Threads of Silver: Chapter 10 ©

Nearly six weeks had passed since the king’s announcement and Gitano found himself feeling discouraged. His plan had seemed so simple at first. He had decided to present his buyers with a small gift of silver thread under the guise of thanking them for their patronage, feeling certain that if one of his customers knew the magic weaver they would not be able to resist passing on such a unique gift. Gitano knew the common weakness among all his patrons was a love of storytelling and juicy gossip so he planned to use this to his advantage by inquiring about the gift upon his return. In doing so he felt quite sure that information about the weaver would be revealed. However, so far his plan had gotten him nowhere. All the shop owners he had visited so far kept the thread for themselves and used it on the most ridiculous projects; such as embroidery on their handkerchiefs or trimming on their Sunday hats. One shop owner had even used the silver thread to hang wind chimes off the eves of his roof which made Gitano just shake his head in despair and regret. You see Gitano was a man who loved only a two things in life; his horse, Tango, whom he considered to be his best friend and his wealth. It pained him to give away the spools of fine silver thread in the first place and then to see them so basely used with no reward of information was almost more than the poor merchant could bear. However, as he trudged up the road to Danshire, the last village on his route, he tried to dismiss the feeling that all was lost and focus on finding out what he could. When he finally reached the door of the first thread shop, he straightened himself to his full height, smoothed his thick black beard and swept into the room with a charming smile on his face. The little brass bell above the door chimed and out came an elderly woman with hair as silver as the moon on a cold night. “Grenada, my dear!” said Gitano with a low bow “How are you on this fine afternoon?” “Right as rain, right as rain!” said the old woman warmly. “Have ye gots anything good for me this time?” “Always!” replied Gitano as he set his basket of threads on the worn wooden counter top. Grenada shuffled her way over to the basket and began to slowly browse through the spools of thread; picking up one and putting it back then picking up another and setting it aside for further thought. As she was occupied with the thread Gitano began to ask his questions. “I don’t see that you’ve used that special gift I gave you when I was here last… did you not like it?” “Oh of course I did! But with somethin’ so fine, I thought I would give it to someone who could put it to better use than I. Although it didn’t quite turn out like I thought… but then I shouldn’t say nothin’” Gitano’s eyes began to sparkle with the hope that maybe he’d found what he was looking for. “Oh Grenada!” he said in a pathetic tone “Please don’t tell me you’ve given it to one of those gypsy women! They probably sold it for ten times what it was worth to some poor soul who doesn’t know any better!” “Oh come now! I would never do nothin’ so senseless! I gave it to a dear friend of mine who works for a real special weaver, but turned out she couldn’t use it because its power was too great and – well, never mind… I didn’t give it to no gypsy woman anyways!” Gitano smiled. His plan was finally working but now he had to figure out how to obtain the friend’s name. “Well, I am glad to hear that you gave it to a friend of great skill” he said pretending not to hear about the thread having power “Is there somewhere I could see a sample of her work? I am always looking for new fabrics to sell in the other villages.” “Of course, dearie! Old Macintosh in the market sells her fabrics… I think Jinx is bringing him a new delivery of blankets to sell tomorrow.” “Who’s Jinx?” asked Gitano. “Oh that’s the friend who works for the weaver.” said Grenada absentmindedly. “Now, I will take these blue threads and these gold ones but I want them half price!” Gitano had gotten all that he came for and quickly agreed to Grenada’s terms. As he mounted his horse to go he knew exactly what he must do and began to head in the direction of the market place.

(All content on this page is copyrighted by Angela R. Sexton 2013, All Rights Reserved)


Threads of Silver: Chapter 9 ©

The morning sunlight danced on the river that wound itself beneath Adala’s window as she sat drinking her steaming cup of tea. It had been a month since she had used the silver thread, but the memory of that night in the attic still troubled her mind. She had told Jinx not to breathe a word to anyone about the silver garment, but somehow she felt that the secret was going to come back to haunt her. Her thoughts trembled at the idea of unlimited knowledge in in the hands of the wrong person; she knew very well that knowledge without wisdom to guide it is nothing more than vain ambition and vain ambition is the birthplace of much evil. Adala was so lost in her contemplation that she didn’t even hear Jinx come in through the door behind her. “I gots ye threads and bought potatoes at the market just like ye asked!” he announced as he hung his coat on the peg next to the door. Adala jumped at the sound of his voice and nearly dropped her teacup on the ground. “I’m sorry my dear, I didn’t mean to give you a fright… I thought you heard me open the door.” Jinx said apologetically. “It’s alright, I was just lost in thought that’s all. Do sit down and have your tea before you go out to work in the garden.” replied Adala kindly. Jinx sat down in his usual spot on the oak bench and Adala came and sat beside him. Feeling like she could use some conversation to divert her mind, she put her arm in his and began to ask about his trip to town. “Town was too crowded as usual…” he said in his gruff sort of way “…but I did see Miss Grenada and she sends you her best regards. She asked me how you liked the silver thread she sent you and I told her that it was mighty good of her to give you such a gift but that it had magic too great to use… She said that was a shame but –“ “Oh Jinx!!” Adala cried interrupting his sentence “How could you say anything about the thread to her? Don’t you remember we agreed not breathe a word to ANYONE!” Now Adala rarely burst out at the old dwarf and her manner was so distressed that Jinx didn’t quite know what to say. “Please tell me you didn’t say any more?” she begged. “Well I – Well I – I don’t know. Honest, Adala I didn’t mean no harm! I just thought since she was the one who gave you such a nice gift, I ought to tell her what happened to it. I told her it had too great of magic to use and she said that was a shame but she always knew you to do the right thing and that was good enough for her. I don’t think there’s any harm in that?” Adala began to feel a little bad for her outburst, but the thought of anyone else knowing about the silver thread chilled her to the bone. She put her head in her hands and let out a little moan of despair. Poor Jinx put a fatherly hand on her shoulder and said “I’m sorry my dear, truly I am. Please don’t fret so! I hardly think anything will come of it… no one outside of this village even knows you exist much less where to find you and Grenada would never do you any harm… Please forgive me!” Adala slowly raised her head, wrapped her arms around the old dwarf’s neck and whispered softly “Of course I forgive you. I just hope you are right my dear, Jinx. I hope you are right.”

(All content on this page is copyrighted by Angela R. Sexton 2013, All Rights Reserved)