PART TEN
In a large lower room crouched a small, black figure. A door opened at the far end. The figure stiffened but did not get up. Two guards entered. They walked slowly and lazily over to the figure. One of them kicked it.
“Get up. You’re in the way of the caretaker.” The figure leapt upon them, knocked them out and stole their guns. :)
It ran up the stairs with the guns concealed under its cloak. Down the stairs came the sound of cheering and stomping, then silence. At the top the figure passed quietly through an open door into the crowded hall. Removing its hood, it revealed itself to be a girl, possibly sixteen, with bound up brown hair and a melancholy expression.
She pushed her way to the front of the crowd and sat on the floor by a column to get a good view of the proceedings. At one end of the room was the platform, now crowded with many brightly dressed people. Halfway down the floor was a tall, one-legged table and on it sat a jug and a heavy gold and glass cup. At the other end was a group of guards surrounding the four prisoners and Shine, in the ceremonial cup bearer’s dress.
There was almost complete silence. At a signal from someone on the platform, Shine walked slowly and carefully forward. She poured the red liquid into the cup with extreme care; if she spilled it she would be disgraced. From her seat on the floor the girl watched Shine intently as she made her way up the hall to the platform where Ivan received the cup without giving her a glance. The girl on the floor looked back at the group of prisoners. The two women were weeping quietly as the men comforted them and the guards stood by silently. The dark haired woman looked up at the platform across the room. On it she noticed a small blonde boy beside Ivan and shrieked.
Breaking free of the guards she sped across the floor to clasp him in her arms, but he shrank back from her to a tall lady standing a little behind Ivan. the woman was dragged back by the guards, sobbing.
It ran up the stairs with the guns concealed under its cloak. Down the stairs came the sound of cheering and stomping, then silence. At the top the figure passed quietly through an open door into the crowded hall. Removing its hood, it revealed itself to be a girl, possibly sixteen, with bound up brown hair and a melancholy expression.
Ivan, who had looked on in a bored, uninterested manner, now stepped forward, held the cup high and shouted: “Let the revelry begin!”
The girl quickly got clear of the crowd as it swept in to close the path to the platform. She now stood quite near it, watching the multitude in its uncontrolled movement and noise like an angry sea. She glanced round to watch the occupants of the platform. Shine was shyly smiling at Ivan. He half turned and without looking at her, asked her what she wanted. Blushing uncomfortably, she knelt. “Lord Ivan, I gave you the cup and you still haven’t drunk from it. May I go?” he turned on her a black look and struck her face with the full cup. She fell to the floor with a cry. The girl started forward to help her.
“Leave her alone.” commanded Ivan. She remained where she was. Ivan gave an order to one of his guards who took Shine away. While this was happening the girl slipped behind one of the platform’s curtains to observe what followed. By now the crowd was dancing and singing noisily and chaotically. Ivan walked forward, gave another order and the crowd parted to let the prisoners through. The dark haired woman who had run forward before was hiding her face with her hands. Silence fell.
“Look, Mother,” Ivan said to the tall lady behind him, “I have brought you prisoners.”
The lady looked down her nose at them. “You!” She pointed at the dark haired woman. “What is your name?”
The woman lowered her hands to reveal her tear stained face. She looked defiantly and accusingly at the lady.
“My name is Angele Weaver Crispin and you have my son.” She pointed at the boy. The lady’s face twitched ever so slightly. The girl noticed it and wondered. The lady turned, next, to the two men, Ralf Crispin and Jermaine White, and the light haired woman, Lana Kier. the lady looked them up and down once more and ordered for them to be separated and locked up.
“Let the dancing continue!” and she swept off the platform with the little boy. Once she was gone, Ivan jumped down into the crowd and danced and sang with the rest of them. The girl, now having seen all she wished to see, slipped into a corridor where she met Mirabell and handed over the guns. She left him and retired to a small closet under some stairs where she dressed her hair and changed into a servant’s uniform.
“Let the dancing continue!” and she swept off the platform with the little boy. Once she was gone, Ivan jumped down into the crowd and danced and sang with the rest of them. The girl, now having seen all she wished to see, slipped into a corridor where she met Mirabell and handed over the guns. She left him and retired to a small closet under some stairs where she dressed her hair and changed into a servant’s uniform.
