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Skills & Demons - Non-Crunchy
Book 2, Chapter 45 B

Book 2, Chapter 45 B

"Ah, sweetling, that isn't needed. My home will open for me." The Lady said. The bars nearest them started lowering as if sinking into the ground at her words. Then, directly in front of them, the fence lowered entirely into the ground, soft dirt closing up after the pointed tips sank. Then, with a hand wave, the Lady beckoned everyone forward. "I'm confident you'll get along excellently with Samson and retrieve my family treasures.

Out of the corner of her eye, Charisse caught Henderson jumping a little as the bars started rising before he'd crossed over. Then, she returned her gaze to Lady Amelia, who approached the building, not seeing any threat nearby. Finally, a door opened from the wall, and standing in the entryway was someone Charisse recognized. Samson, the caravan owner, stood there, his colorful outfit, now much more faded and in some areas tattered as if it hadn't been mended or changed since she'd seen him last.

They entered the house, Samson closing the door behind Henderson. The entryway was twelve feet across and deep. A small bench with an older man standing at its end is along one wall. Candles hung from the wall providing adequate light even though no flame danced on the tip. A wide opening led into another room with an elaborate staircase; another opening was to a room with a wall lined in bookshelves.

"Marshal, they won't be staying long, so they'll keep their coats for now." Lady Amelia said.

The older man gave a short nod before turning and walking out of the entryway. Into the room with the staircase, he immediately turned left and disappeared. Amelia stayed silent for a minute after Marshal left. Her eyes looked off toward a spot near the door, over Charisse's head. Charisse worked on locating possible hiding places for threats and an escape route besides the door behind her and the stairs.

"A few days ago," Lady Amelia broke the silence. "Some of my jewelry went missing. I've taken care of the thieves, but they had sold it to a local shop that refuses to give it back. Since the thieves cannot admit their crime to the guard, I have no way of recovering my stolen property."

Charisse's hand covered her mouth as she gasped at what villain would dare to rob or deny Lady Amelia her property. She caught a slight smile on Lady Amelia's face.

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"Here is a map of where the shop is and a description of my jewelry. If you four could go retrieve it tonight and return it to me, I'll reward you."

"No reward necessary, the satisfaction of setting a wrong right will be reward enough." Charisse blurted out over Samson's reply. She didn't hear Reggie or Henderson's response but was confident they were similar.

"Your smile is the only reward I need," Samson said.

"Excellent, then please rest here until a little after midnight. I'll have Marshal notify you. Until then, please make yourselves at home." Lady Amelia said. With a gesture to the side room with the bookshelves, before turning around and walking into the other big room with the stairs. She slides up the stairs out of view as if floating on air.

"I'm so glad we can help her," Charisse said. She turned around to see Reggie nodding. Henderson hesitated for a second before giving a quick nod. "Samson, it's been a minute; how did you meet the wonderful Lady Amelia Vettion?"

"Dragon attacked my caravan, destroyed everything," Samson paused, and his gaze dropped down for a second. "It was for the best as it freed me to work for the illustrious Lady. She met me on the road."

The four of them moved into the side room. The bookshelves line two of the walls; the other two walls had windows inset in them with a chair next to each. The chairs had pillows positioned on the seat and back. A small table between the two chairs had a pitcher and two cups sitting on a platter.

"It's a few hours before midnight; maybe we get some rest to ensure we don't fail our lady," Reggie said. He went over to one of the chairs and plopped down into it. Charisse nodded in agreement and beckoned Samson to the other free chair. Samson stalled, and his eyes kept darting out the doorway as if he was looking for the Lady. Finally, after a few seconds, he acquiesced and sat in the other chair. Henderson lowered himself on the floor with his back to a bookshelf, giving him a view of both windows and the occupants in the chairs.

Charisse noticed that Henderson's eyes would occasionally dart over to Charisse as she stood, standing near the door to watch for the Lady or Marshal. For a brief second, Henderson looked like he would say something but immediately changed his mind. An idle thought came to Charisse as she worried Henderson was an assassin sent to harm Lady Amelia Vettion. She scrutinized the man's face and body language.

Every move that Henderson made or did was not remotely threatening. His muscles were relaxed, except his jaw and neck seemed tight; Charisse attributed the man fidgeting with worry; he also must be apprehensive about the treatment Lady Amelia has received by the guard in this town. Then, sensing time to plan, Charisse lowered herself to the floor so she could be at eye level with Henderson.

"After we recover the lady's property, how about we locate the guards who didn't listen to her and teach them a lesson in respect?" Charisse said.

She detected a little bit of shock from Henderson as his eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly. Not holding back on showing her glee, Charisse nodded at Henderson. "I'm glad to see you're thinking the same thing."