"Nowhere… left… to run…!" Viviane wheezed. "Hand over my pouch, and I just might consider letting you go without a beating!"
After chasing the pickpocket around the Colosseum several times, Viviane had finally managed to corner the brat in an abandoned cul-de-sac. His days of stealing and terrorising vegetable merchants and overturning carts filled with cabbages were over! She took a menacing step towards him, and the child yelled something in a tongue she couldn't recognise.
"@#$^%@#!"
Viviane was suddenly overcome with an odd yet not unfamiliar sensation, and she stopped dead in her tracks. The pickpocket's aura reeked of deceit, just as it had when he had lifted her pouch from her pocket, but the trickery did not come from his words; he hadn't been lying when he'd spoken, which meant that the falsehood originated from somewhere else…
"&%$@~?" the child said in a mocking tone.
Come to think of it, it was rather strange that she'd managed to catch up with the thief in the first place. He was fleeter of foot than she was, and he undoubtedly knew the city far better than she, a tourist. How likely was it that she could have cornered him in such a fashion?
Viviane whirled around on the spot to leave, but it was too late. Two brutish-looking men with shoulders as broad as wardrobes stepped into the alley and blocked the only way out, brandishing wooden clubs in a most menacing fashion. One of them was slightly taller than the other, while the second had a rather red and purple, veiny nose.
She was trapped!
'You've been fooled,' a woman's voice echoed in Viviane's ears. 'You can thank your lucky stars these fools aren't magic, or being clapped in irons and sold into slavery might have been the least of your worries.'
"This sort of feedback isn't helping," Viviane hissed through her teeth. "If you've got any actually helpful advice, now would be the time to share it, Ondine!"
The Shadow of her previous incarnation shimmered into being next to the would-be kidnappers, and she examined their wooden clubs closely as they approached Viviane, smacking the weapons menacingly against their palms.
'You really must learn to pay closer attention to your surroundings,' Ondine sighed. 'I counted seven knots in the surrounding ley lines. This city is incredibly rich in telluric energy, in case you haven't noticed. Even though we're not home, we're at least back on firm ground, so Ogham magic should work… as for their weapons, they smell like oak to me… surely I need not go on?'
Seeing that Viviane had frozen in place, the taller of the two kidnappers lowered his club and reached out to grab her forearm, but she sidestepped out of the way, causing him to stumble over a protruding stone in the pavement. His companion guffawed at his clumsiness, and irritated at the fact that he had been made a fool of, he swung his weapon around, aiming for Viviane's ribs.
"Duir!" Viviane exclaimed, invoking the oak-tree rune.
Viviane channelled her magic through the oaken club as it fell upon her, using the very weapon wielded against her as a conduit to amplify Duir's power to protect against physical blows. The club splintered, causing its wielder to yelp in pain as the shock travelled back to his hand.
He was now holding on to little more than a wooden stump.
"How'd you like that?" Viviane called. "Now go away, or I'll… er… use more magic on you!"
A look of greed appeared on the two kidnappers' faces when they realised that a little Witch had fallen into their trap.
Oleander's wand shop was something of a tourist trap, making it a prime spot for pickpocketing. Dreaming of learning magic and becoming all-powerful Wizards, people from all over the continent would gather in Rome, often selling all their possessions just to raise enough money to make the trip… thus making kidnapping a rather lucrative side venture. After all, nobody would come looking for these tourists if they went missing in a faraway land…
The brigands threw away their clubs; they couldn't risk damaging the merchandise… and in doing so, they also discarded the wood catalysts Viviane would have used to defend herself. She nervously dug into her pockets, but she only had some willow tree bark she had picked up earlier, on the way to Rome from the port.
The willow-tree rune Saille was useful for healing, not so much for combat.
"Now, what?" Viviane said nervously, taking a step back.
She glanced over her shoulder; her pouch, which held the wood essences she usually made use of to practise Ogham rune magic, was still in the pickpocket's hands. If only she could snatch it back from him… but she did not dare turn her back to the two adults before her.
'Look at the man on the left's nose,' Ondine said. 'This one's slightly tipsy, I'd wager.'
"Muin!" shouted Viviane, pointing at the red-nosed man… but nothing happened.
Muin was the rune of the blackberry bramble, the rune of stupor, drunken revelry and violent outbursts that comes from imbibing too much wine. Back in the British Isles and the north in general, wine, mead and beer were equally popular as staple drinks for those seeking to get inebriated, but in Rome, wine made from the grapes grown in their sprawling vineyards was far more popular…
'The connection was tenuous at best,' Ondine sighed. 'You're too far from home to use Ogham magic without carving runes, or without a catalyst in hand, or without a Greater Fairy's body. I'll ask around amongst the other Shadows and see if any of them have experience with human magic, but I rather doubt it.'
"Eep!" Viviane squealed as the two men surged forwards.
Ogham magic could prove incredibly powerful if the caster was sitting on a place of power, but far from Britain's native ley lines and without even the correct type of wood at hand to channel its power, Viviane was better off throwing punches… which was exactly what she was now attempting, quite unsuccessfully.
"H-hurry!" Viviane gasped.
In a flash, the kidnapper with the veiny, red nose had her in a chokehold. Slowly but surely, Viviane's vision began to dim, and her consciousness began to fade as the man constricted her throat with his arm… and then her eyes rolled back in her head, and she fainted.
…
"We've struck it rich this time!" the red-nosed man spoke excitedly in his harsh-sounding tongue. "That was actual magic! We've caught ourselves an untrained spellcaster! Think of how much wine we'll be able to buy by selling her at Julius's place!"
The tall kidnapper produced a jute bag, and with the red-nosed man's help, he stuffed Viviane's unconscious body inside before slinging it over his shoulder. It wouldn't do if the patrols spotted them carrying comatose girls out in the open, after all.
"I was thinking we could hand her over to Theudoricus," he replied, grunting with effort. "The boss always wanted a pet Magician. A real one, you know? All the best street gangs in Rome have at least one Wizard in their employ."
"Oi, what about my cut?" the small pickpocket chirped angrily, stomping up to them. "I'm the one who found her in the first place!"
The two kidnappers looked at each other before bursting out laughing. Seeing the small bag clutched in their young helper's hands, the red-nosed man leaned over and tried to snatch it from him, but the pickpocket agilely leapt out of the way.
"Ha!" snorted the tall man. "Not so easy to grab children, is it?"
He rummaged around in his pocket and produced a single coin, which he flipped into his palm, before throwing it at the child's feet.
"One sesterce, and you're lucky to get that much," he growled. "Now, hand over the girl's bag and don't even think about running off with it. I know where you live, street rat."
Reluctance written across his face, the very young pickpocket tossed him Viviane's pouch, then snatched the coin from the ground and bolted from the alley without so much as looking back.
They'd regret that, he told himself, seething. He knew the girl had a companion her age, and if she was a Witch, then odds were he was a Wizard! There were other people in the gang who would be very happy to serve the gang boss a magical teenager on a platter, and who would be more than willing to adequately compensate him for his efforts…