Bastion was glad to have so much support. Obadiah, Otta, Nico, Nathaniel, Mille, and others- many of whom had known him his whole life. Yana was there, an outsider to the palace, but not to Bastion. They had come in from the meadows in barely enough time to be in place, but it had worked well. Bastion enjoyed the gypsies too, and had cut short his other business to be with them. He was still trying to get his footing after all that had happened. Encountering Yana and falling in love with her had been a complete surprise, and the King’s death as well. He hoped things would settle down after his Coronation... and he hoped he could find a way to persuade Yana to stay.
Yana looked over Bastion as they stood and waited for the procession to arrive, hearing the music move through the streets. It was the song of the King, as Bastion had told her to expect, and it was lovely, if not somber. Yana had worn her finest gypsy clothing. It was not silken garbs of royalty, but her friends had jumped in to help her look her best. Yana wanted to look good for Bastion, and to look good for the people, in hopes that would be a help to him.
Bastion looked absolutely regal, wearing a dark violet robe with silver trim. He was dressed as a King, but was not wearing a crown. That was yet to come, he had told her. Yana felt very small, among the dignitaries and people of office and import. Bastion’s grand attire gave him a very commanding presence. Even the look on his face added to it. It reminded Yana of the way she was afraid of him, just as she used to be before she tracked him into the gulley. Thankfully the fear was faded by the way she had come to love him. The way he kissed her, and made love to her... the way he dealt with people, even the way he fought- she loved the good things of him... and she loved the darker things of him as well.
The procession approached them slowly, having given the people of the kingdom a chance to look on as they made their way up. The streets were packed with citizens watching the King go by, paying their respects or just watching curiously. The servants of the palace brought up the King’s ornate casket from its wagon to the platform, in front of the huge gathering. Obadiah stepped forth first, speaking boldly to them.
Bastion was barely listening. He would grieve the King himself, later, after the transitions were past. Especially, he thought, when he fully assumed the burdens his father had bore so faithfully. Obadiah finished, and signaled for Bastion. Bastion came forth.
“People of Jedikai,” he boomed as loud as he could, “Our kingdom has prospered greatly under our lost King’s rule. Yet I know that the prosperity has come from the hard work and character of each of you!” The crowd buzzed at his comments.
“He served the kingdom well,” Bastion continued. “My father taught me that the greatest leader is also the greatest servant to those he leads. I will carry on his tradition, and work to serve you just as well.” The crowd reacted favorably, most of them regarding Bastion as a hero, well-known for his work defending the kingdom as Captain.
“While I will carry on the traditions of my father, I will also work to lead us to brighter days. More safety, more provision, and more harmony. I will work for peace with other kingdoms, and peace for all the peoples within this kingdom.” Yana smiled. Bastion was an excellent diplomat.
“The King always said that those who expect the blessings of freedom must undergo the fatigue of supporting it. I call on each of you to carry on the King’s work with me, supporting the freedoms we all enjoy,” Bastion said. Yana was amazed at the way he sounded so powerful. His presence and his voice were nearly overwhelming to her. He was the same man in this moment as he had been as Captain, leading them all into battle... but his power and authority was amplified as he spoke. She found it hard to believe that the darling boy she had once saved had become so mighty. It suited him well, Yana thought.
Bastion finished his short speech, and stepped back, letting Otta take over and speak for his departed brother, the King. Bastion had stopped listening. He didn’t want to be there. He understood the nature of a public figure very well, but beyond this formality, Bastion wanted to settle his feelings on the matter privately. It did not behoove a King to appear weak, so Bastion was content to offer the minimum to meet his obligation to the people, on the death of their King.
The ceremony concluded, and the casket was moved into the palace, to be buried in the royal cemetery with his ancestors. Bastion turned to Yana, amazed at how beautiful she looked in her flowing gypsy dress.
“Come,” he said, taking her hand, and leading her into the palace. Yana walked with him. She had never been much for taking orders, but she felt like she would do anything he asked, as she walked with her lover, the King.
The Great Hall was humming with activity, as it was bursting with as many people as it could hold, for the funeral reception. Bastion would have preferred to skip it, but he could not bow out of these things the way he once had as Prince. The Hall stood in applause as Bastion walked in. They came and sat at the King’s table, Bastion leading Yana to the seat next to him. There was a low rumble of murmuring that gave way to applause, as they sat. The King of Jedikai never sat next to a woman at the King’s table in the Great Hall...
unless she was queen.
Yana was no queen, but was lauded as a hero, and those who were not hostile to gypsies were grateful, if not surprised, that a gypsy girl had accomplished such heroics for their city. The freed captives all sung her praises, and many who were not fond of gypsies had respect that she had fought for their King. Those who wanted to see her become queen were most enthusiastic of all. For whatever their bias, the people in the hall honored them harmoniously.
Music abounded, as the band that had played in the procession set up, and opened with the King’s song. Food was brought, and conversations abounded into friendly chatter. Citizens shared stories of the King and his exploits, and not a table in the house could skip over the topic of Bastion and Yana, perhaps the future queen.
Yana looked up to see the servant girl from the galley, pouring her drink. Yana winked at her, and she blushed as she looked up in response. Yana motioned her closer.
“What is your name?” Yana asked as the girl approached.
“Della,” she replied.
“Bastion, Della here says that she would love to serve me as queen,” Yana said. “What do you think of that?” she teased. Bastion blushed a little himself.
“I think that she just earned herself a raise in pay,” Bastion said, smiling at Della. Della nearly dropped her tray and pitcher in response, barely saving it and righting herself.
“Thank you, Sire,” she said. “You are very kind.”
“That will be all, Della,” Bastion said, smiling.
“Yes, Sire,” she said, offering a quick and eager curtsy as she departed with some haste. Bastion looked at Yana.
“She said that, did she?”
“Aye. That and more,” Yana said, with mischief in her eyes.
“That and more?”
“The girls in the galley think that you love me,” Yana said.
“The girls in the galley are more astute than I might guess,” Bastion said with a grin. “Perhaps they all deserve a raise in wages.”
“Speaking of wages,” Yana said playfully, “wait till you see how much I charge for saving the lives of royalty!” Bastion laughed with her at that.
“You mean a heartfelt thanks and a black cloak do not cover it?”
“Hardly.”
“Well, I do have something in mind,” Bastion said. “Something very special.” Bastion let that statement hang in the air just to watch the look on her face. Yana looked at him in anticipation and dread.
“A fine pot of periwinkle.” Bastion said, bursting into laughter. Yana nudged him and rolled her eyes.
“At least it’s not a hunk of bread,” she said, feeling relieved at the joke.
“Behold!” The jester shouted, bounding out onto the floor in front of the King’s table. There was no dance floor tonight, and the music was more muted, for the occasion. But the young jester was affable and animat
ed, as he came forth.
“Today we bid goodbye, to a fine and noble King,” said the jester. “We come to celebrate him, for he inspired us to sing.” The jester moved about, speaking to the tables as he passed. Yana looked closer. There was something about this jester, who had seemed to be a gypsy, when she danced with him here before. He wore a different hat- silly, but much less ridiculous than his last one.
“The efforts and the orders, of his highness we know well. But his dreams he held more closely, so I simply could not tell. He let me come to him one day, and ask of him the rest. And what he told me, what he shared, I simply could not jest!
“And so I sing this song for you, the song of Kings gone by. The parting words he shared with me, the song of his goodbye.”
Yana looked closer. She recognized his voice. The bold jester began his performance, as the band played.
The King of this, our humble home
The King of all that I have known
The King of all, so it would seem
I asked myself, what a King would dream.
Could it be wealth, of shining gold
Could it be riches yet untold?
Could he dream of conquest, in far off lands?
To conquer kingdoms by his hands?
Could it be a queen, a son to bear?
A queen, to give the King an heir?
Could it be love, of hearth and home?
Could his dreams be yet unknown?
I thought and thought
what he might dream
but then I thought
to ask the King!
The jester played to the crowd, expressing emotion as he went.
It be not wealth,
The good King said
it be not gold, or rubies red
for riches do not warm my soul
and riches always take their toll.
It be not land and hills and spoil
It be not worth the painful toil
and how could land help, in the end
I could not call that land my friend
A queen to love, I did once find
A son to teach the things of mine
A friend who always made me laugh
when life seemed much too hard a task
I hope my son will one day see
the key of life, will set you free
For wealth is but a beggar’s dream
to find love, is the dream of Kings.
The hall erupted in thunderous applause, as the jester produced a scroll from his outfit, and presented it to King Bastion. Bastion took it and unrolled it, finding the song the jester sang written in elegant script, ‘The Dream of Kings’ inscribed across the top. Bastion nodded as his face trembled.
“Thank you,” he said, as a tear trickled down his cheek. Yana reached over discreetly to wipe it away, as the applause dwindled. The jester bowed to Bastion. “My Lord,” she addressed him. “M’lady,” she addressed Yana, and turned to go.
“Pardon me, dear jester,” Yana said. “You sing so beautifully. May I sing with you one day?”
“It would be my honor to sing with you, m’lady,” the jester answered. She had friendly eyes, and it gave her away.
“Mille!” Yana realized happily. “You are dressed like a boy! I knew you were familiar,” she said to her new friend. “From where I was sitting, you looked like a boy!”
“From where the rest of us sit,” Mille said, “you look much like a queen.”
______________________
The Gypsy Queen- CHAPTER 18- “servant”
Draiman patiently awaited his news. It had been four days since the King’s funeral, and his messenger was due to return soon. Overdue, by Draiman’s estimation. He wanted to indulge in the gypsy community down below as his men did, but decided to stay away. He pondered his plans at length, imagining the possibilities. It was worth waiting for, he thought, and it would not be long before he would have everything he wanted. If not, he thought, maybe he would take a slave for himself, and just enjoy the riches he had amassed for a while. His greed for the spoils of Jedikai, however, did not allow him to be content.
Draiman tended his morning fire, cooking some deer meat he had tracked with his men the day before. They had hired some of the gypsy women from the meadows to come and cure the meat, since Draiman couldn’t be bothered. He did like to skewer his own meat and cook it, watching it sizzle and eating it at its hottest.
As Draiman took his first bite, he saw a horseman approaching. He sat up to get a better look, and stood up, as he realized it was his man. He took a big bite of his venison, chomping it in earnest as the horseman came into his camp and dismounted. He looked weathered and burnt.
“Did you get to Kaffa?” Draiman asked, amused at the exhaustion on the man’s face.
“I got to Kaffa,” he confirmed. “I rode hard to get back.”
“You took too long. You better have good news for me,” Draiman said.
“Give me my pay first,” Gunari said with contempt.
“How dare you talk to me in that way!” Draiman scolded him. “First tell me what you learned.” Gunari was too tired to argue.
“Volga is dead,” he started.
“Yes. I expected that.”
“The port town is a mess,” he said. “It’s a poorly kept, filthy place.”
“Did you find Degonyat?” Draiman asked him.
“Find him? I was attacked! They were going to take me as a slave!”
“Degonyat attacked you?”
“His men did. I demanded to see him. I fought with two of them, but I got my way.”
“What did Degonyat say?”
“He tried to conscript me into his army!”
“His army? What army?” Draiman asked.
“He is forming an army to move on Jedikai!” Gunari said. “He said he will have over four hundred men soon.”
“When will they move?”
“I told him that you wanted to destroy the black riders, and that you are familiar with Jedikai,” Gunari said. “He said to meet him in the Lower Reach at Tatu Castle three days from now.”
“Tatu Castle?” Draiman said, surprised. “It’s a giant pile of ashes!”
“A pile of ashes with big walls,” Gunari said. “He means to use it to set up his men, to prepare an attack.” Draiman liked the idea, and his mind whirred through a thousand ideas as he spoke.
“He will have to move west to stay in the forest for cover, and avoid the charred areas. He will need our help.”
“That is exactly what he said,” Gunari agreed. Draiman frowned.
“Was he angry?” Draiman asked.
“He was so mad that the giant bushes on his face looked like they were smoking!” he said, laughing with Draiman. Draiman was so pleased with the news that he handed over his skewer, giving his meal to the weary messenger.
“One more thing,” Gunari said. “He said he cannot find as many men to fight as he was looking for. He wants you to bring any other men you might have to the Lower Reach.”
“Well, I don’t have any men besides us,” Draiman said, “and I am not sending you to the Lower Reach just yet. You deserve to enjoy your wages,” he said, tossing him the money he had promised in a burlap bundle. He wanted his men to have high morale for the battle to come.
“I will meet with him first,” Draiman said. “What will he do if he does not find enough men to come?” He began gathering his things to head south.
“He intends to use slaves in the fight,” Gunari answered, ripping his teeth into the meat.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Yana rode her horse, Kuta, towards the forest south of Jedikai. She wanted to get some time to herself, time to think. She had gotten through the funeral with Bastion, and the last few days since then had been a delightful blur, visiting the gypsies in the west meadows, dancing and telling stories. She had also met some people in the city, spending time with Bastion when he was available, and visiting with Mille and the people in the palace.
Mille had come up with an idea for a dance the night before the Coronation, and Yana had loved practicing with her.
She loved even more the way Bastion made her feel, as they made love freely, partaking of each other with an intimacy beyond what she had ever imagined. She had tried to give more of herself, and not hold back the way she always did. It was a struggle for her, between his endearing touch, and her normal way of keeping herself private. She had to guard her heart to survive, and she could feel him slipping past her defenses. She had been with a few boys in the past, but no one else had ever gotten close. This was the only time that she had even wanted someone so close.
She was surprised to find that she enjoyed most of the attention she had been getting since their mission to free the captives. She had always enjoyed dancing in a gypsy caravan, but she found herself having fun in a place she never would have guessed- the palace and streets of Jedikai. She loved being with Bastion, watching him function as a King.
Yana was most comfortable in solitude, or at least had been throughout her life. Being out in nature, climbing trees, digging in the dirt... the simple pleasures of the countryside were a tonic to her soul. It was a natural place for her to come, as she pondered the future. Her future.
It was clear that Bastion wanted her to stay. He did not pressure her, and she was thankful for that. He did not need to- being by his side was a place she had come to love. Yet it was clear that it could not go on like this forever. Each day, she feared it would be harder to leave, and she grappled with the fact that her desire to stay was stronger than she had ever felt for a place... or for a man. She knew that by the time the Coronation was finished, she would have to decide.
The Gypsy Queen Page 19
