Cadence at the moment. She was keeping her eyes open for a different sort of prey.
At that moment her eyes caught sight of a mounted soldier trotting across the square, liquor bottle in hand and darkly eyeing the gypsies cleaning up after their long days of performing.
"Target spotted." She thought happily. She immediately changed her look and posture; in the span of a few seconds she'd gone from a suspicious cloaked figure to a young, innocent girl with laughing eyes and a hint of sensuality behind her slightly pouting mouth. Putting on her sexiest smirk she sauntered over the guard she'd spotted before, slightly relieved to discover that his friends, other guards on patrol, had joined him. She was always wary when it came to dealing with drunks, especially ones with weapons; having sober people around not only increased the safety but gave her a much wider range of subjects to choose from.
"Bonsoir, bons soldats. Et comment allez-vous tout ce soir?"
The guards looked from one another then back to the pretty girl who had walked up and addressed them so boldly.
"Fine, Madame. May we help you with something?" One of them, a sandy blonde haired man, asked.
"Oh, nothing really…well, maybe there is one thing…no wait, that's silly of me. To even think of troubling you gallant men with my petty problems-!"
"Trust me miss," The blonde one said smiling. "It's no trouble at all."
"Well," She said, returning the look. "In that case, I'm a bit stuck as to where I'll be staying this evening; I'm new here you see, and I haven't had the time to acquaint myself with the new surroundings- but surely one of you can help me?" She lowered her eyes and opened her lips slightly, then waited.
The guards conferred for a moment then turned to her. "Well miss, there are quite a few taverns and the like about," Began the drinking guard. "But since you've come here by yourself you might find them a bit too expensive for even a short stay, and to be frank, they're not very safe. On the other hand, my companions and I know of places nearby that are much safer and where the rent is cheaper- my friend Davet here, for example, has a nice little house with an extra room you may stay in."
"And exactly what is the fee to stay with you, Davet?" Cadence asked. Davet turned out to be the blonde guard who had addressed her earlier.
"A few coins are all I charge, and if you need it I can help you get settled as well. And perhaps, mademoiselle, I may have the pleasure of your company for dinner some night?"
Cadence smirked and leaned on the drinking guard's horse, briefly forgetting to use her sweet and gentle tone.
"The pleasure of my company, eh? And is dinner all we will be having on this lovely evening, or do you have some hidden motives in mind for a poor girl like me?"
The guards were startled by this sudden change of tone. Cadence realized her mistake and quickly tried to smooth it over.
"Surely Garde de Monsieur had some other activity in mind? Dancing, or cards perhaps?"
Davet looked doubtful. "You play cards?"
"I live for cards." Cadence breathed, and stared dreamily at him.
"You know, you're quite unlike any of the other mannerly ladies who traverse these streets, Madame. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were nothing but a dirty prostitute looking for some cash. And you know, Madame, prostitution IS illegal in Paris."
A guard with morals. Ouch. This could be a problem.
"I assure you I am nothing of the sort, Monsieur. I am but a poor young woman by herself in a big city, seeking a bit of shelter. If you doubt my intentions so I could always find an inn-"
"And pray tell, just HOW did you come to arrive in Paris Madame? It's unusual for a young woman to go traveling alone, unless she has family here. Which I assume you do not, since you are so desperately seeking shelter."
"I…I um…" Cadence glanced around the square, checking all her escape routes.
"Well, what have you got to say, miss?" The guard's friendly tone had been completely discarded. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he waited.
"Well, I'm here to see family, you see and…bye!"
Abandoning her plan, she sprinted across the square and turned into one of the side streets. She heard the pounding of hooves behind her and realized that Davet and the other guards must be chasing her. She hitched up her skirts and increased her speed, weaving around people and debris in her flight.
"Stop right there!" A voice shouted. Cadence ventured a glance over her shoulder and instantly regretted it. Though they had had a harder time weaving in and out of the people and carts that littered the streets, the guards were catching up quickly. She looked desperately for a ladder, and alleyway, anything that she could use to lose them…there!
There was a large alley between two of the buildings, big enough for a person but too narrow for a horse. She turned sharply into it and plowed through to the other side, turning left down the street and then right again at another alley. She heard the angry shouts of the guards as well as the impatient tapping of their horses, then both faded as she gained more distance from them. Once the sounds had completely gone she slowed her flight down to a steady jog, and after weaving through a few more streets she finally collapsed to the cobblestones in exhaustion. Sweat poured down her face and soaked the front and back of her dress. Her breath was harsh, and her body heaved in its frantic attempt to obtain much-needed oxygen. In her flight the cloak had become oppressively hot and she pulled it off and used it to wipe the sweat from her brow. Reaching into the purse at her side, she pulled out a hair clip and swept her hair into a short, messy bun. She then rested her hands on her knees and leaned forward, still trying to get some air.
After sitting like that for a few moments she realized that it was now twilight and high past time for her to have found a place to sleep for the night. She might have found one with the guards, had it not been for Davet's persistent questioning. Cadence couldn't understand it; she'd been all over Europe and not yet met one person so reluctant to spend the night with a beautiful woman. She'd been questioned before, to be sure, but nothing that her feigned innocence couldn't evade. What was it with these Parisian guards? It hadn't been like this in the old days…
Her stomach rumbled. She glared down at her belly, which rumbled again, louder this time.
"All right, all right, I know you're hungry…but what do you want ME to do about it? I can't risk going into any taverns now- what if one of the guards that chased me is in there?"
But her stomach paid no heed to her protests and continued to sing its grave song. She rolled her eyes and grabbed her cloak of the concrete.
"Well, not much I can do here…I'll find a place to sleep for the night and then maybe, MAYBE I'll see about getting some food into you."
She stood up and brushing the dirt from the back of her dress, set off down the dark lane.
She trudged along for fifteen minutes without seeing any signs of life, much less an inn or a tavern.
"At this rate I'll be stuck in the gutter." She grumbled.
Suddenly there was a terrifying screech behind her. She froze and then swiftly ducked behind some mounds of garbage piled on the side of the street. Her hand flew to the dagger buried in a hidden pocket on her dress and she crouched, waiting to see what it was that had made the awful noise.
The screech was heard again, followed by other sounds, these more familiar but still unnerving.
Laughter? She thought, and then she saw the light of torches coming round a bend in the road. She crouched down further and peered over the edge of a large hunk of moldy cheese.
She didn't need to wait long. Soon the torch-bearing figures came into view, running carelessly down the street. Behind them came the patter of many feet, along with wild screaming and eccentric shouts of glee. More torches were behind them, these ones belonging to large figures that shouted angrily at the children running before them. For now that Cadence could see them in the light it was quite obvious that all the running figures were children and the ones in back were city guards. She ducked down as the group ran past her, tossing rays of red light onto her hiding place. Luckily for her the guards were too preoccupied to pay any attention to a pile or garbage on the street and they continued on their pursuit.
When the lights had gone a fair way down the street she stood up and picked the garbage off her outfit. Scrunching her nose up at the smell she looked in the direction the children had gone and smiled slightly. Though she wasn't fond of them, it was a known fact that urchins always knew the best places to sleep at night. She set off after them at a steady pace, making sure to keep her distance, so that if the guards turned around she wouldn't run right into their arms.
Before her she could see the nearest set of torches slow to a halt. Seeing no hiding place she pulled her cloak around her, curled up into a ball and pretended to be asleep. The guards started back toward her, talking to each other between short gasps of breath.
"Damn gypsy brats! If I were a few years younger I'd catch one of them and string 'im up by his toes-"
"I still don't know how they got away from us!" The other guard interjected. One minute they were there and the next they were just gone-"
"Magic, I tell you! They're all little demons. I bet the earth opened up and took them in just when we were about to catch them."
"Yes, yes, that must be it. There's no way a few children can beat the town guards!"
Their egos now intact, the two men ran walked back down the street. Cadence left in the opposite direction, smiling. She knew perfectly well the places children could find to hide when the need arose. After all, wasn't she one of those pitiful urchins once?
Her faith was rewarded, and she soon heard the giggles of the children a few yards away. She waited patiently in the darkness and presently shadowy figures leapt out from a number of places; inside crates, under garbage, scrambling down on vines and lattice from the rooftops of the houses. She could tell by how simple their hiding places were that they were obviously not very experienced, and she was further convinced of this by the poor lookout job they did before heading off. She followed them from a distance, through alleys and gardens, gutters and squares, until they came to a stop in a desolate graveyard situated on a hill.
This was their stop for the night? A graveyard? Never in her wanderings had she come upon children so bold as to step onto the grounds of the dead unless it was to flee or to fulfill some foolish dare. Just as she was pondering if these children were indeed looking for somewhere to sleep or not, she saw them move stealthily toward a tomb perched on the very peak of the hill. One of them, the biggest, looked around cautiously before gripping the sides of the massive stone on top of the tomb and trying to heave it off. He whispered something harshly to the other children and they too grabbed hold and together slid it far enough sideways so that they could climb in. The biggest child waited until the others had disappeared into the crypt before slipping in after them. A number of little hands appeared and they pulled the stone back over the crypt, and soon all was as it had been before- Silent, grave and foreboding.
"Are they really going to sleep in a tomb?" Cadence wondered aloud, then began to maneuver her way across through the grounds until she reached the grave in question. It looked normal enough, but as she inspected it closer she saw there was no name or date on the stone; just a corroded stone cross with a halo above it. She frowned and rapped her knuckles sharply on the top of the tomb, and instantly regretted it: the slab seemed fairly light, but it still had the same thickness as an ordinary piece of stone. She nursed her sore knuckles for a moment before a decision. She carefully flexed her sore fingers and then laid both hands on one side of the stone. She wasn't sure how deep this crypt was, but if it could fit all those children then surely there was room enough for her. And if there wasn't she'd just kick the brats out and keep it as her own place for the night.
She pushed the slab aside until it created an opening wide enough for her to fit through. She sat down on the edge of the tomb and cautiously swung one leg over the side. Her foot met with earth, and after a short drop there was another piece of firm ground below that.
"So it's a staircase." She said. A staircase in a grave? Perhaps there was more to this than met the eye; but she was desperate, and at this point she would have jumped right into the city jail cell if it meant not spending the night on the filthy streets of Paris. She swung her other leg over and lowered herself down onto the fifth stair, then reached up and pulled the stone slab back over the opening. As soon as the slab slid all the way across the gap the faint moonlight that had accompanied Cadence on her nocturnal venture disappeared and she was plunged into inky blackness.
She waited for her eyes to adjust to the light before proceeding, carefully making her way down the slippery staircase. When she reached the bottom Cadence let out a startled gasp as her clean shoes sunk into soft muck. She recoiled back onto the stairs; a fatal error, for she immediately lost her footing and after a second of trying to right herself she fell hard onto her spine, sending shivers of pain up her back. She groaned and pulled herself up, this time not really caring that her feet were going to be dirty. The pain continued to shoot up her spine; she arched her back and rubbed the point of impact with her thumbs, but that only served to further aggravate the area. She gave up and started to mumble curses to herself, stomping noisily through the muck.
She walked until she came to a large skull-lined cavern. The place was dank and musty, and just as dark as the rest of the tunnel. It was at this point she realized that the grave she had crawled into was no ordinary resting place, but an entrance to the city catacombs.
"What the he-"
Before she could finish her sentence there was a loud rattling from the walls and she was thrown to the floor. Confused and angry, she began thrash with the mysterious attacker before getting a good look at them. When she had twisted around enough to see them she stared in complete horror at the figure above her with the cavernous eyes and the pitted grin.
The skeletons on the walls have come to life! She thought with a horror. This realization stunned her for the few moments the skeleton needed to immobilize her. She was pulled to her feet and shoved forward into the arms of yet another skeleton, this one burlier than his companion. But wait! Skeletons were merely bone; how could they have flesh and weight? These were men, not monsters!
"Let me go, what do you think you're doing? Get off of me!" She shouted, but one man clamped a hand over her mouth and attempted to swing her into his arms. She struggled and fell to the ground again, then received a swift kick to the back for her trouble. The already bruised are throbbed anew and she groaned. She was once again forced to her feet and pushed, kicking and biting all the way, down a dark tunnel until they arrived at what was most definitely an underground village of some sort.
It is at this point the reader joined us, so we won't go into detail what happens next. Instead we will pick up where we left off in the begging, and learn more about Cadence and how she can claim to be the sister of Clopin, King of the Parisian Gypsies.