The Play Rite. Chapter three

Josefine heard a voice in the hall, it was Viviane’s voice, but what was she saying? Josefine listened more closely. The room seemed to grow quieter so she could hear. There was a man, too. He was speaking,’ Is the girl here now?’ They seemed to be walking toward her. Viviane spoke ,’She is, but she was asleep when I left.’ ‘How do you that she hasn’t woken up?’ ‘The girl, she’s as lazy as her father, sleep all day if she could.’ It was true, but she’d never heard Viviane mention her father before. The man spoke again, ’Do not the wise men know? If so, then she could not possibly take part in the rite. She has no right. Perhaps it was a mistake.’  She could hear Viviane opening a cupboard and taking out a glass jar. Probably to make tea, ‘Do you really think that the wise men could make a mistake like this? No. they had to know what they were doing.’ Big boots shook the small room. The floor creaked as the man leaned in to whisper, ‘Viviane. What if it wasn’t a mistake? What if it were written?’ ‘Lance, are you saying what I think you are? That this is one of the great fates? Though you yourself are a child of the legends, you must know that not even the greatest of men have seen or been seen in the great fates. No one is sure that they even exist anymore… Lance?’ there was a thump. As if someone had fallen down, onto the wooden floor. ‘Lance, please. Oh, please, lance. Please…’ Her words turned into a whisper, ‘Please.’ For once Viviane sounded afraid. There were times when she had been worried for a villager’s life or even slightly unhappy about the death of a villager, but this was real emotion. What had happened, and, more importantly, who was this man? She had to make sure everything was okay.