“King Bastion,” Nico said, “I don’t think Yana was ever your enemy. I think it was Draiman, all along. He used her to hurt you.”
“And now, as his final blow, he destroyed us,” Bastion said. “I am undone, my brothers,” Bastion said. “I am ruined. Yana is gone from me, and I can accept no other.”
“You will heal, one day,” Obadiah said. “Even your heart will heal.” Bastion looked at his giant friend Obadiah. He knew what he had to do.
“Nico,” he said, “where is my knife?”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Mille walked the halls of a gloomy palace. The girls in the galley had all heard of Yana’s treason the night before. Mille was grieved to no end. Yana was well-liked among them, and Mille found herself missing their would-be queen. If past days were any indication, being around Bastion would be difficult too. A heartbreak like that could ruin a man.
Bastion came hobbling around the corner quickly with a staff in hand, surprising Mille.
“Oi, Mille,” Bastion called out.
“King Bastion, are you alright?” Mille asked.
“No, I should say not,” Bastion answered. He hobbled right past her, heading outside the palace.
Bastion got to the stables, and commanded his horse to be brought at once. The stable hands worked quickly, without question. They brought forth his stallion, and helped him up.
“Make sure there’s food and water,” Bastion said. The boys ran and added rations, and waterskins. Bastion departed straightaway, to the west meadows outside the city. He wore the red and gold mantle the gypsy girls had given him for his Coronation.
Bastion arrived in the west meadows in short order, and approached Yana’s caravan. As he feared, her wagon was gone. Emilee hurried up to him, and helped him down.
“Where has Yana gone?” Bastion asked, as he dismounted.
“We don’t know,” Emilee said. “She left this morning, barely said two words to anyone. She said not to follow her.”
“Where is Dimmie?” Bastion said. Emilee pointed, and then helped Bastion get over to where he was. Bastion knelt down, as the boy squinted in the sun to see him. Dimmie sat up.
“How’s the leg, son?” Bastion said.
“It hurts,” Dimmie said with a smile.
“Me too,” Bastion said, indicating his own leg. “You fought hard for the kingdom last night, Dimmie, and took a bad shot.”
“Aye, King Bastion,” he replied.
“From now on, I present my warriors who suffer injury with an award for honor and bravery,” Bastion said. “You are the first.” He handed him his knife. It was elegant, a piece made for royalty.
“This is my best knife, Dimmie. Now it is yours.” The young gypsy boy beamed with pride and awe, receiving the knife.
“You fight bravely for your people, and I hope you will always be brave for them. Even in loss,” Bastion said, getting choked up at his own words.
“Yes, Sire,” Dimmie said. Bastion stood up and addressed everyone.
“You are all welcome to stay in these meadows as long as you wish,” he said. “I thank you, for your kindness to me, and for your courage to fight with me. I will be back to the meadows in a few days, and I hope you will still be here. I’d like to sit with you a while.”
“Where are you going?” Emilee said.
“I am going to find Yana,” he replied.
“Will you bring her back to us?” Luba asked.
“I cannot bring her back here,” Bastion said. “But I will do what I can.”
“Wait!” Luba said. “I have some medicine for your leg.” She ran to retrieve it. She came back only moments later.
“This is working for Dimmie,” Luba said. “It will help your leg heal. Let me put some on before you go,” she said, and Bastion allowed her to apply it.
“Emilee,” Bastion said, “you did well last night. You fought well, and you saved many lives, and many slaves! Each of you.”
“Thank you, Sire,” Emilee said.
“If you wish to continue training,” he said to the young gypsy fighters, “report to Nathaniel. We will see to it.” Luba finished up, and handed Bastion a good sized jar.
“Keep some of this on it, and it will get better soon,” she said.
“You sure this stuff works?” he asked. The ointment she had applied was already stinging some.
“It works. Lyubov is recovered. She rests now, but she...” Luba looked downward.
“She misses Yana.”
“I will do what I can,” Bastion said. “Did anyone see which way she went?”
“She went that way,” Emilee said, pointing east. Bastion bid them farewell, and headed east, toward Jofranka. If his instinct was right, he had a good idea where he might find her.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Yana sat next to her little fire. She was worn out, weathered, washed-up, and wistful. She didn’t have any food to cook, she just had nothing much to do, but stare at the fire. She felt more chaos inside her than ever before. She had been restless and felt scattered, the nights before all this happened, but not so when she rode with Bastion. Now, having lost him forever, she was more scattered than ashes on a windy day.
She was a fool to come to this place, but she had to rest. She would pack up soon, and move on. It would be her last time here, so it was her only way to say goodbye.
“Dilo baxt,” she said. “What are you doing here?” Bastion was walking up the ridge. “Have you come to kill me?”
“No,” Bastion said. “I thought I might find you here.” Yana had come to the cave where they had made love, the cave she used to stay in on many nights, longing for him.
“Then I did not travel far enough,” Yana said, getting up. “I will get going. The borders of your mighty kingdom are not too far from here.”
“Yana, sit down,” Bastion said gently. She sat back down, too tired to argue about it.
“Why have you come, Bastion?” Yana said, addressing him common.
“I came to see you, Yana,” he said, getting off his horse carefully. He limped over on his staff, and sat next to her.
“I am ashamed, Bastion. I do not wish to see you,” she said.
“Do not be ashamed, Yana. I forgive you.”
“You forgive me? Have you brought a royal pardon?” Yana asked. She was being unkind, even as she desperately wanted him to hold her.
“There is no pardon. I cannot undo a decree of treason.”
“You said I would always have a place with you,” Yana said.
“You will always have a place with me, Yana, in my heart. I will always love you.”
“Even as you banish me, you say you love me? Only a fool would have his head in heaven, with his fingers in the mire.”
“It is said that inside every man is a King and a fool, Yana. I suppose it is true of me. I will gain more wisdom, in time.”
“Well, our time is up, Bastion. I have failed you, failed my own people, and no matter how much we love each other, the truth that kept us apart all these years is still true.” Yana pulled at her hair with her hands, trying to fight back a headache.
“You are still a gypsy, and I am still a King,” Bastion nodded.
“Well, rulers make bad lovers, Bastion. Maybe you should put your kingdom up for sale,” Yana said. “Run off with me and be a gypsy.”
“I am a gypsy,” Bastion said. “I have just found out that my mother was a gypsy. She traveled with Lyubov.”
“She told me, too. So, you are a gypsy King?” Yana asked.
“I am,” Bastion said, smiling a little. “Seems that a gypsy queen would not be so far-fetched an idea.”
“It is now,” Yana said. “I have ruined everything.”
“Yana, if I could somehow, I would discharge this treason and take you back with me. But I cannot, and even then, you have already rejected a life in the palace, with me.”
“Your mother died there, in that palace,” Yana said.
“My mother was well loved by a
good King,” Bastion said. “She died gypsy.”
“Like hell she did,” Yana said. “Why do you and Lyubov say that?”
“A gypsy is free to choose her home,” Bastion said. “Only a gypsy who is free to choose, is free indeed.” Yana was going to say more, but she had not really thought of it that way.
“You know about the Alexandrite,” Yana said. “Heart of a gypsy.”
“Yes.”
“You will always have my heart, Bastion. I will always love you. I want you to keep that, for all your days.” Tears eased gently down her face.
“I wanted to come... I wanted healing for you,” Bastion said. “I am sorry for the bad things that happened. I am sorry you have been hurt, in our time together.”
“Nothing hurts more than loving you, and having you, and then losing you,” Yana said. “There will be no healing for me. No release for what I have done. It is I that hurt you. I never meant to hurt you. More than my own sadness, I am so sorry to see the hurt in your eyes, with my name on it.” Bastion felt the tears coming too. He knew he had to go. He wanted to stay forever, right in that cave, and buy any precious few moments, or nights, that he could. Since he could not, he knew it would be kindest, to leave quickly.
“I love you, Yana,” he said, getting up. “I have to go.” Yana wanted to beg him to stay. She wanted to kiss his face, kiss his wounds. She wanted to say she was sorry a thousand times, if only it would help. Instead, she just watched him.
“You accepted a King’s mandate, from my father, to protect me. I deem your mandate fulfilled, and you are released. You must not come back to Jedikai, Yana. Please, find happiness. Find healing.”
Yana flung herself at him, and embraced him hard, as hard as she could, sobbing. He held her close and tight, for a long time, his own tears mixing with hers. She kissed him tentatively, and then boldly, and pressed her face into his chest. He kissed her back, savoring her scent, the feel of her, everything he could.
“Ya tebya lublu, Yana. I will always love you,” he said.
“I love you, Bastion, always. You will always have my heart.”
Bastion turned to go, and mounted up, clumsy from the injury to his leg. He couldn’t bear one more moment. He threw his saddlebags to the ground, in case Yana needed anything from them.
“Travel well, young gypsy,” Bastion said. He tore off on his big horse, through the forest, back to Jedikai.
Yana was an artist of strings, he thought- playing her harp, pulling her bow tight- but none so much as the art she had painted, the sweet music she had played, on the heartstrings of a king, who had learned to love her touch.
He wept bitterly, on a solitary ride back to the city. He would be King, and he would rule well... but he knew his throne room would be one of countless tears in solitude, when he was alone. He wondered if his father had hidden many tears there as well, when he lost his gypsy queen.
Yana took an immeasurable amount of time, trying to get her breathing to steady. She had gotten a chance to be with the man she had loved her whole life, and had been too foolish, and too selfish, to make it work. She was alone, and thought she might stay alone for a very long time. She did not feel like she would ever laugh again, and did not feel she deserved to.
She packed up her things, and gathered as much as she could- both firewood, and berries and roots in the area. Bastion had left his bags, and there was a good deal of useful stuff in them. It was enough food to get her a good long way. She was surprised to see that one of them held Bastion’s mantle, the red and gold one from his Coronation. She decided she would wear it a while, and pretend it was him, curling up on her back.
She rode out, after she had done all she could, and headed north. She thought about the crazy events that had brought her so far.
Tracking black riders. Drilling arrows into those Moldavians to save Bastion. Dancing for him. Riding into a forest fire, and getting slung across his horse. Dining in the Great Hall, singing and dancing. Getting dunked into the Black Sea. Fighting the slavers. Burning down the castle.
Making love to him, there in the cave.
Oh, making love to that beautiful man... she began to cry again, remembering how intimate and tender and aggressive he was, seeing his aura glow hot for her, generously dealing her his powerful pleasure. Yana curled up on the wide bench of her wagon like a baby, and cried herself to sleep, as her horse kept walking.
She slept on the bench, dreaming over and over again, of the night she had seen Bastion get struck by lightning, the way her wrist burnt, and she dragged him through the mud, curling up under tree roots with him in a vicious rainstorm. The flash of lightning ripped across her dreaming eyes, as the scene played again. She remembered him glowing, the way he did in red and gold- a slight hum, or vibration, at his touch.
Yana woke up with a start.
She looked around quickly to see where she was.
She cursed loudly in Romany, no one around to hear.
Off in the distance, were the imposing gates of Jedikai.
____________________
The Gypsy Queen- CHAPTER 30- “bond”
“No!” Yana shouted, getting down. She walked around to stand in front of her horse. “No! Why did you bring me here?” she fumed. Kuta looked at her, as she threw a fit.
“We were going north!” Yana admonished her horse. “No! I never want to see this place again!” She swatted Kuta on the nose, causing the horse to jerk back in reaction. Still, Yana’s horse just looked at her, patiently. It seemed the horse had gone where it wanted, when Yana had yielded any direction.
Yana looked around. It was a good long way back to Jofranka, and even farther to escape the kingdom. It would be dark soon. She decided her best bet would be just to go into the forest a little ways, and camp the night. Then, she could make sure she went where she needed to go.
“I’m sorry, girl,” she said, hugging her horse’s nose where she had slapped her. She couldn’t blame Kuta. Jedikai was a fine place for a horse, and Kuta had her own instincts. Yana led her into the forest a little ways, and found an old campsite, next to a lively little stream.
Yana unpacked a few things, and got a fire going. She was still in the kingdom that held her heart. She realized that her desire for the road was not there. The world was laid out before her, and she could go anywhere she wanted. She could ride all night and make it out, possibly. Instead, she set up camp, and went to go wash up in the river.
She washed a few garments, and toweled herself in the chilly, fresh water. It was good, a sort of cleansing in the Jedikai river. She wished she could wash away the guilt of what she had done. It weighed heavy on her.
She knew there was no way back to where she was, before she had tracked Bastion into that gulley. There was no way to act normal, to pretend that she was all right. Maybe that existence had not been so good to her anyway, she thought. She had felt scattered and chaotic then, too. Being a wanderer was a life of adventure, but her time with Bastion had certainly been an adventure too. Only, with him, it had purpose.
She was tired of being afraid. She had always thought she felt free out on the open roads, but like Lyubov had said- “you not free.” She had not been free at all. She had wanted to be with Bastion, even as a child, and could not. She had never let herself be free enough to be with him, fearing confinement. Fear and freedom did not mix, she realized. Bastion was right- a gypsy is only free if she is allowed to choose what she wants.
Yana had done her share of misdeeds, and had been on the run on many nights. She was a rogue all the more tonight, enjoying the waters of a kingdom she had betrayed. Being a rogue had been something fun, but it had no luster for her now. She had tasted honor, by Bastion’s side. It tasted good.
Bastion had said she was released from her mandate, and from the kingdom. Except, she did not feel free at all. She liked protecting Bastion, just as she had from the moment she met him. She liked his protection too, like she had felt after she had seen Draiman in the forest. Just being n
ear his gates, his courts, was a sort of comfort. She wished she had not listened to that wretch, Draiman. She had been listening to the wrong man all along. He knew how to speak to her dark side, her fears. But Bastion... he spoke to her heart, he encouraged her, lifted her up. She had feared him, but maybe it was the only the dark corners of her own heart that she should have vanquished, to let herself shine next to her King. She wished she had trusted him more. Now, he could never trust her again.
She wanted him to be her King. Even in his own imperfections, he had gained her truest heart. She could never bow to him again, but as she finished washing up, she felt that there was nothing else she would rather do. Now, she had doomed herself to a life of shadow, always on the run. From her guilt… from her lover, the King… from herself.
She had betrayed herself, most of all. She wondered how that could be, and if there was a way, somehow, to make it right. She gathered her things and went upstream a few yards. There was an eddy- a remarkably calm little pool behind a big rock in the stream. She brushed her hair, and looked into her reflection in the water, as she worked on it. She remembered the way Bastion had held her, his fist gripping her hair as he loved her, and kissed her.
Yana stopped her brush, mid-stroke. Her reflection in the pool was playing tricks on her. She could see her own aura in the water. Yet it was not hers. It was Bastion’s.
She was glowing, red and gold, in the peaceful waters. Just like when he was effused with lightning. Just like when he made love to her, and desired her. Just like when his passion burst forth from him, in sound, and voice, and love. She could not take her eyes off the reflection. Red hot, sharp gold, bursting from around her edges like there was a massive fire, just behind her. She looked behind her. The only thing behind her was a city. The city of the King.
The Gypsy Queen Page 33
