"Well...that didn't go as well as I had hoped.", Col. Schrieber commented to the Markgraaf as they rode their horses back to their escort on their way out of the gypsy camp.
Negotiations had been making some small progress, when the name Baron Von Kerns came up in the conversation. The gypsy chief made it very clear that what ever relationship there had been (if any could be proved) it was business only and no sense of obligation to any of his relatives could be implied. It would also be best if they left immediately.
"Hope springs eternal, Colonel.", the Markgraaf replied. "Tell your men when we get back to camp that they may light their campfires. Tell the sentries to be particularly alert, for I am confident that we will have some visitors later tonight. You see, my dear Colonel, these were only the formal, opening gambits of the delicate dance of negotiating. The second stage will begin when we have multiple people come through our lines willing to talk if we cross their palms with silver. The difficulty will be deciding which of their tales will we believe and pay for, and which ones are creative attempts just to gain our coin."
"I shall see to it, milord", Col. Schreiber nodded, "I hope you're right."
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Never forget some Gypsy women have a well-established, and perhaps with good reason, repute of being witches (and seers for the gullible). And some may have a special empathy, at times verging on telepathy, with *one* animal species: wolves or bats or owls or crows...
Hi Jean-Louis!
I keep humming "Love Potion No. 9", and found it very hard to resist having a "Madame Roue" (You know the gypsy with the gold capped tooth.) make a cameo appearance.
Thanks for your input. I really having a good time turning my "inner author" loose.
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