The Gypsy Queen

by Samuel Solomon

  CRACK!

  Bastion could not tell if that cut her open. Blood was everywhere. Bastion felt as though he could feel the strikes on his own back, just as he could feel her energy, without touch, during happier times.

  CRACK!

  Yana jerked hard, and screamed horribly through the leather. Bastion could not stand it, but his relief could only come from finishing this. Settling it forever. He wanted to hurry and be done with it, but he needed to give her some sort of intervals to handle the pain.

  CRACK!

  Her skin opened again. Bastion could feel the jagged edge dig into her. She pulled and fought her chains. Bastion was in absolute awe.

  What sort of girl would love a man enough to do this?

  CRACK!

  She shrieked again, and Bastion could feel her agony. He was furious with himself, that it had come to this. He wished he would have prevented this somehow. It was the worst heartache he had ever known. It was one thing to kill an enemy, but to draw blood from Yana, as she knelt and allowed him to willingly...

  His love for her was bursting inside him. He had admired her on many occasions, but none so much as this. For whatever her past, her transgressions, he would never doubt her. Not after this. She was proving herself. Just one more, he thought.

  CRACK!

  Yana was wracked with pain, sobbing wildly, and went between jerking the chains tight, and setting her face to the ground, on her knees. She loved Bastion, as she suffered. She did this for him. She did this for her. She did this, because it had to be done.

  “Ten!” the magistrate called. “Enough.”

  Bastion looked upon her for just one more moment, as the whip fell from his hand. He was awestruck. She collapsed, broken and bloody... and as beautiful as a woman could ever be. He had loved her dearly. He loved her now, infinitely. Just as she had earned her stripes, she had earned his heart.

  He rushed to her, and began to unfasten her bonds quickly. She was crying uncontrollably, and he hefted her easily into his arms, and hurried her away, into the halls of the palace. He was fully unaware of his own injury, or that he was limping. All he cared about was Yana.

  “Did I do good, my Lord?” she asked through her pain. Bastion felt love and pain and grief course through his veins, at the question.

  “Yes my love,” Bastion said, choking back his own tears.

  Yana was awash with crushing, screaming pain, but she was in the arms of the man she loved. She was in the only place in the world she wanted to be, and finally, she was truly free.

  Bastion had set her free, after all.

  He took her to his chambers and set her on his bed, hastily tearing into his sheets for bandages for her wounds.

  “Release me,” Yana whimpered, on the bed. “Please, take me.”

  “What?” Bastion could not have heard that right.

  “Take me, take me right now, I am yours!” Yana cried. “I need you!”

  Bastion needed her too.

  “Restore me, my love,” Yana said. “Restore me to you, if you desire me.”

  Bastion was full of desire for her, beyond measure. He dropped his clothes to the floor, and pulled off the garment from her waist. He entered her, as she screamed in pain anew. Her wounds were bleeding, and her blood was on her skin, on Bastion, and on the bed. The leather strap was still around her neck.

  Bastion thrust into her, as she cried out, an ecstasy beyond any other, her mind exploded into a mix of pleasure and pain that was beyond her understanding. She thrashed, she struggled, and she took what he gave.

  Bastion was ferocious and tender, loving her deeply, as he pushed. As he drove himself inside her, even the pain in her voice inspired him. The sight of her, wounded and restored, as they made love... was more powerful than he would have imagined.

  Bastion unleashed, climaxing with her as she screamed, gripping his body as he pulled her upward, her legs clutching around his waist. Yana came hard, shuddering, barely able to breathe. Finally, she was spent, and collapsed on the bed, unconscious.

  Bastion set his weight on her, but only briefly. Yana needed help. He stumbled backward from the bed, looking at her.

  She was passed out, naked and bleeding.

  It was done.

  Finished.

  Restored. Resolved. Reconciled.

  Healed.

  They could be together for all their lives in honor now, if they wished it.

  She had surely saved his life once more.

  He looked around, needing to tend to her. He saw that his bath had been filled. That was highly unusual. He looked closer, walking towards it. The water had cooled some.

  Right next to it, was a small coffee urn, and two little clay cups.

  Bastion knew who must have drawn this bath, and set them out for him. He appreciated it greatly. There were towels, and other supplies. He picked Yana up from the bed, as she was regaining consciousness. He stepped into the bath, setting her in his lap, and dipping her in. He tended her wounds, as she was mostly quiet, just kissing his hands sometimes as he went. The water ran red, but he cleaned her wounds, and bandaged them, as she sat on the edge of the tub. Bastion remembered the salve that Luba had made for Dimmie, and had given to him. It was cold, as Bastion was finishing, making Yana jump a little.

  “Luba made this,” Bastion said, “for my leg.”

  “It’s freezing!” Yana said, with a little laugh. Bastion poured them some coffee from the urn. It had cooled some too, but was still good and warm. Bastion finally finished, and set one of his robes on her- the violet one with silver trim. He led her to the bed, pulling off the sheets, so they could just rest a while.

  “Please, my Lord, I must tend you,” Yana said, guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed. Bastion was not sure what she meant. Yana went and got the salve that Luba had made. She knelt down, tending Bastion’s leg, the ugly-looking wound he had gotten doing battle with Draiman. He looked at her, in his royal robe, tending to him, even after he had whipped her severely.

  She was like no other.

  Yana went and got her shawl, the red and gold one that matched Bastion’s mantle, that she saw hanging on the wall. She wrapped his leg with it, making his ugly wound into something beautiful, and she watched his aura light up, complementing the shawl perfectly.

  “Yana,” Bastion said. “Will you marry me?” Yana looked up at him.

  “Will you tell me we will not fail?” Yana said.

  “We will not fail, Yana,” he said. “We will be invincible.”

  “We are invincible,” he said.

  Yana believed him.

  More than ever, she knew it was true.

  Just as the stones contained the fire, she knew he would make sure.

  Bastion and Yana spent the rest of the day and night in his chambers. They ate fine foods, and drank fresh water and good wine. They talked and laughed into the night, as the world melted away, leaving only the two of them, and their love for each other. They tended each other’s wounds, and at the end of the night, she pressed her wounded backside into the chest of her King.

  Yana fell asleep that night, in the curve of Bastion’s body.

  ______________________

  The Gypsy Queen- CHAPTER 31- “ride”

  Bastion escorted Yana through the city streets. They dressed so as not to be noticed. Bastion had insisted he had something to show her. He seemed eager to share it. Yana was sore from her wounds, though Bastion had given her fresh bandages when they woke. He took her to the tower where they had made love, the night before the Coronation.

  They climbed the stairs inside, emerging on the flat roof of it. They looked out onto the meadows, where the gypsy wagons were camped.

  “There,” Bastion pointed. It was the big structure that Obadiah had been working on. Yana had asked about it a few times, but Bastion had given vague answers.

  “What is it, Bastion?”

  “It is a theatre,” he said. “I had it built for you.”

  “A theatre? Wh
at?” Yana looked. It was an open air amphitheatre, with tiered steps and a fine stage.

  “I built it for you, so that you would always have a place to dance and sing and perform with your friends. The citizens can all come see the performances, and maybe they will understand the beauty of the gypsy people.”

  Yana was speechless.

  “I had hoped that it might encourage you to stay. The west meadows will be a gypsy territory, where they will always be welcome to stay. Even if you have to be in the city... well, this way, some of your people would always be nearby.”

  “Errr....” he said, “Our people.” The King was half-gypsy himself, after all.

  Yana embraced him.

  When Bastion wanted to give someone a gift, he certainly did it up big.

  “Thank you,” she said. “You will always be my gypsy man,” Yana said, kissing him.

  “And you will always be my queen,” he said. They watched the stone workers, as they worked to finish the project.

  “What will you name it?” Bastion asked.

  “I get to name it?” Yana said.

  “Well, it is yours. You name it.” Bastion said.

  “We will call it the Kesali Lyubov theatre,” Yana said. The name of Bastion’s mother, and her own dear friend.

  “Well done,” he said. “Well done.” He looked across the horizon, over the kingdom.

  “What will you name these?” Bastion said. “These towers.” Yana looked out at them. There were five of them in total, fortifying the city. They were fortresses, each of them. Yana remembered the way she felt safe, close to her lover’s steadfast walls. The way she felt, standing atop them even now.

  “You want me to name them?” Yana said. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” he said. Yana smiled with delight.

  “Then they shall be called bastions.”

  Bastion and Yana headed for the Great Hall. Bastion had called a meeting, and the throne room was too small for those who were to attend. Yana was dressed beautifully, looking every bit a gypsy. She was eager to see her friends.

  “Yana!” Emilee called out, seeing her first. Yana hurried to them. Old Lyubov had come, and Yana flung her arms around her, as they all crowded her, each of them speaking at once.

  “Lyubov, are you well?” Yana asked, concerned.

  “Da. Better,” she said. “Little Luba heal me.” Luba looked at her, and they both remembered the healing that Luba had seen in her ball.

  Yana’s healing.

  Luba’s face beamed with joy, and Yana kissed her cheek.

  “You are a healer,” Yana said to her. “Thank you.” She hugged Lyubov and Luba both, together.

  “Now you free,” Lyubov said. “Now you free.”

  Dimmie showed off his knife, and his wound from battle. Emilee, Jaelle, Kizzy and Nadya, her whole caravan was there. Mille the gypsy jester arrived, and hugged her friend.

  “I was so afraid for you,” Mille said. “I wanted to come help you.”

  “Maybe someday we can go on that trip after all,” Yana said. “Think I can get a ride in your new wagon?” Mille laughed and hugged her.

  Soon, citizens came to enter the hall as well. Yana recognized some of them from Obadiah’s party, and frowned. Bastion had explained Otta’s behavior, and all was well with him, but these people- they were the ones she overheard insulting her and the gypsies badly. Bastion and Yana stood elevated, where the King’s table normally was. It was removed for the occasion.

  “Everyone is here, your highness,” Otta said, coming up to him. Bastion was dressed regally, in his finest attire, wearing his crown. He wanted to enjoy Yana and her friends too, but he had business first.

  “Citizens of Jedikai!” he announced. “Romany gypsies! I have brought you here to make a decree.” Bastion strode the stage.

  “A new time has come for this kingdom,” he said. “The gypsies will always be allowed in the west meadows, from now on. It will be open territory for citizens of Jedikai as well. I have built a new theatre, a bridge between the city and the meadow. All will be welcome to attend, and all will be welcome to perform.

  “I have created a new program, so that all gypsies will be able to find work, in this realm. Citizens will have the opportunity to cooperate with gypsies. We will sow new crops, and farmland. No one goes hungry. Jedikai will be a land of plenty!” The people in the hall applauded.

  “Gypsies will be taught to respect the laws of the kingdom, so that citizens are not harmed. Our laws, our structure, will be supported and enforced. Respect for our protocols and laws will bring prosperity, and prosperity will drive out fear and lack, and drive out crime.

  “I have worked my whole life to fight for the security and well-being of this city. Recently, many gypsies have offered up their own lives alongside me, to that same end. It is the citizens that support this kingdom that made us powerful enough to drive out our enemies. But it is the gypsies who have saved the life of its King, and are worthy of honor as well.”

  They had all heard the news of the battle that Bastion had gained victory in, and the Ursari gypsies- the troublemakers- that had been driven out.

  “I have commissioned for a shelter to be built in the city, for any freed slaves or captives who need shelter. Jedikai shall be a safe haven for those in need, and those in trouble. Jedikai will be a land of freedom, a sanctuary for all people.” Everyone applauded enthusiastically.

  Bastion brought forth Yana, her wounds concealed by the garments+ that adorned her.

  “Yana will be my wife. Yana will be the queen of Jedikai. She has gained honor and esteem with me, and she has earned her place beside me in every possible way. She will be honored by the people of this kingdom.”

  Bastion paused for effect. He wanted to drive this point home most of all.

  “I will not abide disrespect of the queen. Anyone who would dishonor the queen would embarrass themselves as fools. I would regard it as an affront to my father the King, my mother, the queen, and to me personally. Anyone who would transgress this decree will answer to me,” he said with conviction. Bastion signaled, and Otta came forth, with a feminine crown.

  Bastion took it, and turned to Yana. She knelt before him, in the way she had come to love. Bastion set the crown upon her head. He stepped back, to see her as glorious as she was. She stood, and looked out at her friends.

  An Alexandrite stone, the heart of a gypsy, was set perfectly in the center of her crown.

  Every person in the room bowed before her.

  The applause that followed was not thunderous, like that of many thousands, but it was the most exceptional time Yana had ever heard it.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  The hall had cleared out some, the citizens going about their business. Some gypsies lingered behind, catching up with Yana and Bastion.

  They laughed, and played with Mille, and even Otta joined in too.

  A man burst into the Great Hall, hurrying to Otta. He pulled Otta aside, and whispered to him.

  “Send them in!” Otta said. The man went outside, and brought in three gypsies- Two men, and one woman.

  “Yana!” one of the men shouted. “It’s me, Vigo! You remember me? We gave you coffee?” Yana remembered him well. She had sipped coffee for the first time with him, and Bastion, on their way back to the city. They had danced and celebrated, but became somber, realizing that Bastion did not know his father had died. All those gypsies bowing to the new King was a moment she would not soon forget.

  “Of course,” Yana said, hugging him. “What brings you into the city?”

  “This here is Pali and Kari,” he introduced his companions. “Kari says she has some news!”

  “News? For me?” Yana asked. Pali, the other man, spoke up first.

  “I was in the army from Kaffa,” he said. “Thank you for saving us,” he said to Bastion, who stood beside Yana.

  “You saved me too,” Kari said. “I was on the ship back from Kaffa.” She did look familiar.

 
“Well, we all got to talking. News of Yana, the gypsy warrior, has spread far and wide!” Kari said.

  “Tell her the good part!” Vigo encouraged her.

  “Yana,” Kari said, “We think we met your parents.”

  Yana’s face turned white, and she felt a little faint. Bastion held her, and spoke up.

  “What? Yana’s parents?” he said. Yana had been out searching for her parents nine years ago, when she saw Bastion struck by lightning. She had saved him, but had given up the search for her own parents.

  “Yes. Less than two years ago,” Kari said. “Way up north, above the Dneister river, where I was working when I was captured by the Moldavians. They were in the same cage as me for a while, but I do not know where they ended up.” Yana tried to get her wits about her.

  “What are my parents’ names?” Yana asked them.

  “These folks’ names was Zindelo and Violea,” Kari said. Yana felt weak, and Bastion supported her again.

  Those were, in fact, her parents’ names.