He chuckled to himself.  This was going to be so easy.  There it was.  Nobody would notice; he was invisible to the rest of the world.  He could come and go as pleased.  He smiled.

            He loved the thought that he could get away with anything.

            Even though he knew nobody who lived in Braemar, even though if he was caught he would never be trusted again—not like he was now anyway—and even though he was the son of…well, at least he had a father.  Worse things could happen.  Anyway, this was how life was.

            He shook his head violently, tossing the thought aside in his mind.  How could he think like this?  He was almost a man.  Not to mention, if he didn’t have him as a father, he probably wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him.

            He pulled the hood over his head and crossed the street silently, heading toward the alley next to the tavern.  When he reached the alley he peeked behind the corner of the building to see if anyone was watching.  Never hurts to make sure. 

            Just two tall men about to enter the building.  Young men perhaps; not that far from his own age.  He couldn’t see them that well in the dark, but it didn’t matter; they didn’t see him. 

He looked up and saw his destination: a window two-stories high.  Careful not to make a sound, he scaled the wall, using the nooks and crannies in the wall for footholds until he reached the window.  Then he opened the shutters and went in, feet first. 

He was in some kind of hall with doors on both sides.  Door four… look for door four… And there it was. Not far from the stairs. 

He jiggled the handle of the door.  It didn’t budge.  He swore silently.  Then he took a large splinter and a note—neatly folded one at that—and pinned it on the door.

Idiot, he thought of the room’s occupant as he headed back toward the window. 

*          *          *

Dimitri pushed open the door to Beebo’s Tavern and he and his brother inhaled the familiar smell of the place.  “Ah,” said Damon, “Home away from home.” 

            They walked in and were greeted by Beebo.  “Damon and Dimitri!  What a pleasure to have you two joining us this evening!  Any specific reason for coming today? Or was it just for a drink?”

“Nope,” Dimitri said.  “We’re celebrating.”

“And what is the celebration for?”

Damon ran his hand through his hair and grinned.  “The end of the week,” he said.

Beebo chuckled and nodded.  “Choose any table and I will come and bring you each a drink.”   

The twins chose a table next to the fire pit in the center of the room, sat across from each other, and waited.  There weren’t many people in the small and quiet room.  “Hey, isn’t that the creep that Jubilee was talking about last night?” Dimitri asked Damon, gesturing toward the far corner of the room.

The man was sitting at a table with his hands folded and he wore black clothes.  His long, greasy, blonde hair seemed glued to his head.  His beady eyes surveyed the room slowly and stopped when they ran across Damon and Dimitri. 

The twins quickly shifted their gaze and didn’t say another word until Jubilee walked over with their drinks.  She smiled at them.  “How have you two been?” she asked them as she handed them the beverages.

“Good.  Jubilee, what’s that man’s problem?” Damon asked. 

            “Ah, you want to know about Gauthier,” she said and sat down between them.  “Well, I told you about him yesterday.  What do more do you want to know?”

            “Uh, so this is all the man does; sitting around and staring at people all day?” said Dimitri.

            “That’s right.”

            They were silent for a moment until Dimitri spoke again: “I don’t like it.”

            Jubilee sighed, “Neither do I.  But it doesn’t matter; he’ll be gone before you know it.”  She smiled, tucked her blonde hair behind her ears, and stood.  “Well, I hate to leave you two, but I have to get back to work.  You want a small keg to take with you?”

            They both grinned and said, “Why not?”

            Jubilee laughed and said, “Okay; it will be at the bar when you are ready to go.”

            Damon and Dimitri enjoyed their drinks quietly—chatting off and on—until they heard a chilling voice say, “Having a happy chat about me were we?”

            Damon spewed his drink all over his brother in surprise and Dimitri gagged on his own drink.  Dimitri, attempting to wipe all the beer off of his face, said between coughs to the figure standing over the table, “No—no, we—we weren’t.”  Damon was still in a fit of coughing.  Gauthier smiled, revealing crooked, yellow, teeth. 

Dimitri gagged again.

            Gauthier sat down where Jubilee sat last and folded his hands.  “I would like to ask you two a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

            Damon managed to speak again after he recovered from coughing.  “Why?” he asked.

            “I am getting to know the area for my master.  He wants a plot of land.  But before he purchases anything, he wants to make sure what he is getting is worth something.”  The twins looked at each other then looked back at Gauthier.  “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” he asked them.

            “No,” Dimitri lied, “Go ahead.”

            Gauthier smiled his grotesque smile and spoke again. “What do you do for a living?”

            “We farm,” they said.

            “What do you farm?”

            “Crops,” Dimitri said.  Damon snorted but caught himself when Gauthier glared at him.

            “How much do you make each year?” asked Gauthier.

            “It depends.”

            “On what?”

            They were interrupted when Beebo advanced toward the table.  “Gauthier sir…”

            “What?” Gauthier snapped.

            “Well, John found—” 

            “Who’s John?”

            “He helps out here sometimes.”

            “Well?  What did he find?  Does it concern me in any way whatsoever?”

            “Oh—yes; he found a note at the foot of your door… it looks like it fell from there.  John gave it to me to give to you because it had your name on the front.”  Beebo held out a folded piece of paper.

            Gauthier snatched the paper from him and glared at it for a second.  Then he turned his beady gaze on Beebo.  “Where is he? Why didn’t he give it to me himself? Was he too lazy?”

            “Not at all! He had to go home to catch up on some chores.”

            Gauthier frowned and looked at the folded parchment again.  Then he stood, walked close to the fire pit, and unfolded the paper.  Beebo shrugged and walked off.

            When he was done reading it, Gauthier folded the paper once, tore it twice, then tossed it in the hearth.  When he sat down again, he smiled and folded his hands.  “Now where were we?” he asked.

            “Damon, don’t you think it is getting rather late?” Dimitri asked his brother.

            “Nah, not really,” Damon said, busy carving his initials in the wooden table with his fingernail.

            “Millie won’t be happy if we don’t leave soon.”

            “We’ve left late other times; what’s your problem?”

            “We have to go… we have a big day tomorrow.  Besides, we shouldn’t keep Jubilee waiting with our keg.”

            “Okay then,” Damon said, standing up.

            Gauthier frowned and growled, “I guess that means that our little chat is over.”

            Dimitri grinned. “I guess so.”

            Gauthier stood as well; he looked shorter and less threatening than when he was sitting.  “It was pleasant talking to you.  I hope we can talk longer next time”, he said.  Then with a swish of his cloak, he exited the room.

            Damon whistled.  “What a creep.”

to be continued...

I love those words :)

J. K. Rowling