Beatrice Caligari, the head of the Tessatore and the most powerful Fate Witch in Vodacce, sat alone. Her prison was a sewing room in a wing of the Caligari estate that nobles and servants alike feared to tread in. It was opulent in its finery; it's curtains were imported Crescent silk, and her delicate feet were tucked under her on a couch of inky black leather. She did not mind being alone; she was used to it. Since she was a small child she had been feared. Even other strega feared her, although their reasons were different than the superstitious Caligari family. She was said to be a great hag, a woman whose deeds had scarred her face with the Lashes of Fate, and none had seen her face without its black, spiderweb veil in a decade.
She had no husband; all the suitors that Vincenzo had tried to force upon her had died, mysteriously. They had fallen off of the catwalk bridges of Cailgari island into the canals, or been run over in the streets by carraiges suddenly out of control of their driver's hands. Vincenzo had gotten the message. The merchant prince himself was nervous, now, in her presence. He no longer made demands. He pleaded. He begged, and she granted his requests on occasion. Less and less did he dare to make the long walk down her wing, to rap nervously upon her door and request a small favor from her.
She was alone, left to stare at the strands around her, and decipher the intricate crisscross of passion, commerce, conflict, and authority. Left, in her own fashion, to gaze into the future and decipher the chain reaction of love and betrayal, to determine who would rise and who would fall. It was a very old game for her. She rarely played anymore, although she knew where a slight tug could lead to fortune, love, or death. Such frivolities no longer interested her - she had a greater game.
A flash of color amidst the tapestry that surrounded her caught her eye. She had been waiting for it; she had foreseen it fifteen years ago. A piece had finally fallen into place. She smiled, the corners of her mouth rising slightly, wryly. It was an unfamiliar expression for her. Her pupils contracted from the dilation that turned her brown eyes into a black void, and she collected her skirts and rose. It was time.
She walked out of her room, out of her wing. She walked past startled servants and disbelieving nobles. She did not suffer their stares; she did not see them. Her body was in motion, but her mind was miles away. She slipped out the front door without even a protest from the shocked guards. The pair at the door looked at one another; a Fate Witch was forbidden into the city alone, but neither of them dared lay hands upon Beatrice Caligari. Better the wrath of Vincenzo than the briefest irritation from Beatrice Caligari. They nodded to one another, resuming their post, both forgetting what they had seen.
Beatrice bustled on, walking determinedly, heedless of the stares she drew or the mothers who pulled their children's gaze away from the strange lady in black. The strega walked for hours before she reached her destination, and stared down triumphantly at the docks of Reinascienza. She slipped down staircases and finally onto solid ground, her determined gait and steely gaze forestalling objections. She had a ship to catch.
She saw the ship, finally - The Santa Celia, in harbor and pulling up its moorings. It prepared to leave. A Vodacce sailor was just preparing to pull up the gangplank when her foot set upon it, and he looked in surprise to his captain as the slim body of the Strega climbed it without apprehension. Captain Sebastiano Scogna, a handsome man with long black hair that flowed to his shoulders, looked in puzzlement between the sailor and the woman who had just boarded his ship. He squinted at her veil. Perhaps one man in a thousand in Vodacce knew enough about the veils of the Fate Witches to be able to sort out the hidden message in the stitching of her veil. Most assumed they recognized rank and power in one another through an intuitive knowledge given them by Sorte, but the truth was more mundane. Each strega carefully stitched the degree of control she had gained into her veil, that another strega could know, at a glance, whether she dealt with a young Clotho, a seasoned Lachesis, or ...
"Nonna Atropos," said Sebastiano. He bowed at the waist, keeping his eyes down to hide the fear in them. "To what do we owe this honor?" He swallowed, quietly. There was only a single Nonna Atropos on the whole of Caligari isle, but no simple sailor, no captain should know that. It would not do to call her by her name, lest she grow suspicious. The Tessatore was dedicated to keeping the Fate Witches of Vodacce in line, obeying their husbands and fathers, and if they knew what he and his crew did...
"You courier Fate Witches, do you not?" Her tone was cold, even.
Sebastiano froze. For a moment, his heart stopped beating as his veins turned to ice and belly flipped over in his guts. He was a dead man, his crew was dead. What mistake had he made? What error in judgement had lead to her discovering his role in smuggling the strega from Vodacce? Could he reach his blade before she could curse? Had she cursed him already?
"I wish to be couried. To Gorivari. Now." She nodded, sharply.
How? How did she know he was bound for Gorivari already? Sebastiano stopped, reasoned with himself. It was impossible - she must wish to go to Gorivari for her own reasons. She could not know that he had been contracted to smuggle another Fate Witch from there, on the very next night. Could she?
"We were headed that way already, Nonna. It will be a pleasure. I'm afraid we won't have any extra room on our way back, Nonna. Will you be staying in Lucani lands?"
"No," she said. "I am not going where you are bound." Her words carried weight, an extra emphasis that sent a chill up Sebastiano's spine. There was a pause, made pregnant by the steel of her eyes. Eyes that Sebastiano could feel even through the dark black veil. She leaned her head back, and Sebastiano had the sensation of watching a viper coil slowly to strike. "But Lucani lands will do for now."
7th Sea copyright Alderac Entertainment Group. Dreamlyrics copyright ASCKEY Ltd.
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