by Raven, T. R.
Claire shrugged nonchalantly. She wanted to tell the woman she didn’t love Garridan and never would, that her heart died with Nikoli. Nothing mattered anymore to her.
Renka came out of her caravan and pulled Claire into a strong embrace. “It will be done,” she announced. “Tomorrow afternoon, you will wed Garridan. The women will ready your dress, hunters are out preparing for the feast we will have in celebration.” She held Claire at arm’s length, studying her. She lowered her voice so only Claire could hear her. “I know you are sad, now, it will pass. You are making a good choice. Garridan is a fine young man. You are both strong, fighters. Your marriage will be a happy one, you will see. He cherishes you so, you are lucky. Your tea leaves told me you would be bound to your true love by blood, and it is true. Garridan told me what happened at the cabin, he spilled his own blood to protect you.” She cradled Claire’s face in her withered old hands. “Sometimes what we hope will come to pass and what really happens are very different, but it is no matter. You are of Gypsy descent, you belong here with us. It is only natural a woman as strong as a Keeper is paired with a man as strong as Garridan. It is right.”
Claire looked back at her passively with dead eyes. The world held nothing for her anymore. If she could not join Nikoli in his grave at least she could make these people happy. She no longer cared what happened to her.
The women finished their preparations and hurried off to begin sewing Claire’s wedding gown. Renka lifted her hand to examine her engagement ring. She nodded in approval.
“You rest now. Tomorrow is a big day.” She patted Claire’s shoulder affectionately. “I hope I live to see your children, my great-great grandchildren. They will be strong and beautiful, like their parents.” With that she slowly made her way back into her caravan.
With a sigh Claire walked back to Anya’s caravan, once again stopped by multiple Camp members expressing their approval of her impending marriage. When she finally made it back to Anya’s caravan she found Garridan there, waiting for her.
“My bride!” He pulled her into a smothering embrace. Claire put her uninjured arm around him but did not squeeze him back. He didn’t seem to notice. “Tomorrow we will be united, forever. The next time I see you, you will be mine!” He gave Claire an extra squeeze for emphasis. “I will go now, it is not proper for me to see you tonight, you must stay in Anya’s caravan. But tomorrow,” he kissed the top of her head and Claire forced herself not to shrink away from him, “we will be one.”
Garridan released her and held her at arm’s length. Claire’s expression remained wooden. “I see you are nervous about the wedding night, eh?” Garridan chuckled. “I will be gentle with you, my American, you will see. You go rest now, tomorrow night we will be too busy for sleep.” He gave her a lecherous wink. “I will see you at our wedding!” He sauntered off as various men in the Camp gathered around him, slapping his back in boisterous camaraderie.
Claire settled back in to bed and drifted off quickly. Above all else she wished for the next day and night to pass quickly. She could not share in the joy of the Camp about her union to Garridan and just wanted to get it over with.
Chapter 29
Anya woke her up the next morning. She offered her a plate of warm bread and honey. “Eat now. Today is busy. You eat, then you go wash in stream. Later you get wedding dress on.”
Claire sat up and accepted her breakfast. She ate quickly, unable to taste or enjoy the delicious food. She just wanted to get the day over with. When she finished she joined Anya outside.
“This is Yokov,” Anya introduced her to the bearded gentleman, who nodded politely at Claire. “He will bring us to the stream so you can clean up.”
Claire followed Anya and Yokov out of Camp, up the path she had once traveled with Garridan on her first morning there. As they reached the point in the path where they could hear the stream gurgling Yokov stopped with Anya. Anya handed Claire a basket of towels, a bar of soap, and clean clothes.
“You go wash up, I stay here with Yokov. If you yell for me I will hear you, I stay and make sure Yokov doesn’t look.” She said something rapidly to Yokov who nodded and turned his back to the stream. Anya waved Claire on and did the same, giving her privacy to undress and wash up.
Claire traveled upstream a short distance to a pool formed by a small waterfall over some large rocks. She undressed, carefully removing her sling, and eased herself into the pool. It was about waist deep and ice cold. The frigid water stung her all over as she submerged herself completely. The pain was welcome. All Claire had felt since Nikoli’s death was numbness. The pain was a startling change from the bleak nothingness that defined her now.
Tears fell as Claire emerged from under the water. Everything felt pointless to her now. Stavros was gone, the Fang destroyed, and Nikoli along with it. What did it matter if she married a man she despised? Without Nikoli nothing mattered anymore. She cried quietly, standing in the frigid pool, mindful not to make too much noise and alarm Anya or Yokov.
“Dry your tears, brave Keeper,” a voice nearby commanded, startling Claire out of her misery. She hunkered down lower in the pool to hide her exposed body.
On one of the rocks above her sat a graceful blond woman. She was bathed in light, making it hard for Claire to look at her directly.
“Who are you?”
“I am Circe, the long forgotten Goddess of Magic.” Claire gasped. “I know of your deeds, and am grateful you disposed of Stavros for good. I know of your pain over the loss of your Guardian, your love. I know of your plans to marry another, one you do not love.” She regarded Claire regally. “You go on with the plans as they have been laid, Keeper, but remember you have yet to be rewarded by the Gods for your service to us. All is not lost; there will be joy for you yet again.” Before Claire could reply Circe faded away and was gone.
Claire’s mouth hung open in astonishment. Circe, a real Goddess, the one who had helped originally destroy Stavros, had chosen to appear to her, a desperate, broken hearted girl. Claire absentmindedly began washing herself. Circe had told her to go on with the wedding ceremony. She had planned to anyways, but now she wondered what was in store for her in a new life with Garridan. Her mind spun as she tried to decipher the cryptic mention of a reward from the Gods and future joy in her life. She could not imagine ever feeling joy again. But the promise of such from the mouth of a Goddess lifted Claire’s spirits.
She finished cleaning up and dressed in the clean outfit Anya had provided for her. Once she was finished she headed back to the Camp with Anya and Yokov. Back in Anya’s caravan her wedding dress had been laid out for her. She examined it carefully as Anya looked on.
It was a simple pure white dress with a dropped waist that led down to piles of ruffles and long train, beaded with small silver beads. The neckline was modest but bared her shoulders. It buttoned all the way up the back with tiny silver buttons.
“We never have such a fancy dress for wedding here before,” Anya marveled as she looked at the details that went into the dress.
“They must have been up all night, sewing this,” Claire replied. She was touched by the gesture- a lot of women of the Camp had worked very hard to make her this beautiful dress for her wedding.
A portly woman came into the caravan and spoke to Anya. Anya nodded and the woman gestured outside to a few other ladies standing about.
“Come,” Anya patted the stool. “It is time to get ready, wedding is soon.”
Claire sat down and let her mind wander as the caravan filled with the ladies of the Camp. They fussed over her, arranging her hair, applying her makeup, adorning her with jewelry. Claire was cooperative as the women made and remade her, letting her mind wander. What did Circe mean about a reward from the Gods?
Finally the women were satisfied with their results and helped her slip into her dress. For the ceremony they kept her sling off, though her shoulder was still sore from the dislocation. One of the ladies ducked outside and brought back a full-length mirror
to show Claire how she looked. Another woman handed her a bouquet of wild lilies.
Claire studied her reflection in the mirror. She looked gaunt and tired, she lacked the glow of a new bride, but she knew she looked stunning none the less. The dress fit her perfectly, hugging her feminine curves. Her hair was piled up on top of her head with tendrils of curls cascading down here and there, emphasizing her slender neck. She made a glorious bride.
A horn sounded across the Camp. The ladies spoke amongst themselves as they hurriedly gathered up their things. Each one stopped to give Claire a quick hug and a few words of encouragement as they left. She graciously accepted their kind words. She did not care about her wedding, but she appreciated the effort they had made to help her.
“Come, we go now. You are ready?” Anya asked her anxiously. Claire nodded and braced herself for what was to come.
Chapter 30
They walked through the empty Camp, Anya helping to hold up Claire’s long train to keep it clean. The ceremony was to be held just outside the Camp circle, in a section of young birches nearby. Anya explained that Garridan had selected the spot, thinking Claire would enjoy its beauty for their special day.
As they approached the birch grove Claire could see the whole Camp had turned out to witness the union of Garridan and the Keeper. Garridan stood at a make shift alter, his back to them. A man Claire did not know stood before him, ready to perform the ceremony.
Anya stopped and carefully laid out Claire’s train. “You stay back here, when it is time for you to come Garridan will turn around, you walk to him,” she instructed. She hugged Claire tightly and kissed her cheek. “This is what you will do? You are sure- marry Garridan?” She studied Claire seriously.
Claire nodded and managed a smile for her Anya. “Yes, this is what I must do. It’s okay, Anya, everything will be fine,” she said confidently. Anya nodded and left Claire to join the crowd gathered behind Garridan.
Claire stood rooted in place, watching closely for Garridan to turn around. Her heart thudded duly in her chest, her mouth was dry. Of course it wouldn’t all be fine. She despised Garridan, she would never love him. But Renka was right- she was of Gypsy descent and with her family and Nikoli gone, her place was with them. By marrying Garridan she was cementing her place in this society, her new home. She would adjust-somehow.
Lost in her thoughts she did not hear someone approach her from behind.
“I hear there’s a wedding today, and the bride’s not to be missed,” a familiar husky voice said to her.
Claire’s bouquet fell to the ground, forgotten, as she whirled around. There he was, casually leaning against a nearby tree, smiling that tight-lipped smile she knew so well.
‘Nikoli!’ Tears poured unbidden down her cheeks as she rushed to him and threw her arms around him. He held her tight, nuzzling her hair. “How are you-you can’t be-you’re dead.”
Nikoli chuckled. “Well, I guess I was, but not anymore.” He pushed Claire back, looking her up and down. “So what’s with this get up, eh?” He fingered the crown of flowers on her head.
Claire turned scarlet, thoroughly embarrassed. “You were dead,” she whispered.
Nikoli nodded. “I know, lovely, I know. I’m sorry I left you, but it seems I’m back now, in one piece.”
“So you’re not…changed anymore?”
Nikoli kissed her lips softly. “No, my Keeper, that is done with now, I am me again.”
Claire leaned in and stole another kiss from him, this time passionate and forceful.
“Hey now,” Nikoli teased as he pushed her away playfully. “What’s your new husband going to think?!”
“Nikoli, I-” Claire was cut off by a collective gasp from the wedding audience. Turning her head she saw the whole Camp had turned, anticipating her walk to the altar. Many began chanting prayers and crossing themselves when they saw Nikoli.
Claire’s eyes found Garridan. He stood at the altar, turned to face her now in anticipation of their union. His fists were clenched by his side, a grimace of rage on his face. With a loud snarl he strode down the aisle, his eyes never leaving Claire and Nikoli. He broke his stride only to grab a handgun out of the holster of a man he passed. Claire tensed in Nikoli’s arms as Garridan raised the gun as he approached.
Suddenly a flash of light in between them blinded everyone. Claire squinted against the glare. There stood Circe, her yellow curls radiating light as bright as the sun.
“You will leave them be,” she commanded Garridan. She squinted her eyes at him. “You. Hades has business with you soon.” Garridan faltered and lowered the gun, awestruck by the Goddess before him. The crowd fell to its knees as murmurs of disbelief swept through it. Circe turned to Claire and Nikoli.
“Your reward, brave Keeper.” She gestured to Nikoli. “I possess great magic, including the art of necromancy. Nikoli is your love, and you are his. I have returned him to the living, given him back his free will, and cleansed him of the curse he ingested with your blood. You have made the world safe for all again, Stavros is gone, the least I can do for you is reunite you with your love.” Circe smiled gently at Claire.
Claire could not find the words to express her gratitude. “Thank you Circe, I cannot-”
Circe turned in a flash and sparks flew from her graceful fingers. The sparks hit Garridan, who had tried to race around her to shoot Nikoli. He wailed in agony as he began shrinking and transforming before their eyes. Over an agonizing few seconds he went from a strapping young man to a pig.
Claire gasped in wonder, her hand to her mouth in shock.
Circe laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s only temporary. In 3 days’ time he will become human again, until then we are all better off with him as this.” Circe turned to address the Camp.
“Nikoli is back by my hand. He is no longer a threat you, I have removed the curse of the Gypsy blood,” she announced. “This swine,” she gestured to Garridan, “will stay in such form for three days. Keep him safe, keep him fed, and you shall have your Garridan back.” Garridan squealed and fled from Circe to cower behind Anya.
“You go now,” Circe commanded Claire and Nikoli. “You will not be welcome here any longer, I fear. There are two horses saddled for you outside the Camp circle. Ride hard and you may reach safety not too long into the night.” Nikoli nodded and took Claire’s hand to lead her back to Camp.
“Wait!” a voice called. Anya ran to them, careful to keep her distance from Circe. She flung her arms around Claire. “I am happy for you now,” she whispered, tears in her eyes. “I will miss you, my Gypsy sister.”
Nikoli released Claire’s grip as she returned Anya’s strong embrace. “Thank you, Anya. I will miss you too.” She released her friend and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
Anya grinned at Nikoli. “Until we meet again, my friend.” Nikoli smiled and nodded in return.
“One more,” called an abrasive old voice. Renka hobbled over to them as fast as she could. She stood before Claire and patted her cheek softly. “You did well, Keeper. I am sorry you will not stay.” She glared at Nikoli but addressed Claire. “You chose Death and its danger over a safe life here with people to look out for you. You are sure it is what you wish?” Claire nodded seriously. “So be it then.” Renka huffed at the pair before hobbling back to her people.
Nikoli reclaimed Claire’s hand. “Come on, lovely, we’ve got some hard riding to do. Let’s get out of here.” He swept Claire into his arms and carried back towards Camp, to their horses. Claire snuggled into him, inhaling his familiar scent, safe in his arms once again.
Once they reached their steeds Nikoli gently lowered her onto her feet. He took out a large pocket knife and cut off the bottom of her dress, leaving the train in tatters.
“There. You can ride in that,” he proclaimed, admiring her now knee length dress. He boosted her onto her horse. “Are you ready?” Claire nodded. “Good, we ride and we ride hard. If we’re lucky we can make it back to Akos and Firenze’s cottage not too long af
ter dark.” He grinned up at her and kissed her hand. “I love you, my Keeper. It’s so good to be back.”
Claire smiled back at him, full of the joy she feared she’d never feel again. “I love you too, my Guardian, and it’s good to have you back.”
Chapter 31
They rode hard the rest of day, galloping where the trail allowed, trotting where the terrain wouldn’t. They paused briefly to allow the horses drinks at the rivers and streams they crossed, and then saddled up again. When they came to the last river before the cottage, the one where the bandits had attacked them, Nikoli made Claire stay on her mount while he checked the area for danger.
“It’s safe,” he announced as he took back the reins to his horse. Claire dismounted and followed Nikoli to the river bank. He headed in the opposite direction from where the bandit attack took place. Dusk was approaching so they were mindful to keep this break as short as they could.
They stood together as the horses drank their fill. Nikoli slung his arm around Claire and kissed the top of her head. “Lovely,” he murmured. “I am so sorry for what happened at the cabin.” He pulled back and looked right at her, his eyes searching hers. “I had no idea, I never would have fed from you if I had known. I would never intentionally put you in harms’ way.”
Claire gave him a quick peck on the lips. “It’s okay, Nikoli, I know that wasn’t really you. I’m sorry too, for almost marrying Garridan. You were dead, everything had gone wrong, I…I just didn’t care. Renka and Anya wanted me to stay, Garridan wanted me to be his wife….I-”
Nikoli placed a finger to her lips. “I understand, it’s okay. I’m just glad I stopped the wedding in time.”
Claire glanced down at her left hand and removed the ring Garridan had given her. The opal flashed brilliantly in the fading light. She flung it into the river and watched it disappear under the calm waters.
