The Gypsy Queen

by Samuel Solomon

  Yana’s feet streaked across the blurry deck of the ship. Thump-thump-thump, as she tore across it with torches in her hands, lighting everything on fire, tears and anguish streaking down her face. Reaching the bow of the ship, she turned and ran back, through her own fire, letting herself burn in it.

  She reached the back end of the ship, and looked back at it as she burned. Bastion was there, at the bow, at the very front, standing on the tip, unconsumed by the fire. She drew in a deep breath, horrified, and took one last look- and then turned and leapt into the Black Sea. Deeper, deeper, plunging into the terrifying depths, somehow still burning, no matter how far down...

  Gasping, Yana sat straight up in the bed of the captain’s quarters. Something was wrong. She was horrified at the dream she just had, but she could not even dwell on it a moment. The ship was rocking hard. Items were strewn about the cabin, the chaos of it adding to the chaos in her head.

  She struggled out of the bed, and went to get her clothes on. Trying to get dressed, she went to put one leg into her kishti and tumbled over as the ship swung hard the other way. She scrambled to grasp her clothes and put them on, not bothering to try to get to her feet. Finally she got to her knees, and pulled the sturdy black cloak over her head. She knew she would need it.

  Yana burst out of the quarters and into a storm front. Rain was pelting everything. The men were running and shouting, battling the sails, the ship, and the sea. Yana looked out just as a massive wave was crashing down on the entire right side of the ship. It slammed Yana backward and to the floor of the ship, drenching her. She clung to the port-side rail, letting it wash by.

  She climbed up to the helm, where Bastion was doing battle with the captain’s wheel, pulling the knobs down hard to make the turns he needed. Another wave pummeled the ship, as Bastion fought to turn in towards it. Water washed over the ship again. Yana looked out into the sea. She could see the waves coming, though the dark sky and huge raindrops had made it very hard to see.

  “It came in so fast,” Bastion shouted. “There was no way to avoid it!”

  Yana was enthralled with the scope of the storm. The sheer power of it excited her, as frightening as it was. Bastion wheeled around again hard. The ship slammed head on into the next oncoming wave, jolting the ship hard as though it had just struck rocks, and shoving the nose of the ship up into the sky, letting it crash back down into the sea as it passed.

  “These waves,” Bastion shouted, “I have to get on top of them! If one of those hits us sideways, we could go under!” He was holding the wheel, trying to force the ship to point where he wanted it.

  “What can I do to help?” Yana shouted back. She looked around. The sails had been taken down, only the rudder under Bastion’s control could do anything for them. The ship creaked and groaned under the strain, as they crashed into another wave.

  “Get down below!” Bastion yelled.

  Yana looked around, and thought about being below deck. “No way!” she replied. The ship lurched, and threw her directly into Bastion.

  “Get below!” he said again. “I can’t protect you up here!”

  “No way!” she answered again. “I am not going below!”

  “Yana, I need you to do what I say!” he demanded.

  Yana clung to the rail at the stern of the ship as the front end barreled into another huge wave, jolting the ship. She thought about the bad feeling she got in the cargo hold. She peered through the rain at the Black Sea that she had just dreamt of. Both were a horror to her, but her gypsy heart would choose the open air above any sort of confines.

  “You’ll have to protect me up here,” she said, “or I will take my chances!”

  Bastion was furious, but had no time to chastise her. “Get that rope! Tie yourself to me,” he said, pointing to a coil of rope behind him.

  Yana liked that idea much better. She steadied herself to withstand the next wave as it hit them, and then went for the rope. She sat on the deck behind Bastion, and hurried to tie it around her waist. Once she had done so, she stood and came up to Bastion and clung to him from behind. She wrapped the rope around his waist and pulled it tight. Water crashed into them both, but Bastion took the brunt as she hid behind him. She pulled the rope tight around him, tied it, and then let go of him so he could struggle freely with the wheel.

  Yana felt much safer, tethered to Bastion. She let herself take in the magnificent enormity of the storm. She had seen some wicked storms in her days, but never one while there was no earth beneath her. Bastion was waging a one-man war against nature, fighting for their lives, as nature tried to pull them under. He gained some control, and got the ship turning the direction he wanted.

  Yana came back up behind him, to catch her breath. He was stoic, bracing for the next set of waves. “Ya tebya lublu,” she said again, but this time loud and clear. She wrapped her arms around him to shield herself from the onslaught of power moving against them in the elements. The wind whipped rain into their faces cruelly, and everyone on deck was squinting and struggling just to keep their feet. Waves were coming directly at them. Yana let go of Bastion and tried to stand on her own as they came.

  SLAM! A massive wave hit them sideways, and Yana went flying off of her feet. Bastion gripped the wheel with all his strength, to fight the rogue wave that overcame the other ones coming straight for them. The ship listed hard to port, and Bastion watched in horror as the mainmast dipped left, way left, nearly touching the surface of the water. The current countered itself, sweeping under the ship and pulling it back upright.

  Bastion breathed a quick sigh of relief through gritted teeth, as the waves gave them a moment of reprieve. It was only a moment, as Bastion felt his heart sink, if not his ship.

  Yana was gone.

  His eyes followed the rope as it hung over the side. “Nico!” he shouted. “Nico! Take the wheel! Come take the wheel RIGHT NOW!” Nico sprinted and stumbled across the slick deck towards the wheel, getting there as fast as he could.

  Yana fought to keep her head above the frigid, thrashing water. She could feel the rope slipping from around her waist, and clutched it with her hands, as the waves pulled her aggressively away from the ship’s rail. Slipping, slipping, she could feel herself getting pulled away. The rope unwrapped itself from her waist. She cursed herself for not tying it better. She wrapped the rope around her arm a few times, her fist at the end of it becoming her only hope of seeing the deck of the ship ever again. Water doused her face in droves, and she got only glimpses of sky that allowed her to take breaths. She dug into the rope with all of her might. She found herself wishing that she had done as Bastion directed.

  Yana realized that she was much closer to the ship than she had been. The soaked boards greeted her with a slam to the face. Yana bounced away in pain, only to see the ship tilting as though it were going to fall right on her. She hung onto the rope and braced for the boat to strike her again, but it only dipped far into the water, tipping the deck towards her.

  Bastion held on to the rail. He tugged on the rope to pull Yana in. He had not realized how long the damned thing was when he told her to use it. The ship tilted to its right again as Nico fought for control. The tilt lifted Yana up out of the water, dangling her off the side of the ship.

  “Yana!” Bastion shouted.

  Yana had no time to respond, as the ship tilted left again, dipping her back into the water as though it would roll right on top of her. Bastion set his legs against the edge of the rail and pulled hard, and fell backwards. Yana emerged from the water, and clung to the side of the ship. Bastion tried to right himself, looking in horror at the rope in his hand, having pulled it entirely from the sea with no Yana attached. He looked and saw her hands at the rail, and got to them quickly. He went to pull her up, but slipped and smashed his own face on the edge. He kept his grip on her wrist, and managed to pull her back onto the ship.

  The two of them tumbled onto the deck together. Bastion landed on top of her, and stayed there as he turned to fa
ce her in the storm.

  “Fool!” he shouted. “Foolish girl!” Bastion was angry, and choked back any further words. He grabbed her by her wrist and pulled her away from the helm. Yana was flustered as he tugged her along roughly to the Captain’s quarters. She staggered along through all the water on deck. Bastion whipped open the door to the quarters, and cast her inside. “You will stay here,” he ordered, slamming the door.

  Bastion was right. Yana had every intention of staying put. She was so shocked by this display of anger from him that she had nothing to say at all. He had always been so good to her, so sweet, so valiant... but his rebuke left her humbled. She could not remember a sheer terror greater than she had just experienced at the end of Bastion’s rope. Plunging into the cold Black Sea and being so close to being lost and smashing into the side of the boat, she had almost let go.

  Yana burst into tears as the ship continued tilting and swaying against the waves. She curled up on the floor, soaking wet and freezing cold. She was much more grieved at Bastion’s rebuke than she was hurt from the ordeal. When the sting of it subsided, she worked towards getting out of her wet clothes and trying to get warm. She pulled some blankets from the cabin’s closet and wrapped herself into them on the bed, shivering until the warmth gave her relief, even as the ship still rocked. Yana didn’t want to be locked up inside the ship if it sank, but she could no longer concern herself with it. She was not going to defy Bastion a second time.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Pook and Gumi stared out at the fields and the main road into Jedikai, at their normal post. There was nothing normal about it, though, in recent days. Coming up the road were the three gypsy wagons they had seen depart from the city.

  “Is the Prince returning from his... uh... gypsy parade?” Gumi asked.

  “I can’t see!” Pook grumbled. “You need to get us a new telescope.”

  “Me? You ask Otta for it yourself. You are the one that lost it!”

  “I don’t see the Prince,” he said, turning his attention back to the fields.

  “Looks like a lot more people than what they started with,” Gumi said. “But no Prince... and no Yana.” Pook certainly had not forgotten the gypsy wench.

  “Why don’t you go find them,” Gumi joked. “Maybe they got lost.”

  “I wish you would get lost,” said Pook, “then maybe you’d find the telescope.” They watched as the three wagons veered off the main road to Jedikai, and headed for the west meadows.

  The gypsy wagons wheeled into the camp set up by Yana’s caravan. Two other caravans had joined them in the west meadows, and the community was flourishing. Most of them had figured the three wagons to just be unknown gypsies, but great celebration broke out when Emilee, Luba, and Dimmie emerged with the gypsy captives they recovered.

  Luba was sure to relay their story to Lyubov, who had been awaiting news. Dimmie set up Jaelle next to Yana’s vacant wagon. Yana had recognized Jaelle because they had danced together a few seasons back near Sardica. They were only an acquaintance, but Jaelle was eager to thank Yana properly when she got the chance. She made up her mind to care for Kuta, Yana’s horse, until her return.

  The two black riders escorted three people past the liaison guards from the city minding the gypsies in the west meadows. Two of the rescued captives were citizens of Jedikai, and one was a villager from a little farm within the kingdom. They were eager to be restored to their homes and families. One of the west meadow guards spat in disgust as they saw the three wagons arrive, and the people spill out.

  “Just what we need,” he growled, “more damned gypsies.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Bastion braved the storm for hours, finding a way through it. He worked through the worst of it, until Nico relieved him once more at the helm. The sky was still stormy and the waves still choppy, but nothing that would further threaten to capsize the boat. Bastion took his leave, and entered the Captain’s quarters.

  Yana sat up. She had been sitting in the dark, not bothering to light a candle in the sway of the ship. She watched Bastion awkwardly try to peel all his wet clothes off of him. Her eyes grew wide. Was he going to strip naked right in front of her? The thought of it made her blood run hot.

  She got up wrapped in a blanket, as he was almost finished, down to his drawers. She saw the huge bruise on his face where he had been injured trying to save her. Yana had some bruises too, but it was only his that she was concerned about. She touched his face. He looked stern, in the poor light. He peeled off the last of his clothing, and Yana draped a blanket over him from behind, sneaking a look at his backside.

  She came and stood before him, both of them wearing only blankets.

  “You almost ended up at the bottom of the sea,” Bastion said, “and so did I.”

  Yana looked down. She couldn’t look him in the eye. An apology was not enough to express how she felt. Carefully, she lowered herself to her knees before him. “Please forgive me, Captain,” she said. She would have felt better if he would strike her, than to be in his disfavor.

  Bastion had no intention of striking her. He looked at her, this brave little gypsy girl, who had saved his life more than once, now setting herself at his feet. He had no idea how she managed to be so infuriating and so endearing all at once.

  “Stand up,” he said. Yana stood to face him, still looking down.

  “I know why you did not want to go below,” Bastion said. “It was a harsh order. No one would want to be below deck, unable to see. Still, it would have been safe, and your disobedience jeopardized the mission, the entire crew, and caused injury.”

  “Please, Bastion,” Yana said. “How can I make it right?”

  “I will decide soon,” he replied.

  “May I at least tend your injury?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  Yana dabbed at his face with a cloth, where traces of blood were evident, as was the torn skin that caused it. Bastion stood still. Yana did what little she could for his face. It wasn’t enough, for how she felt.

  She leaned in and kissed his face, right at the bruise. He allowed it. She kissed his mouth, just the edge of his lip. Bastion allowed her that, too. She kissed him once more, this time full on, and Bastion kissed her back. Yana was tentative, but certain. She was finished arguing with herself over what she wanted. She wanted him.

  She kissed him with indulgence, long and hard, as they stood in the Captain’s quarters. Yana finally stepped back with the boldness she felt from him. She dropped her blanket to the floor. She was grateful for the poor light, to help her boldness.

  Yana stood naked before Bastion, for the first time.

  Bastion’s heartbeat went wild, and desire spiked his senses. Bastion loved this young gypsy, and while he knew it for some time now... his feeling for her was crying out to be heard. Bastion dropped his blanket and stood before Yana, naked as well. The right and wrong of it did not exist, only the energy, the love, the vibration that was almost audibly humming between them as they came together to kiss again, skin to skin.

  Yana felt as though they had illuminated the room, even though it was still dark.

  “Please Bastion,” Yana said, “please take me.”

  Bastion lingered, seeking to savor her skin, her scent, her anticipation. He stroked his hands down her torso, as she moaned at the sensation.

  Bastion burned hot at the sound. His desire to hear her, her lovely voice, in agony and ecstasy overwhelmed him. He wanted to summon her sweetest sounds, as a master musician might draw from an instrument.

  “Please,” Yana begged again, “I need you, Bastion.”

  Bastion scooped her up into his arms, and set her on the bed, setting his weight, and his nakedness, atop her.

  Yana opened herself to him, determined to give all of herself to him, for his pleasure; whatever he wanted. She had held herself back in the few encounters she had in gypsy life, but Bastion deserved all of her.

  Bastion took it. He set himself and pushed within her
, causing her to gasp with pleasure and pain. She was not well-versed in what to do, but she did not have to be. She struggled to take him, and it hurt, but felt so good she would not even think to ask him to stop.

  She kissed the scar on his chest, the one he had received the night they met. He felt so hot, she thought she would burn up, as he pushed her masterfully. He took her into a climax that she flexed and twisted for, seeming as though it were easy, and he could do whatever he pleased to her, at will. Part of her begged to twist away and pull away at the sheer intensity of feeling that coursed between the two of them like lightning, but more than anything, she wanted every bit of him she could get, and she took it. Bastion consumed her like fire consumes a prairie, sweeping hot pain across her body. It took her to a place in her mind she had never been, blurring her senses. She loved it, and she took it- everything he had, everything she could.

  Bastion roared to a climax like a lion, growling, sinking his teeth into her skin as he released all his aggression and desire for her. When he could push no harder, they collapsed, spent. He remained inside her, kissing her breasts affectionately a while, unwilling to let the moment go, just yet.

  “Ya tebya lublu,” Yana said to him, again.

  Bastion smiled, reveling in the feeling of Yana so close to him.

  “What does that even mean?”

  Yana looked in his eyes, hoping to reveal as much of herself as she could, to him.

  “It means, ‘I love you’, Bastion.”

  _____________________________

  The Gypsy Queen- CHAPTER 11- “Kaffa”

  Volga took a big swig of his ale, relaxing at the Tarsus Cantina. It was near dark, and the owner was setting oil lamps around the restaurant, and candles on the tables, anticipating a busy night. Volga was looking forward to a night of celebration. They had managed to stay one step ahead of the storm on the way to Kaffa, and they had a fine haul of cargo from the Lower Reach, and when all the slaves were sold at auction, he’d have enough to set up an outpost in Trebizond. Then he could use the locals and gypsies to keep the slave market rolling, and retire in the Lower Reach, keeping all the slave girls he wanted.