The thought she had before she closed her eyes, was of the mysterious stranger and how she would never rest until she found him.She went back to the Dancing Dragon the next night, and the night after that. She had to find the man who had helped her. Though she had thrown the torn petticoat, tights and underwear away, she was still wearing her ragged dress and cape. She would not let her frightening ordeal change what she set out to do.
She couldn�t help but feel sorry for the men who had attacked her. What could drive a man to do such a thing to a young woman? Were the men really beasts? Were the men mentally feeble? Had they been abused as children, had a woman treated them wrongly, so terribly so as to make them hate women? So many questions filled her young mind, that she scarcely heard the rude comments that were made to her by the taverns inhabitants; the same sort of men who had attacked her.
She barely felt the soft tugging on her cape. She turned around, almost fearfully, into the wise and wrinkled eyes of an old, old woman.
This woman was no lady. She obviously had led a rough and dangerous life. Her face was lined and wrinkled beyond belief, unlike Farayne�s own milky white skin, and her eyes were deep and hard set. She frightened the young woman.
�Deary you �ave been comin� �ere for the past month. What is it you seek �ere? I know what �appaned to ye a few days ago. Don� ye think those men might come back? There are wurse ones to be �ad by too. I can tell you don� belong �ere miss. Why do ye keep comin�?
Farayne smiled kindly.
�I must know why you and others like you are so hated and feared by my people, my class. I have seen the gatekeeper and servants turn away people such as yourself, for begging food and water. I do not understand why.�
The old woman smiled ruefully but her eyes belied her true knowledge. She was wise beyond all compare, and had lived enough experiences for ten lifetimes.
�Come dear, we�ll sit and talk in a corner where it is safer. No one will bother ye while with �Old Aggie.�
Farayne followed the haggard, dirty, old woman to a dimly lit corner. She had been right. Though people stared, no one challenged her while she sat with the old woman. It was if they feared or even�respected the ancient crone.
�I will tell ye me story deary, and then ye will see why your people fear me and others like me, the way ye do.�
The old women�s eyes took on a different cast, they shone brightly, then darkened and eventually they looked tired.
�I was not always a beggar woman. I was not always poor. I was born into wealth and privilege, such as yourself.�
Farayne looked up, unable to help herself. The crone smiled.
�I knew ye was a girl of means the first time I laid eyes on ye miss. That skin, that hair. Though it may have escaped some, it did not escape me.�
The crone patted Farayne�s hand and continued, and as she continued with her story, Farayne noticed that the �rough� mannerisms seemed to melt away. She seemed educated and articulate. She was well spoken and Farayne drank in every word that fell from the crone�s withered lips.
�I was born to Lord Targin and Lady Jhanelle Ansington in the fall of fifteen forty, in Leeds. I had the best of everything, but I was restless and never truly happy. I was always a different child. Though the �cream of society,� I was shunned by my peers. Instead of dancing gaily with my friends, I preferred to read. I read everything I could get my hands on and soon became involved in witchcraft.�
Farayne gasped.
�Oh nothing like that deary. I practiced white magic only, and used my knowledge to help people. I practiced in secret at first. I was too afraid of what would happen if it were ever to become knowledge in my social class, of my doings. The truth was, I felt more at home in nature and communing with God in His church, than going to a building and having someone give me their interpretation of what the Good Book meant.
While the few friends I had rode the countryside on their horses, I chose to let my horse graze and walk with her instead of riding her. To this day I can saddle a horse as well as any man. I used to practice on Sun Chaser, my horse, all the time. Though I never rode her, I thought the knowledge of knowing how to saddle a horse might come in handy at some point in my life.�