“Please hurry, Yana,” she whispered, as the rain fell.
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The Gypsy Queen- CHAPTER 8- “Tatu”
Smoldering ash. Yana and Bastion crossed over a strange mix of smoldering ash and scorched grass that seemed like it was still fighting for its life, though it had already lost. Most of the smoke had cleared since the forest fire, the burnt remains left to heave its last desolate gasp.
The charred forest felt somber, as though it were quietly grieving, Yana thought. The moonlight cast a glow that should have been friendly, but seemed something more sinister instead. It only illuminated the loss of life.
The creaks of the wagons seemed louder as they traveled, in the absence of other noise. Bastion had the reins of the dark green wagon, as they pushed through. He sought to get through the ashen forest to greener grounds before they made camp.
Nico rode up on his horse. He had ridden alongside the caravan in gypsy garb, to scout and watch the backside of the group.
“Captain,” he said, “someone is following us.” Bastion was not surprised, but did not want their plan to be undone.
“How many?” Bastion asked.
“Just one horse,” he replied, “but there looks to be two people on it.”
“You sure they are following us?” Bastion asked.
“Yes. Not long after we left Jedikai, we spotted them. We keep losing track though- they are very good at hiding.” Yana smiled at that.
“Bring them to me,” Bastion ordered. “They’ll have an accounting. We’ll be making camp down by that lake,” he said, pointing. “Right past the fire line.”
“Yes sir,” Nico said, and departed. Yana could not help the smile on her face.
“They’re gypsies,” she told Bastion.
“You know who is following us?” Bastion asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, who??” he asked.
“Gypsies,” she said with a grin.
Bastion shook his head. He was pleased to have Yana with him on this quest, and tried only to think about her with him now, and the battle ahead. He did not like thinking about her departure that would surely follow.
They made their way to the spot Bastion had chosen for a camp, and waited for Nico to catch up. True to form, they had just unbuckled the horses from the rigs and got the fire going when Nico emerged from the trees with a horse in tow, bearing two riders with faces covered in ash. Yana saw them come in, and walked towards them with scorn on her face.
“You are not supposed to be here,” she said. She turned to Bastion. “Are not spies supposed to be enemies of the kingdom, to be punished with death?” Bastion stepped up to the horse, next to Yana.
“That’s right,” he said. “High treason from spies and enemies brings about a first-class hanging! There’s no pardon for treason.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing we are only gypsies!” Luba said, hopping down off the horse. Dimmie followed and climbed down as well. Yana hugged them both.
“You should not be here,” Yana said. “This is no place for you.”
“We had to come help,” Luba said.
“We want to fight for our people,” Dimmie said.
“Gypsy warriors,” Nico said. “I did not know there was such a thing.”
Bastion knew the gypsies well enough to know better.
“Take a look then,” he said. “These brave souls are as much warriors as any, when it comes to those they love.”
“We are not just here for our people,” Luba said. “We are here for all the people.”
“Then you are warriors indeed,” Nico said.
They gathered around the fire for warmth- the famed and feared black riders, the gypsy children, and Yana, amazed at the sight of it.
“Dimmie and Luba, you have done a foolish thing, to track the black riders into the Lower Reach,” Bastion said.
“Yes sir,” Luba answered.
“The last spy to track the black riders at night, well... she ended up serving with them,” he said, smiling at Yana.
“Aye, one of the most foolish moments of my life, and that’s saying something,” Yana agreed.
“So,” Bastion continued, “if you want to ride with us, you’ll have to set yourself under my command as well,” Bastion said. Luba and Dimmie both looked over at Yana, concerned.
“You... you’re going to let them ride with us?” Yana asked.
“If they are willing,” said Bastion.
“I’m willing, sir, Captain, sir,” Dimmie said. Luba nodded agreement.
“You must accept my authority until I release you,” Bastion said, “and you must understand that doing so could cost you your life.” Luba looked over at Yana.
“We have to do it,” she said, “We made up our minds to help.”
“I accept, Captain,” said Dimmie.
“I accept, Captain,” said Luba.
“Then I shall be responsible for you, and will make the best use of your skills that I can.”
“Thank you Captain,” Luba said. “What will be our first task?”
“Your first task will be to find Emilee,” Bastion replied.
The caravan arose before first light, and made their way south, staying under cover of trees and much as they could. Nico hid inside the second wagon, and allowed the two gypsy children to do the scouting, on his horse and the one they arrived on. Yana assured Bastion that they were fine scouts, too, capable as any. They did not expect any other encounters on their way to the Lower Reach, and Bastion figured it would help them look more authentic, especially as they approached the castle.
The caravan arrived at the outskirts of the city after dark set in, and rambled around the edge of the forest looking for a good place to camp. Bastion chose a spot, and they began setting up camp to look like a genuine gypsy pitch. Luba and Dimmie came in to help, and to report.
“We found three pixie trees, and one cave, though we could not tell how deep it was,” Luba said. The rest of the black riders convened with them.
“We must be prepared and stand watch tonight,” said Bastion. “We are a gypsy caravan in the heart of a land that steals gypsies and villagers. We must be vigilant. Nico, you and Nathaniel will take first watch. Yana, I want you to take your horse and go with our gypsy warriors to search for Emilee. Everyone stay armed, and use your Romany blankets. We’ll want the element of surprise, if we are attacked. If we are not, we’ll go into the village around the castle tomorrow and scout out a way to deal with these cretins,” he said. “I’m going to see what I can tell of the castle.”
Yana unhitched her horse with excitement, and prepared to ride. She was afraid- for herself, for Emilee, for Luba and Dimmie... but she was confident. Another effect Bastion seemed to have on her, she realized. Yana was always confident, but had never fought for her life, either. If she was to do it, setting her life in Bastion’s hands seemed like her best hope.
“Take me to the pixie trees you found,” she directed the children. They took her to the first one, and Yana climbed up into it. There was no trace of Emilee, or anyone at all.
“The cave we found is near this one,” Luba said.
“Take me there,” Yana replied. They arrived at the cave, tucked into the bottom of a drop-off. Yana walked up to the entrance and peered in. The dark, yawning mouth of the cave offered only mystery and fear.
“Emilee!” Yana called into the dark abyss. She waited. Nothing. “Emilee!” she called again. No answer.
Yana’s dagger seemed to jump into her hand at the sound she heard above the ridge. She didn’t know what she heard, but the dagger in her hand made her feel better, as they departed the cave. They remounted their horses and went up around the drop-off carefully and slowly. Yana hoped that their horses would be fast enough to get them to safety if the noise was something bad.
They came up around the slope, and headed for where Yana thought she heard the sound. She recoiled a bit as she found a group of rats feasting on so
me kind of dead animal. Several dead animals, she realized. It was hard to tell in the dark.
“There,” Dimmie said. “There’s another pixie tree.”
Yana motioned for them to follow, and headed for it.
“Oi,” Yana called out softly.
“Oi,” a voice called back.
Yana’s heart soared. “Oi gitana!” she called.
Emilee’s head popped out from the landing in the tree. The rest of her followed, Emilee’s strong form popping up entirely and tumbling perfectly down a branch to her friends.
“I knew you’d come!” she said.
The three riders gathered around her joyfully.
“What are you vagabonds doing here?” Emilee asked of Luba and Dimmie.
“We had to come help,” Dimmie said with exuberance, “but we aren’t just vagabonds anymore,” he added. “We’re black riders!”
“Black riders?! Black riders?” Emilee broke out with a laugh. Yana knew it sounded funny.
“It’s true,” she said.
“Well,” Emilee said, “I hope you aren’t the only black riders around. I have been down into the city. We got trouble.”
“We brought all the black riders from Jedikai,” Yana said. “We are going to try to find a way to get into the castle and stop the slave traders.”
Emilee frowned. “Getting into the castle is not going to be enough,” she said. “The slaves are sailing to Kaffa.”
“When do they leave?” Bastion demanded, back at their camp.
“At first light, I think,” said Emilee.
“Then we cannot wait. We’ll have to move now.” he said. “I don’t know how to get into the castle. I looked around it but I cannot see much. They are keeping it dark on purpose.”
“Yes,” Emilee said, “and I know why!” All attention turned to her, so she continued. “Did you see those buildings just behind the castle, off the east side?”
“Yes,” said Bastion. “Four small buildings.”
Emilee nodded. “The one closest to the wall,” she said, “has an opening that leads into the castle.”
“How could you possibly know that?” asked Yana.
“I watched it. I watched it all day for two days. I knew this is where you would come. This is where they took the slaves, so I knew you would track them here.”
“Good, good,” Bastion said. “But how do you know there’s an entrance?”
“I snuck up close. Really close. I could hear talking. It’s not a very big building but people come and go from it. People come out that never went in.” Emilee took a big drink of water as she chomped on a biscuit.
“We’ll have to move in tonight. We can’t wait a day and lose all the captives,” said Bastion. “We’ll wait until just an hour before dawn. We need as much surprise as possible to get the slaves before they board.” Bastion looked at his little gypsy warriors. Three brave gypsy children, and Yana, the young woman they all looked up to.
Yana gasped. “Emilee! What happened to your arm?”
The cloth had fallen away from her arm as she scarfed down the first actual meal she had eaten in a while.
“Wolves.”
“You were attacked by wolves?” Luba asked, wide-eyed. “There’s wolves around? I hate wolves!”
“I don’t hear any wolves,” said Dimmie.
“That’s because I killed them all,” Emilee said proudly.
Yana stopped with tending to Emilee’s wound. “What do you mean you killed them all? How many wolves?”
“Six.”
“You killed six wolves by yourself?”
“You saw them up on the ridge. I used the pixie tree and I sharpened my staff and I beat them!” she said. “I beat them by doing the things you taught me, Yana.”
Yana hugged her precious friend. “I tried to hurry to come help you,” she said.
“You saved me before you even got here!” Emilee said with joy. Yana kissed her little friend on the arm by her wound as she wrapped it in a new dressing.
“Ruv Mulo,” Yana said. “Wolf death. Did you do the feast ritual?”
“Yes. Only one problem,” Emilee said. “There’s hardly no food ‘round here but ginger root. And I hate ginger root as much as Luba hates wolves!”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Brraaaaaap!” the man belched. Scratching his belly, he took another swig from the bottle he was nursing. He buried more food into his mouth as he sat alone at the table by candlelight.
Tap, tap, tap-tap. Someone was at the door. He had no idea what time it was, except that his candle had burnt down a good ways, and he was tired. He shuffled to the door, and tapped it in reply.
Tap, tap, tap-tap. The knock came again. Good enough, he decided. That was the code they were using that day. He opened the door just a crack and peered out. A young beggar girl was at the door. He snapped out of his haze. This wasn’t right. The girl was not the problem, though unlikely. The problem was that it could not have been her who knocked, he thought, and-
-figures in black shadow burst in the door, knocking him down.
“Hey” he tried to protest. It was the last word he spoke, as a knife sliced his throat. Pinned down, his life faded to the sight of the dirt floor pressing into his face, and dark figures swirling into the room like demons.
Bastion and Yana pulled their hoods back and looked for the entrance. They scanned the floor with candlelight, sweeping their hands through the dirt, and quietly overturning furniture. “It’s not here,” Bastion said. “The floor is solid.”
Yana looked around with dread. If Emilee’s information was bad, all was lost. Yana kept looking. She trusted Emilee’s competence. Since the floors were solid, she started feeling along the walls. The wall closest to the castle revealed a false wall, just above the ground. She popped it open and looked at Bastion, sharing silent victory in finding it, and being right.
They slipped into the passage, Bastion and Yana in the lead. It opened into a tunnel tall enough to stand in. They pushed forward and inward. Yana counted her steps to gauge the point where they crossed under the castle. The passage split; they would have to either go right or left.
The team split up as planned, Bastion and Yana headed right, the others, left. The place was pitch black, and no matter how much Yana tried to adjust her eyes, she could see nothing. They were still undetected.
Yana pulled at Bastion’s black garb, and pulled him to her. No one to see, in the midst of pure danger, she kissed him again, just as she had in the Great Hall. Bastion kissed her back, trying to take in the sensation of her touch, her form, her scent.
Yana leaned very close into Bastion’s ear, standing on the tips of her toes to reach. “Ya tebya lublu,” she whispered.
Bastion had no idea what it meant, but now was not the time for questions. Yana pulled away, feeling the heat between them, still keen on the mission. As she looked at him, she could see his aura start to glow. It was exceptional- Yana had never seen an aura in the dark before. It was red and gold, just like it had been the first time she touched him. Yana was fascinated. Then, something was wrong. Light flickered.
She pulled out her dagger, and lunged towards Bastion. She pushed him aside and launched herself behind him, driving her blade into a man that had just turned the corner with a candle in his hand, and a bottle in the other.
He grunted and collapsed, a jingle of metal accompanying his fall. She watched him fall, clutching her dagger in hand. She had never done something like that before. No time to think, she fumbled in the dark for the keys she had heard in his possession. The fall had snuffed out the candle; she just wished it had snuffed out the terrible smell of the passageways.
She found the keys and deftly removed them from the fallen guard.
“Let’s find another candle,” she whispered to Bastion. The pitch dark was starting to get to her, and she was no longer enjoying stealth. She wanted to find the captives and find her way OUT. Being confined was making her anxious.
They mo
ved forward, and Bastion spotted another guard up ahead, with his back partially turned to them. His candlelight could be an advantage, Bastion thought, because it would impair his eyesight trying to peer into the dark. Bastion didn’t intend to give him anything to look at. The guard looked like he was trying to fight off sleep while still standing. He never had a chance to fight off Bastion. Bastion gripped the front of the guard’s neck in the same motion of driving his blade into his back. He eased him to the floor as quietly as he could.
They turned another left, candle in hand, and found what they were looking for. Barred doors. Iron locks. The other black riders in their group stood in front of them, looking grim.
“We cleared the tunnels. We are alone down here now. Well... nearly alone,” Nathaniel said.
Cowering in one of the cells, was a lone gypsy girl with bruises on her face. Yana felt immense grief at the sight. This horrible place was no place for a gypsy, no place for anyone. She fumbled for the keys, struggling to see between the sparse candlelight and the tears forming in her eyes. Bastion took the keys from her gently, and unlocked the iron door.
The girl cowered in the corner of the cell. Yana entered carefully, and sat down next to her. “What’s your name,” she asked. The girl said nothing. “Please,” she said, reaching out her hand to her, and touching her arm, “Please gitana, what is your name?” The girl looked up.
She looked at Yana with a sudden intensity. Yana spoke again. “My name is Yana.” She looked a little closer, in the near dark. “I am Yana,” she said again. “You know me,” she added.
“Yana?” the girl said. “Yana?”
“Yes, it’s Yana,” she confirmed, brushing back the girl’s hair a little. “And you are Jaelle.”
The girl nodded. “Yes. My name is Jaelle!” she said, as though she was just now remembering it. Nathaniel turned to Bastion.
“She’s the only one here. All the others are missing. There are no other slaves here.”
The Gypsy Queen Page 9
