“How did you know I planned to leave?”
“It is not hard to tell what you are thinking. Or what your heart is saying. Don’t act in haste, child. True love comes only once to each of us who is fortunate enough to find it. But to find it, sometimes one has to endure much pain. Do you fear the pain, Kristiana?”
“Yes… no… I don’t know,” she replied, confused by Sidi’s words. But as she stared out across the encampment she spotted Balo. He sat by the men’s campfire, the lovely Liza serving him another cup of dark ale. Once done, Liza did not leave him but hovered close behind him. He gazed up over his shoulder at her, a wide smile splitting his lips. Looking away, Kristiana whispered: “Yes, Sidi, I do fear the pain.”
Silently Kristiana rose and walked into the night, hoping to hide the tears that accompanied the agony she already suffered.
In another wood, only a dozen miles away, a campfire glowed in the darkness, cold blue eyes staring into its flames. At the sound of hoofbeats Edward MacHugh leapt to his feet. “Well?” he asked of Richard Black when the man had reined his horse to a halt.
As he looked down on his liege lord Black shook his head.
“Nothing. I’ve questioned everyone I’ve seen. She’s vanished,” Richard said of Kristiana, “and so has the Gypsy.”
“She could not have vanished. Someone has to have seen her or the bastard she’s with.”
“In these crags and forests it’s doubtful,” he replied. “One thing is certain. Wherever she is, she’s well hidden.”
“Aye,” Edward growled. “It’s almost as though she’s cloistered herself.” He thought a moment, then a cool smile crossed his face. “Richard, how far is it to Stirling?”
“By horseback, one, maybe two days’ ride.”
“On the morrow we shall head there to find the whereabouts of the nearest nunnery.”
5
Activity hummed in the Gypsy camp, which was hidden in the wood a short distance from Stirling. As the men groomed their horses under a late afternoon sun, checking hooves and brushing coats, the women preened, dressing in their finest, readying themselves for their journey into town.
The children, who usually chased around the wagons in total abandon, appeared subdued. Their faces and hands cleaner than usual, the youngsters listened to last-minute instructions from their mothers. Soon the men, along with the horseflesh to be traded, would leave for Stirling. A short time later, depending upon the receptiveness of the people there, the women and children would follow in hopes of telling fortunes and begging for coins. Lifting a purse or two would not be out of the ordinary, as long as the Gypsies gained a few pieces of gold or silver for their meager needs.
Holding close to Sidi’s Wagon, Kristiana beheld the excitement and wished she was allowed to join in. But only moments before, the one she knew as Balo had stridden across the camp. In the clipped tone he had used since the incident at the stream, occurring no more than three days ago, he had informed her that when he’d returned from town he would take her to the nunnery. Until then she was to keep to the camp and care for Sidi.
Undoubtedly she was to be watched, for she was also informed that Rupa, along with several other women, planned to stay behind to prepare the evening meal for those who had gone into Stirling. His golden eyes had held hers, and although the words had remained unspoken, Kristiana had read the edict in his hard gaze, stating: If she strayed so much as one foot from the camp, she would pay dearly for her disobedience.
As she now viewed him across the wide clearing, regarding how his long fingers gently stroked his mare’s foreleg, Kristiana momentarily dismissed his words of caution and thought to take herself off to the nunnery alone, for it would save her the misery of having to travel alongside him. But wisely, she feared what might happen if she were caught.
Journeying by foot, she had not the speed to reach Stirling as swiftly as he would in his cart. And if he were to reappear without delay—for no mention had been made of exactly when he’d thought to return for her—they were bound to cross paths on the lone trail leading to and from the camp.
Should that happen, the saints only knew the potency of his fury or what form it might take. Undoubtedly his avenging anger would descend upon her like a bolt of lightning, and Kristiana preferred not to be in its path when it struck. Even so, to be able to escape him now, while her emotions were still held firmly together, possessed great appeal—far more than Kristiana thought sensible. She couldn’t help wondering what sort of fool would take the risk. A dull-witted one, she conceded, deciding not to take the chance.
“Your Gajo eyes look longingly at him, but I have noticed he does not gaze upon you in the same light,” Liza stated, drawing Kristiana’s surprised stare, for the words were the first ever uttered to her by the girl. The sloe-eyed beauty moved from the side of the wagon, pausing at Kristiana’s side. “If you continue to stay with us, chasing after him as you do, he might yield and use you, the same as he would any whore. But you will not win his heart, for he is expected to marry one of his own kind. It is the way of the Rom, and he knows it. Besides, it is already understood—of all the maids in the kumpania, he will have his uncle ask for me.” Liza laughed throatily. “Have you not noticed he is entranced by me? Or are you that stupid? Soon Balo and I will be living together as one. So save your heart the pain of seeing it done and leave us while you still have your Gajo pride. Otherwise you will have nothing.”
Her green eyes inspected Liza, and Kristiana silently questioned whether the girl spoke the truth about Balo. Did he intend to marry Liza? Or was Liza merely voicing her own desires, hoping to hurt Kristiana with her lies? Unable to determine which, Kristiana immediately decided she had no wish to learn if the Gypsy girl’s statements were genuine. She’d already endured enough.
Almost as though Liza had read her mind, she remarked, “If you’d like, you may travel to Stirling with the women and children. You could find the church and ask for shelter. Surely those of your faith would not turn you away from their door.”
Although at first she considered telling Liza of Balo’s orders instructing Kristiana to stay at the camp, and that he planned to fetch her later, intent on depositing her at a nunnery located somewhere near Stirling, she withheld the information and pondered the young woman’s offer.
Traveling with the women and children she would easily blend with the group. And should her protector return for her, passing the assembly along the way, he’d most likely not notice her hidden among them. By the time he discovered her missing she’d already have found protection in the church.
Her hopes of escape soared, but Kristiana was aware there was only one reason she would chance it. The thought of saying a last farewell to him filled her with a sorrowful kind of agony, one she could not explain. By leaving now she would save herself the trouble of discovering whether or not the pain ripened in its intensity when their words of parting were ultimately spoken.
To protect her tenuous emotions from any further abuse, Kristiana was willing to risk anything. “I will go with you, Liza,” she responded at last, “but not because of what you have said about Balo and you. I wish to be among my own people and away from yours. That is the only reason I accept your offer.” It was a lie, she knew, but she refused to admit otherwise. “When it is time, come for me. Until then I will be with Sidi.”
Needing to be alone, Kristiana turned on her heel and entered the wagon. Hidden inside, she sat on a low stool and listened to the whispers of breath coming from the sleeping Sidi. Over the past few days the woman’s physical stamina had lessened, and although Sidi had said not to fret, Kristiana was nonetheless concerned about her health.
Of all those Kristiana had met, Sidi was the only one she would miss. The only one, that was, except for Balo. He had saved her from Edward’s wrath, giving her over to Sidi, who had been a kind and patient teacher. Kristiana would leave with a heavy heart, knowing she would never see the woman again, but she would remember her always. In the short tim
e she’d been with the Gypsies Kristiana had felt an uncommon bond forged between Sidi and herself. It was one never to be broken.
After what seemed an eternity Kristiana rose from the stool and walked to the door. The men were gone, and as she watched, the women gathered the children for the long trek into Stirling. Several carts stood in position, ready to move, with the oldest of the boys seated on the driving boards. Deciding she had better take her place with the others, Kristiana glanced over her shoulder at Sidi. Half expecting to hear some words of wisdom flow from the aged woman’s lips, Kristiana was disappointed none came forth. Only soft snores met her ears, and with one last look, which bespoke her affection, Kristiana exited the wagon, heading in Rupa’s direction.
“I am leaving with the others,” she stated once she’d reached the woman’s side. “Although Balo has offered to see me safely away from here, I do not wish to trouble him further.”
“He has stated that you are to remain here,” Rupa countered, “but I agree with you. It is better for him if you go now. He no longer needs to be bothered with you.”
Contemplating why Rupa disliked her so, Kristiana examined the woman a long moment. “No,” she said finally, “he need not be bothered with me. Please have one of the women see to Sidi. I shall miss her, for she is the only one among you who displays both wisdom and kindness. If you would open your mind and heart, you could learn much from her. But I suppose you lack the intelligence to do so.” She smiled with false politeness. “Farewell, Rupa. But before I go, I must tell you your indulgence in accepting a stranger into your midst has been more than I had expected. I shall never forget you, nor your inhospitable manners. It has been an experience, to say the least. Oh, and I’d be most happy to return your clothes—after they’ve been laundered, of course—but I’m convinced you would merely burn them. They are naught but rags anyway, so instead of giving you the honor of the deed, I shall set them aflame myself.”
As her leather-clad feet struck a course for the group collected at the edge of the camp a smiling Kristiana heard a string of Gypsy curses erupt from Rupa’s mouth to follow her across the clearing. Normally she would never have spoken so derogatorily to anyone, but Rupa deserved the aspersions Kristiana had mounded upon her. Those who gave also received, and for once Kristiana took pride in the fact that she’d been the one to inflict a shower of stinging insults upon Balo’s aunt, and not the other way around.
Placing herself in the middle of the group, Kristiana walked alongside the others as they aimed themselves toward Stirling. Surprisingly no one bothered her, and she decided the passive throng readily endured her presence for one reason only: They were as glad to be rid of her as she was to be rid of them.
Striding the lane, her feet matched the pace of those beside her without the slightest bit of difficulty, which she attributed to the application of ointment and herbs Balo had given her. Along the way Kristiana kept her thoughts occupied by watching the forest creatures as they scampered for cover, the party of women and children passing too close to their normally undisturbed sanctuary. After a while she viewed the clouds, envisioning all sorts of animals in their irregular shapes. When she wearied of that, she counted her steps. Anything to keep her mind off the handsome Gypsy whom she wanted desperately to escape.
The narrow trail finally bled into a wide road, and as the late afternoon sun cast its long shadows over the landscape the excited group turned toward their destination. In the distance the looming edifice of Stirling Castle sat atop a tower of rock, acting as their guide. Inside a half hour’s time they entered the town, the women and children streaming toward its center, Kristiana flowing along with them.
When the band had reached Stirling’s core the women pulled small wooden tables from the loaded carts; low-sitting stools were extracted along with them. As their mothers made ready to tell fortunes the children scattered in all directions, searching out those who looked as though they could spare a coin or two.
Kristiana viewed the goings-on with a critical eye and was soon dismayed by what she saw. A merchant who had waved the swarthy band of youngsters away from his presence found himself quickly surrounded by the yammering group. Small hands groped at his clothing as dark eyes pleaded for his attention. While the persistent lot continued their beggar’s game one young lad, a tiny blade in hand, sliced through the man’s leather purse. Several coins dropped into the Gypsy boy’s hand; then, as fast as the band had surrounded the man, they dispersed, setting off toward another hapless victim, the departing merchant unaware he’d been robbed.
The women were no better than the children, though a lot less bold in their larceny. Preying upon young girls’ hopes and sick people’s fears, they would forecast a terrible misfortune, offering to sell the ill-fated individuals a talisman or a potion guaranteed to keep the evil from them.
From her stay with the Gypsies Kristiana knew they were experts in the preparation of herbs, roots, and berries. They were also highly superstitious, wearing talismans of their own, hoping to stave off the spirits of the dead. But Sidi had told her in one of their many conversations that although it was a game of trickery used on the Gaje, fortune-telling was forbidden among her own people.
“No one can foretell the future, my child,” she had said. “It is a waste of time and effort to worry over what is to be. Think only of this day, for as I have told you, it is all you may have.”
Watching now as a worthless potion especially prepared for the Gaje war handed over for an extra coin to a young girl who had hopes of trapping a certain young man in marriage, Kristiana was appalled by the machinations of the thieving bunch. Falling back against a stone wall, she hid herself in its shadows. She thought to expose their trickery, but to do so would mean her own downfall. Dressed like the Gypsies, she was, in the eyes of those who resided at Stirling, one of them. And if the dark-skinned group’s deceit was ever discovered, she’d be routed with the rest. Undoubtedly the angry residents would bind them all, then toss them into the River Forth as easily as they would a sack of unwanted kittens.
No longer wishing to be involved with the sordid lot, Kristiana pulled herself away from the wall and had started to make her way toward the Church of the Holy Rude, its tower rising in the distance, when the sound of rumbling wheels met her ears. Looking up, she saw Balo’s cart bearing down on them all. Immediately she ducked behind two women who stood shoulder to shoulder. Once beckoning at people to have their fortunes told, their attention now centered on the wobbling cart as it drew to a sliding halt.
A spate of Romani passed through the newcomer’s lips, his sharp golden eyes searching the women in general. Liza broke from the group, her hips undulating in a provocative sway high above her barefooted gait. Through the fine slit separating the two women Kristiana watched as the Gypsy girl pointed in the direction of the camp while replying to his query in her native tongue. Then, with a whip of the reins, the cart sped off.
A relieved sigh escaped Kristiana; she straightened. “What did he say?” she inquired of Liza when the girl had reached her side.
“He goes to find you,” Liza lied, knowing a warning had sounded from Balo’s lips. Already the women were gathering the children, anxious to flee Stirling, but Liza saw Kristiana had eyes only for the shaky cart as it traversed the roadway. “By his haste,” she said, waving at the vehicle, growing ever more distant, “I think he is most eager to be rid of you. Perhaps you should make your way to the church. When he finds you gone he may search you out and beat you for your disobedience.”
“Beat me?” Kristiana asked, green eyes widening.
“Why he would waste the effort, I cannot say. But it is his right, for you are his property until he unburdens himself of you.” Boldly Liza attempted to frighten Kristiana even more. “You are worth a few coins, but I think not as many as Balo has said he will receive.”
“Are you saying he intends to sell me?” Kristiana saw Liza’s nod and laughed. “The nuns, I trust, will have something to say about that.�
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“Nuns?” Liza questioned, an affected frown marring her brow. “He does not plan to take you to the nuns.” She shook her head, showing dismay. “Perhaps it is best you know so you can make your escape. I would have told you earlier, but you are a Gajo, an outsider, and we are expected to protect our own. It is difficult to break the tradition. If found out, I may be punished for it.”
“Tell me what, Liza?” Kristiana asked, trying to understand the girl.
Liza sighed. “Last night, while serving the men, I heard Balo tell his uncle a man of prominence has bargained for you. This man desires the return of his betrothed.” Liza saw Kristiana blanch and smiled to herself. Knowing only small portions of the Gajo girl’s story, which she had gleaned from the private conversations between Balo and his uncle shared at the evening meal, she hoped to make the girl flee. “I understand this man is most aggressive and is very anxious to bed you. Of course, if you wish to be returned to him, the choice is yours.”
A sudden bout of nausea overtook Kristiana. Swallowing hard, she fought for control. “If I did, Liza, I would never have fled Edward’s clutches in the first place. I must seek a place of safety,” she stated; then she turned and headed toward the church.
“Stupid Gajo,” Liza said, her hard black eyes watching Kristiana’s bolting form. “You are too easily deceived. And because of it, the man who is of your race and also of mine will soon belong to me.”
With a toss of her dark head Liza turned herself in the direction of the encampment, setting off toward it If danger was brewing, as Balo had warned, she wanted to be nowhere near its source.
As Kristiana quickly wended her way through the narrow streets rude remarks and censuring looks met her. Ignoring them as best she could, she kept to her course, the church tower her focal point. But soon her ears caught the sound of rising voices, and she glanced over her shoulder to see that a handful of people had begun to follow her, hurling curses at her as they did so.
Deeper Than Roses Page 10
