To most I was just a weathered old gypsy woman, but as I gazed into the mirror, the two beady black eyes peering back had the highest approbation. I had been traveling the gravel roads for twelve years and never a moment of compunction. My favorite deck of tarot clutched in my hands as I move closer to the window. I could hear Claude call a halt to the horses.

As the wagon I considered to be antediluvian came to a stop, I pulled back the purple velvet curtains that lined the small wooden framed window. I peered out at the townsfolk gathering round; they stared with indignation. It was the Christians that hated us most; they felt we were evil doers and responsible for the diseases in their towns. But it was the Christians that kept food on the table, for they would come to see me when the crowds had died down and the twilight skies would keep their reputation intact.

I hoped this would be the town to bring me someone anomalous. I was looking for the one; the one who possessed great erudition.