The thudding beat of the drum, the strum of the Tambura the warmth of the fire closing in on my face. Opening my mouth I took the ball of fire into my mouth and put it out with a staggered breath. Taking that last lit torch I spun around, the bells on my dress jingling. Pulling a cartwheel I spun the torch with my fingers and then extinguished it like I had done with the first one. Hearing the jangle of coins landing in my uncle's hat I smiled and collected it.
Gillie, my older brother stood and snatched the hat from my hands "Only 2 gold pieces and 3 coppers."
Jal and I sighed. That wasn't enough to feed three people. That was hardly enough to get a decent meal for one person. And there was no way I was going to let Jal and Gillie, go hungry again just to feed me. Shaking my head I took the coins and pressed them into their hands. "Go get yourselves something to eat. I'll try to earn some more money."
The two men argued with me, "Damara, come on you need to eat something."
Taking the now empty hat I took off down the street. My uncle, brother and I, had come to Paris only a couple days ago, in the hopes of escaping the harsh winter in another part of Europe. Both my parents had been killed during an attack on our caravan, my uncle, brother and I were the only survivors of that night. We've been traveling together ever since.
Well the one up side do being a gypsy was a lack of crowding in the streets. People tended to make way for us, fearing that we would twist their minds, and rob them blind. Of course I was raised better than that. No matter how much I hungered I refused to steal something, well I would steal, if it was for someone else. My pride would never allow me to steal for myself.
I was about to turn down an alley when I noticed a small crowd of children gathering. Curious I followed the mass and found myself watching a puppet show. A small brightly clad hand puppet popped out and started to talk to the children. Then a man, which the puppet resembled, appeared and started to whack his puppet twin on the head. I laughed at the spectacle; one of the children in the back looked up at me and flinched. I sighed; let's just say I can't be called attractive. I had the typical black hair, and milk chocolate skin, I also had an unusual shade of slate grey eyes. But my hands were covered in old burns earned from several long hours of practice. There was also a half moon scar that caressed the right side of my face, a souvenir from the attack that stole my parents from me.
Going down on one knee I smiled at the little girl. She mirrored my expression nervously. Shaking my head I reached into the folds of my sash and pulled out a doll. It had golden yarn hair, black button eyes, and a green dress covered in mismatched bells. The child's eyes lit up with delight when I handed it to her. The bells jingled as she hugged it close to her body. Smiling I spoke in a mothering tone. "There is a story behind those bells little one. Whenever they jingle it strikes happiness into the coldest of hearts, it brings love to ones who are considered unlovable, and it puts out a saucer of milk for a starved street cat."
The child giggled and hugged me around the waist and ran off, holding the gift. Turning her head every once in a while to smile back at me. Suddenly a shadow was cast over me, my blood froze. The only word that flashed through my mind in that instant was, Guards. Reaching into the folds of my dress I snatched my knife and spun, only to meet the end of a sword. My eyes landed on a large black horse, flanked back two guards on each side. The rider of the beast was an older man, wearing the garb of a Judge. Slowly I stood and backed away, only to feel someone from behind push me forward roughly. "It would seem you were trying to push your heathen ways into the mind of that innocent child."
Out of all the gypsies in Paris, I believe I had the worst luck. Of all the guards in the city, of the entire close minded people in this city. I managed to attract the attention of Judge Frollo, the man that my uncle, brother and I had been advised to avoid. Looking around at the puppet show, I found the puppet man gone. Bowing my head I replied respectfully. "No, my lord, I was merely giving the child a gift."
No matter how hard I fought the sardonic remark. It burst from my mouth. "I do hope that my kindness will not be taken as an offense due to my heritage."
I bit my lower lip, hoping that by doing so I could snatch back the words. Of course there was no taking them back. "How dare you! Men arrest her!"
While the men drew closer I took out a bottle of straight up liquor and a book of matches. I only used matches for defense and distraction, due to the expense of them, since they were a new thing. Taking a mouthful of the foul drink I took a match and struck it against my cheek. Holding the open flame close to my mouth I spat out the alcohol, spewing flames in every direction, distracting Judge Frollo and his guards. Turning I ran, sliding under the legs of one of guards, adding more scrapes to my legs.
The guards had managed to regain their composure, and pursued me, with Judge Frollo yelling out orders at their backs. I felt as if my lungs were ready to explode, I think I stepped on a shard of glass. Hot sticky blood was running like sweat down my legs, and bloody footprints made it impossible for me to hide. As I was running past an ally a hand shot out and plucked me out of the street, I was about to shriek but the hand clamped itself around my mouth muffling the noise. Hearing the sound of hooves clicking on the pavement I froze against the stranger. The guards reported back to him. "Sorry sir. It would seem that she disappeared."
I could not see the reaction on the Judge's face. But from the way the Guards were recoiling in fear, I could only assume he was more than angry. The men seemed to relax when Frollo spoke in calmer voice. "Back to your duties, she is only one filthy gypsy."
The men nodded, and soon the streets were empty. The stranger was still gripping my mouth. Snarling I bit down on his hand, causing him to sweat swear and yank his hand away. Snatching my knife I held the blade to my captor's throat. It was the Puppet Master. Feeling a sharp sting in my foot I dropped my knife. Looking at the injury I groaned. I had sliced my foot open, and it was wonder I had been able to run on it. Feeling the gaze of the Puppet Master I looked up into his face. He still looked rather miffed at my biting him. Feeling a trickle of guilt for my action I apologized. "Sorry."
Satisfied with the apology, he broke the silence. "You should have not insulted the Judge in such a way."
Taking off my sash I ripped it into thirds. Wrapping a shred of it around one leg and then the other, then I wrapped my foot. It wouldn't take long for the scrapes and cuts to heal. Thankfully I was gifted with quick healing. "My derision is simply part of my charm."
I noticed the man looking at my hands, taking in the burns. "It is very rare for a woman to be a fire dancer, no?"
Pausing I looked up at him, through a curtain of black hair. "No."
Tying a knot in my makeshift bandages, I gripped the wall of the alley and stood slowly. My legs were fine, but when I put any weight on my foot, pain seared through my veins. The bandage would due until I was in the safe company of Jal and Gillie. Ignoring the man I walked down the street, keeping my eyes open for guards.
