The Gypsy Queen

by Samuel Solomon

  “Yes, Sire,” Otta said. “Where are you going?”

  “I must get into the city, to be sure the regular army is set, and I will bring a battalion with me, to be sure we do this right. I will send some of them here to help,” Bastion said.

  “Remember, first light, we will drive the Ursari out and purge this kingdom.” Bastion mounted one of the horses that had belonged to the defeated army.

  “King Bastion, what about Yana?” Emilee asked, as she approached.

  “Fear not, brave gypsy,” Bastion said. “I will find her.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Yana got her left hand free, pulling it through the shackle. She struggled with the shackle still on her right hand. She was scared, and shaking badly. She could see almost nothing, having to feel around for a way out. The right hand would not slip out, though she had nearly broken it in trying. She was trying desperately to be quiet. If any of the men outside heard her stirring, she was doomed.

  She felt around, trying to find something that might help her. She was elated to find something that very well could be helpful. Bastion’s knife. It had been in her belt when Draiman threw her in.

  As fast as she could, she began prying at the bolts that held the chain into the wood.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Bastion headed for the King’s passage. It was the only way in, but after he got his troops together, he would open the city gates and get into the meadows. He hoped the Ursaris had gone. He had every intention of following through and killing them all, if they had not.

  Draiman was a slave trader, according to the information from his men. Bastion was in the business of putting slavers out of business. He was sure that Yana would abandon them and go back to her own caravan, once she knew. She would not abide slave traders.

  It would be his last kindness to her, one last act of protection.

  Then he would let her go.

  Bastion released the horse he rode, after passing the west meadows. He couldn’t take an untrained horse through the tunnel, and he needed stealth, so that the passage would not be compromised.

  Under cover of a night almost as dark as his garments, Bastion entered the King’s passage. He walked the tunnel slowly and carefully. He was nearly through, getting closer to the entrance inside the city, when he stopped. The scar on his chest, from his youth, was burning hot suddenly. He breathed in.

  What was that smell?

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Yana finally worked the bolts loose, with Bastion’s blade. She pulled hard on the chain, setting her feet against the wall. It gave, and she fell backwards. She was free! She felt around quickly. She had made too much noise. Someone would be coming.

  Yana tucked Bastion’s knife back into her belt. She had woken up with a fuzzy, hurting head. The fear that spiked her senses, realizing that she was in the shackles of a slaver, now brought her great clarity.

  Yana leapt from the wagon, as one of the men approached. She swung the chain that was still on her right arm, and whacked the man hard in the face. He fell to the ground, squirming in pain. Two more men charged her, and Yana charged them right back, whipping the chain into the face of one and slipping between them, ducking under the sword of the other. She skidded to a stop, whirled about and smashed him in the face too. Yana heard the sound of keys, when he fell. She grabbed them off his belt, and ran over to the fire. There were only a few keys on the ring, and she unlocked the shackle. She looked at the men who were trying to get to their feet. They were slavers, and she should kill them all. The chain was a pretty damn good weapon, too, she thought, hefting it. No time for that now.

  She dropped the chain, jumped over the man most directly in her way, and headed for the King’s passage. She skidded to a stop again. She ran back, and gathered her bow, and slung her arrows onto her back.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Bastion pulled his sword out in silence. Something was amiss. The slight grunt that Draiman made as he swung his sword at Bastion was enough warning. He jumped back, Draiman just missing him. Bastion was fighting in pitch dark, only his ears giving him any information.

  He was slammed into, in the back. A blade whipped across his leg, cutting him. Bastion swung his blade, pulling out his dagger in his other hand. He took a shot in the face, and then another from behind. There were two of them! Metal clashed with metal, as Bastion called upon every bit of skill and strength that he had, fighting for his life. He needed to get into open space, so he could see and fight properly. He pointed both blades forward, and charged for the city entrance. He thudded into one of them, and the wall, at the same time. He took the opportunity to shove his dagger into the man, on his way. He limped hurriedly, bursting into the old building that concealed the passage entrance from the citizens. Finally, a little light.

  Sure enough, it was Draiman.

  They paused, swords drawn, looking for an angle to attack.

  “No one to help you now,” Draiman said. He lunged, showing much more skill than their last encounter. They clashed blades, and Bastion would have had the better of it, but for his injured leg.

  “No one to help you either,” Bastion replied, looking to defend himself. Draiman was fighting strong, and Bastion was in trouble, not able to step right. He would have to end it quickly. He could tell there was a lot of blood in his boot. Their swords rang out again, as Draiman attacked, sensing that Bastion was weakening.

  Bastion parried the blows, but couldn’t get a good shot of his own to put him down. He crashed into the doors of the building, and they opened as Bastion fell out into the street. Bastion dueled Draiman ferociously, on the streets of Jedikai.

  A night watchman, commonly found on patrol throughout the city at night, saw the fight going on. He went to get help.

  Draiman unleashed a flurry of blows, knocking Bastion finally to the ground. He still held his sword, but could barely raise it in defense. Draiman was ready to finish him, and get the hell out of there.

  “Thought you’d like to know, before you die,” he said in a malevolent growl, “Your little girlfriend gave you up.”

  Bastion raised his arm, gasping for air, trying to defend against the coming blow.

  “She betrayed you, and told me I would find you in that tunnel,” he said. “I think she wants you dead even more than I do!” he snarled. He circled around, to get a clean shot and kill the hated King.

  “Don’t worry,” Draiman said. “I’ll take care of her next.” He swung the sword down, clashing with Bastion. Two night watchmen ran towards them. He swung again, beating him down, and knocking his sword from his hand.

  Zip.

  Draiman stopped. There was an arrow in his stomach.

  Zip.

  Another arrow, right next to it. He looked up. Yana was standing a few yards away, with a third arrow ready. Draiman charged her.

  Zip.

  This one hit him in the ribs. He flailed his sword at her furiously.

  Zip.

  Another arrow to the chest. Yana’s panic turned to cold hatred.

  Zip.

  Zip.

  Zip.

  Draiman had seven arrows protruding from his torso. He stumbled back, trying to keep his feet.

  Yana reached back for another arrow, but she had shot them all. She dropped the bow, and pulled Bastion’s knife from her belt. She ran right up to Draiman, and shoved the blade in him with all her might.

  Draiman reeled, still standing, and looked down. He looked Bastion right in the eyes, and tried to speak, but instead, just collapsed in the street.

  Yana ran up to Bastion, on the ground. Only then did she realize there were four night watchmen with lanterns, behind her, as the world came into focus.

  “Bastion, I...” she stopped. Bastion was looking at her with hostility. More importantly, she could see his aura, glowing red hot. She immediately heard the voice of her friend Luba in her head. She had told Yana’s fortune, the night after she saved Bastion in the gulley.

  “Follow one who p
ales in your shadow,” she had said.

  Yana’s shadow was cast over him from four lights, and he was not darkened by her shadow. Red and gold emanated from him. It did pale, as he struggled to get up. Was that what Luba had meant all along? Follow Bastion? Was it her own fate she had been running from?

  “Treason!” Bastion shouted at her. Yana was startled.

  “You have betrayed me, Yana,” Bastion said, his voice soaked in pain. “It was not enough to leave me? Not enough to go with another? You betray me?”

  Yana backed up a few steps. If she had ever been afraid of Bastion, it was never more so than now.

  “Bastion,” she said, cut off by his outrage.

  “King Bastion, you damned gypsy!” he said, getting to his feet. Yana looked around, horrified. People were gathering. She backed up some more.

  “I decree you are guilty of treason!” Bastion boomed, summoning all his strength. “You are guilty of high treason!” Yana had no words.

  “Get out of this kingdom, and never return, Yana,” he growled. “If you ever enter this kingdom again, you’ll be hanged for treason.”

  Yana tried to speak again, and failed, her pleading eyes only causing him agony.

  “Get out,” he said.

  Yana picked up her bow and ran, terrified, back into the King’s passage. She scraped along the sides in a panic, stumbling over Draiman’s dead friend Gunari, that Bastion had stabbed in their attack. Only her deep urgency to flee kept her from complete collapse. She emerged on the other side, fell to her knees, and screamed into the night air. The first light of sunrise was creeping up behind her, as she fell into the dirt and cried, all alone at the foot of Bastion’s mountain.

  _______________________

  The Gypsy Queen- CHAPTER 29- “undone”

  Bastion collapsed, losing blood. The night watchmen rushed to him.

  “King Bastion,” one of them said, sounding like he was far away.

  “Get me to the palace,” Bastion mumbled. “Hurry.”

  They lifted him up, a man under each shoulder, and they hustled toward the palace. The toes of Bastion’s boots dragged along the ground, as he fought to stay conscious. The men entered the palace, both shouting to the guards at the entrance.

  “Get the doctor!” they shouted. The guards bolted down a hall, as the two watchmen tried to stop the bleeding. One man tore his shirt off, and tied it high up on Bastion’s leg, as tight as he could. The doctor came out, dragged from sleep, and took over.

  “Get him to my room!” he shouted. The men lifted Bastion back up under his arms, and followed. The doctor hastily lit his oil lamps, and set up a mirror, angling the reflection of the candlelight back onto his table for extra light. He got Bastion ready, and cleaned the wound.

  “That’s a damn lucky slice,” the doctor told the King. “Any worse and you’d already be gone.”

  Bastion’s leg hurt badly. He thought of the doctor’s words. For him to be already dead would be a kindness. His beloved had betrayed him, a far worse injury, far more painful.

  “I’m going to stitch up this leg,” the doctor said. “You may want to drink some rum first,” he said, handing over a bottle. “I have something I can put on it to ease the pain, but it won’t help much.”

  “No. No drink. Just go,” Bastion said, thinking of the young Dimmie, who bravely faced the same kind of injury on the battlefield that night. He would do no less. The doctor began, threading Bastion’s skin. He gritted his teeth and bore the pain as long as he could. Before the doctor could finish, he finally passed out, his last conscious breath affording only one word.

  “Yana....”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Yana careened into the west meadows as the sunrise encroached over the city walls into the meadow. She staggered with determination. She got to her wagon, and began preparations. She hooked up her horse, Kuta, to her wagon. Her own caravan of gypsy friends watched her in silence, but not for long.

  “Where are you going?” Jaelle said, Emilee coming up behind her.

  “I am leaving this kingdom,” Yana said, her voice cold and hard.

  “But where are you going?” Emilee said. “You aren’t going with Draiman, are you?”

  “Draiman is dead. I killed him,” Yana said. “The Ursari wagons are already gone.”

  “You killed Draiman?” Luba said, having left Dimmie to see her. “Aren’t you going to wait until we are well enough to travel?”

  “I have been banished from the kingdom forever,” Yana said. “I go now.”

  “Banished?” Luba said. “By who?”

  “Who do you think?” Yana snarled.

  “Dimmie got hurt in a battle last night,” Luba said. “You should come see him.”

  “What battle?” Yana said, tugging a strap, getting her wagon ready.

  “We fought with Bastion and the black riders,” Emilee said. “We helped him battle an army! The Ursari tribe was working with them to overthrow the King.” Yana stopped what she was doing.

  “What kind of army?” she said.

  “Hundreds of men, Moldavians, from Kaffa,” Emilee said. “You should have seen Bastion fight! We beat the army and set more slaves free too!”

  “I think I have seen the last of Bastion,” Yana said. “This is where we say goodbye, my friends,” Luba was angry with her.

  “What about Lyubov?” she said. Yana nodded her head, and went to Lyubov’s wagon, and climbed inside. Lyubov woke, hearing her come in.

  “Goodbye, Lyubov,” she said. She would cry, but her tears were all spent. “Ya tebya lublu,” she told the old woman, kissing her forehead. “I’m free now.”

  “You not free, Yana,” Lyubov replied. “Not free.” Yana left the wagon, not wanting conversation.

  “I will come with you!” Emilee said, when she came out. “We will meet you!” She was desperate for her friend.

  “I am going alone,” Yana said. “Don’t follow me.” She hopped up on the bench of her wagon, and released the brake.

  “Travel well,” she bid them, and snapped the reins. Her horse faithfully pulled forward, and she headed east. Her friends all watched in disbelief, as Yana left them all behind.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Bastion sat in his bed, his Uncle Otta next to him. Nico and Obadiah came in and joined them.

  “You know, you really should stick to the palace,” Nico said. “I don’t think you’re cut out for field work,” he joked with the King.

  “Yeah,” Bastion said. “I will send Otta out with the black riders next time.”

  “I think I will stay here in the palace too,” Otta said. “A fight like last night should be the last for an old man like me.”

  “Sorry I missed the action, boys,” Obadiah said. “I have just been busy trying to finish the stone work.”

  “How is it coming?” Bastion said.

  “The towers are about finished,” Obadiah said. “All I have left is your project in the west meadows.” He thought about it for a moment. “Do you still want me to complete that project, Sire? We are far along.”

  “Yes,” Bastion said. “Finish the work.” Obadiah knew the story of last night, including Bastion declaring treason on Yana.

  “What are you going to do, Sire?” Nico asked.

  “There is little I can do,” Bastion replied. Otta spoke up to explain.

  “A decree of treason cannot be undone,” Otta said. “It cannot be pardoned, and it cannot be rescinded. If Yana comes back into Jedikai, she will be hung for treason.”

  “You... can’t fix it?” Obadiah said. “That is a harsh punishment, Sire.”

  “I wish I could undo it,” Bastion said. “I still love her. But she did commit treason. I cannot change what she chose to do, and now, I cannot change her penalty for it.”

  “Now you know what it is to be King,” Otta said. “Your father endured sacrifice, too.”

  “Otta, was my mother a gypsy?” Bastion asked.

  “Yes. She was a beautiful gypsy w
oman,” Otta said.

  “Was she happy here in the city?”

  “She was happy with the King. She chose this life. She did not travel very much after marrying your father, but she managed. She loved you dearly,” Otta said.

  “Why didn’t my father ever tell me?”

  “He ordered us not to. He didn’t want to see any mistreatment like the kind you got from choosing Yana.” Bastion let that sink in.

  “Tell me,” Bastion said, “if my father was in my position right now, what do you think he would do?”

  “I saw the way your father loved your mother,” Otta said. “I cannot dream of him being in a moment as awful as yours last night. But if I knew the man at all... I know he would not have let his little gypsy go so easily.”

  “What am I to do? She left me, she betrayed me, and now she cannot come back,” Bastion said. He leaned his head back in exasperation. “If I had just killed that lying gypsy, there would be no treason now. I should have protected her from him.”

  “No doubt he lied to her at will,” Otta said. “Every single thing he ever told me was a lie. It was like getting information backwards.”

  “Do you think he lied about Yana selling me out?” Bastion said.

  “There was no other way Draiman could have known about the passage,” Otta said. “He may have tricked her to get the secret, though.”