Gene of Isis

my skill with a sword, Albray.’

The two men became rather uncomfortable with each other after my introduction. It seemed to make them uneasy that they liked each other better than either would have expected.

‘I thank you for taking such good care of my wife during our misunderstanding,’ Devere ventured.

Albray waved off the gratitude. That is my job.

Devere was slightly disturbed by the claim. I knew he felt that it was his job to protect me.

‘I called Albray to my service before we ever became involved,’ I advised my husband, hoping to avoid any unpleasantness, but the look on Devere’s face told me that I’d just made matters worse.

‘You’ve been advising my wife all along,’ Devere said, sounding a little hurt and annoyed.

Only insofar as her psychic skills are concerned, Albray corrected my husband’s misunderstanding. In matters of the heart I have always pleaded ignorance.

I smiled, amused by his comeback. ‘That is very true.’

I can aid you to find your brother, Albray added, as further comfort. It seems that we now have a common cause.

‘To protect my wife?’ Devere presumed.

Albray nodded. ‘And defeat Molier.’

My husband appeared a little confused by the conviction underlying Albray’s statement.

‘Albray and Molier have a history,’ I explained. In truth, I had yet to learn the story behind the dispute.

Devere looked at Cingar and his men, and was surprised to find that they’d readied several more horses than we needed. The port of Marseilles was but a short ride away. Devere was even more surprised to spy Nanny Beat approaching with bags in hand.

‘Mrs Winston.’ He acknowledged my maidservant and drew my attention to her approach.

The three gypsy girls she’d been caring for were begging her not to go, and she seemed torn between her duty to me and her affection for them. ‘Nanny, you are as psychic as me sometimes, I swear.’

She nodded astutely. ‘I am ready, when you are.’

How the woman could ignore the three weeping girls hanging from her skirts was beyond me. ‘Dear Nanny.’ I touched her cheek, and in that moment she knew that I was releasing her from her duty to me, and her face filled with both sadness and relief.

‘No, mistress.’ She urged me to reconsider. ‘I so wanted to be Nanny to your children.’

I smiled at her sentiment, thinking she’d be waiting a while to fulfil that wish, if I had any say in the matter. ‘If I find myself in need, I shall track you down. Will you return to England, or stay with the Chorons?’

The way the three girls cheered and danced about I figured I had the answer and Nanny’s smile confirmed it. ‘May your spirits keep you safe from ill, just as they always have.’ Nanny hugged me tight.

‘You are the best friend, adviser and mother that anyone could ask for. Thank you for getting me this far.’ I kissed her cheek, and the three girls began dragging Nanny and her possessions back to their caravan.

Cingar, Jessenia and several of the gypsy men rode toward us, towing our mounts along behind them. ‘We should make haste,’ Cingar advised.

‘We should make haste?’ I queried why Cingar, and several of his people, were including themselves in this mission.

‘I owe you my life,’ Cingar informed me, ‘and I vowed to see you safely to the sea. I have connections at the docks and abroad who will prove most useful.’

‘You cannot leave your people without a captain.’ I insisted that he was going beyond the call of duty.

‘They are under Beval’s protection and will journey to Italy with him. I know where I can rejoin them at any given time,’ Cingar said. ‘We Chorons pay our debts.’

‘You owe no debt—’ I attempted to release him.

‘Not only are you wasting your breath,’ Cingar cut me off, ‘but we are wasting precious time.’

‘Wait.’ I remembered Hereford’s journal and ran quickly back to my lodgings to grab it, among other things.

I pulled the Star vial from its hiding place beneath my bedcovers and, to my great amazement, it was indeed filled to the stopper again with the mysterious white glowing substance. ‘Well, I’ll be.’ Still, there was no time to ponder the mystery. I placed the vial in its usual hiding place, then grabbed Hereford’s book and the bottle of foul- smelling insect repellent that I’d found in the back of the hollow red book. I tossed these in a bag with a few other personal effects and bade farewell to my comfortable little caravan.

Perhaps the hasty goodbye was for the best. I had grown so fond of my gypsy friends that parting from them would have been far more difficult had my best friend and her husband not been in great peril. I had no time to think of my own feelings and, before the sorrow of departing had come upon me, I was halfway to the port of Marseilles.

The sound of choppers overhead compelled me to place aside Ashlee’s journal.

Outside my tent I found Akbar and his two charges staring up into the vast blue sky.

‘Is Andre back already?’ I queried, shielding my eyes to get a look at the incoming craft. To my surprise I saw two large helicopters airlifting a huge freight container our way. ‘Surely that is not the shipment of white powder I ordered?’ If it was, the amount I’d been sent was rather excessive.

‘It is Molier,’ Akbar said surely and then looked my way. ‘I told you he would come.’