Pt. 13
Gideon set the data crystal Max had given him into the computer and began to scan the files with Dr. Chambers and Alwyn. One file contained nothing but photos of the Draco family, used by the artist who had created the portraits as reference material. An image flashed on the screen, taken in the style of the late Twentieth Century. It was the Draco family at a charity benefit, surrounded by the elite of society, all pretending to be interested in the charity of the moment. Gideon stared at the photo intently, picking out the model for the first three portraits easily. Damien Draco was center-stage in the photo, staring off into space as though totally unaware of the photographer. "There's the blond, the one Dr. Grey called the Phoenix" Gideon commented, gesturing towards the image in the center of the frame. He frowned, scrutinizing the cold expression on the man's face. "Real arrogant type, isn't he?"
"And there's the dark Professor McMasterson" Dr. Chambers said, motioning towards the dark haired man beside Draco, looking back at something just out of the frame. The man was smiling and even in this flat image Sarah could almost see the twinkling of his eyes. "He looks like he was having a good time."
"Go on to the next image." Alwyn said, leaning forward in his chair, interested in spite of himself.
Gideon complied and found himself looking at the image of the dark-haired woman from the portrait. She also was looking away from the camera, absorbed by the conversation of someone unseen in the image. Behind her, stood a familiar figure. "Well, there's our boy – Marianne Draco's bodyguard." He looked carefully at the image, noting that the man's eyes were riveted on the woman in front of him while she appeared to be occupied elsewhere.
"Are there more such photos?" Alwyn asked.
"Looks like the artist had pretty close access to the family." Gideon replied, quickly skimming through the rest of the image files. "She's got tons of photos of all the family members, some posed and some not." He stopped suddenly on one photo and whistled softly. "If looks could kill…" he commented, gesturing towards the screen.
The image before them was obviously not a planned photo, taken in what appeared to be a large, dark parlor. The rich tapestries and fine carvings in the background identified the spot as being probably one of the Draco family mansions. Damien Draco was again in the center of the photo, lounging in an overstuffed chair. His head was tilted back to talk to his sister Marianne, who was leaning over the top of the chair, a book in her hand. Barely a step behind her was the Swordsman, standing with his hands clasped behind his back and staring down at the man in the chair with an a frown, a look of cold anger in his eyes.
"If looks could kill, Captain, that man in the chair would be dead a thousand times over." Alwyn continued Gideon's thought, a shiver running up his spine. He knew that look, had seen it just once before on Galen's face after the death of Isabel. It had been there when he had finally spoken to his old friend about the ones who had betrayed them, his enemies who had not survived their second encounter with him. Alwyn wondered, briefly, what Damien Draco had done to the Swordsman to warrant such abiding hate.
"This is all very interesting from a historical stand-point but does it tell us anything useful?" Dr. Chambers asked.
"No. You two keep looking, I'm going to talk to Max again." Gideon relinquished his chair to the older mage and headed out the door, leaving the other two to continue their search through the records.
Marianne slowly moved from the shadows of the Healer's hall into the glaring light of the street. She glanced up at the tense figure still standing before the door, waiting for her return. She frowned, her eyes taking in the crowds trying to go about their business without calling attention to themselves. "One last stop before we reach the castle," she declared.
"Where do you wish to go?" he asked, annoyed at the delay.
"To your home," she replied pensively. "Don't ask me why, but I suddenly feel the need to see it."
"My home?" he repeated dully. "I have no home."
"You did once, a long time ago. I need to see that place, to get a feel for what happened all those years ago."
He shot an angry look at the closed doorway behind them. "She told you what was done to us, to my family and myself?"
"Yes. What lovely neighbors you had then, Swordsman!" she replied, sarcastically. "I'm surprised they didn't hold orgies under the full moon and make blood sacrifices during tea time." She watched the crowds hurry through their errands, her eyes following first one pretty girl then another. "So tell me, what was her name?"
"Whose name?" he countered, standing his ground.
"The witch who betrayed you to the Jinn." Marianne watched as one particularly haughty young miss loudly berated a cringing maidservant as they walked around a flower seller's stall. The girl was a conventional beauty, all teeth and hair and long legs. In Marianne's estimation, there was nothing terribly special about her, nothing that a dozen other girls didn't posses in spades. She wondered briefly if this had been the girl the healer spoke of, the one who had betrayed the Swordsman when he had been just a boy. "Was she pretty? Did she have a brain in her head or was she just a pawn in her families schemes?"
"She knew exactly what she did," he responded coldly, his eyes following her gaze. "Ask her yourself if you are so inclined. She stands only a few yards ahead of you." He nodded in the direction of the villager, who looked up, aware she was being observed.
Marianne looked up and flinched at the naked hatred reflected in the man's eyes as he watched the village girl walk around the square. "You must have cared a great deal for her to hate her so much now," she whispered softly.
"I don't remember," he responded coldly. "It was a long time ago."
Marianne turned away, and watched the other woman as she walked towards them. "Do you at least remember her name?"
"Yes," he growled, pulling his cloak around himself to shadow his face. "Her name was Isabel."