Return to Paradise (Torres Family Saga)

by Shirl Henke

  While the brothers plotted, the subject of their fulmi-nation wended his way on foot toward the banks of a sizeable pool of water. “Why in the hell do the stupid fools not camp beside this lovely spot instead of hauling water through the woods for cooking?” Benjamin grumbled. Little enough water was needed since they certainly did not use it for bathing.

  “I will go mad with itching if I cannot bathe,” he muttered, looking about the small wooded bank of the pool. He had watched the men bring stock here and water it a few minutes ago, then depart. No one seemed to be about. He had left Rani playing with her wolf near Agata's tent. After a swift search of the area, he stripped off his clothes, wrinkling his nose at their sweaty, bloodstained condition. “I must smell as vile as the caraque. Well, not quite.”

  He carried his hose and tunic to the water's edge and submerged them, then began to scrub with a small piece of soap he had taken from his bag. Ruefully he wondered how his sisters would react to seeing their elder brother act the part of a washerwoman. “God's balls, I am homesick!” Could he ever return to Española now that Miriam and Rigo lived there?

  “First things first. I must find a way to steal back Averroes and escape the delightful hospitality of my hosts.” He wrung out his tattered shirt and hose, then spread his clothes on several rocks to dry in the warm sun. After wading in a few yards, Benjamin was delighted to find that the pool's bottom fell away sharply and he could swim. He sudsed up his hair and body, then tossed the soap onto the bank, all the while idly wondering what Rani Janos would look like with the layers of grime washed away. He dismissed the thought and dove beneath the water to rinse off.

  The subject of his thoughts stepped onto the bank just as Benjamin vanished beneath the surface of the water. She let out a shriek of alarm and frantically searched for some means of rescuing him. What madness had led him to fall into the water? “Let you away from my sight for a few moments and you are ready to drown!”

  She pulled her sharp dagger from its sheath and began frantically hacking at a half rotten tree branch overhanging the pool. If she could just break it the rest of the way loose, it might reach Benjamin and she could pull him from the water when he bobbed up again—if he came up again.

  Benjamin surfaced and took a long, swift stroke through the water before he heard Rani's cry. “Hold on! I have a tree limb. Tis rotten but I think it will work. Here, catch on to it,” she grunted as she flung the heavy dead wood with its scratchy dried clusters of leaves in Benjamin's direction.

  Before he could duck the limb hit him broadside with enough impact to drive him once more beneath the water. Scratched, bruised and winded, he broke the surface a few feet away, only to fall victim to the flailing tree limb once again.

  “Hold on to it, you dumb gadjo!” Rani shrieked, tottering precariously at the water's edge.

  Benjamin swore as the scratchy oak leaves abraded his wounded shoulder. “Get that damned tree away from me! Can a man not take a swim without being clubbed insensate?”

  “You will drown! Grab on to the limb.”

  Rather than argue with the hysterical girl and risk being knocked unconscious so that he would indeed drown, Benjamin seized the limb with both hands and gave a fierce yank. He had hoped to pull the weapon from her hands, but blind terror lent Rani strength. Instead of releasing the limb, she hung on and followed it headlong into the water, kicking and screaming.

  The weight of the heavy end of the limb pulled the frantic girl under. Benjamin tried to dodge the leafy end, which was still splashing about the surface of the water like a crazed crocodile in a death frenzy. He finally dove deeply and swam around the deadly disturbance. The girl had stirred up so much mud from the floor of the pond he could see nothing as he groped for her. Finally he touched one small arm and held on to it, then began to pry her fingers free from the limb. Once she was disarmed, he still had no easy task getting her to the surface.

  For such a tiny thing, Rani was amazingly strong, with sharper nails and teeth than her pet wolf. He subdued her only after she had inflicted several deep scratches on his hands and arms. As he held her fast and pushed up to the surface she sank her teeth into his shoulder. He broke the water and let out a snarling oath, then flung the sodden girl into the shallows, where she landed panting and dazed.

  Her hair was plastered like a wool cloak across her face and her long ruffled skirts were twisted and clumped between her thighs. Rani struggled to breathe. Ah, sweet air, more air! She reached up and clawed her hair from her eyes as she turned to search for Benjamin. Surely he must be dead. She let out a sob that changed to a gasp of shock when she saw him out in the middle of the pool, magically holding his upper body above the deep water and scowling furiously at her. “You—you are not dead?” she choked.

  “No, by the twenty-four balls of the twelve apostles, but you soon will be! What the hell were you doing? If you wanted to murder me you should have let Django do it quickly that first night by the fire.”

  “I was trying to save your life,” she replied in affront. Her voice was laced with equal amounts of bewilderment and horror as she watched him glide through the water. “How came you to fall in?” she asked as she scurried onto the dry bank and began to wring out her skirts. The dyes faded onto her hands and arms in a rainbow of colors. She flung her hair back from her face and it landed with a loud plop against her back. Oh, misery!

  “I did not fall in. I jumped in quite voluntarily to bathe and swim, two pastimes you would do well to cultivate.”

  The gold-coin eyes grew even larger in that small, mud-streaked face as she stared incredulously at him. “I have heard some gadje actually wash their bodies.” She shuddered at the thought. “Dogs and horses and other wild animals swim when they must, but I never saw a man so foolish as to do it of his own free will! The Rom never go near water. Tis bad luck.”

  He eyed her critically and said, “Then you must have led an incredibly lucky life up until now.”

  Rani felt utterly humiliated. How dare this stupid gadjo insult her! “I risked my life to save you, you ungrateful wretch!” She shivered in spite of the noon heat, then struggled to her feet and flounced off, leaving a trail of dye-stained water on the sandy bank.

  After sneaking into her wagon, Rani began to change into dry clothes. She considered the strange habits of the physician and wondered if both she and Agata had been mistaken about her fate being joined to his. Then she heard Rasvan's voice as he neared their wagon, obviously in conversation with someone.

  “I am glad tis settled. Three of your father's best horses, the red rug from Turkey and twenty gold pieces. Django will choose the horses when he is able, but I will look over Sandor's herd and recommend the ones that are most fleet.”

  “You ask a very dear bride price for Rani. I am surprised my father agreed to it,” Michel said.

  Rani froze when she overheard the voivode's son. How she hated the sound of his petulant voice. Wed her! She shuddered, thinking of his rotted teeth and scruffy boy's body with its pale, hairless chest. Then Rasvan's next words caused her heart to skip a beat.

  “Soon we must kill the gadjo. ”

  “I do not like this. If my father found out—”

  “Django has planned it all. While he and I are feasting at the campfire, we will pretend to get very drunk. His woman will help him to bed and you will drag me beneath my wagon. Then, while everyone is asleep we will crush the physician's skull with a club and carry him off into the woods and bury him. If we steal a horse and tie it many miles from here, everyone will believe he has escaped.”

  “But Rani's wolf guards him.” Michel sounded dubious.

  “I have long wanted to rid myself of that accursed beast. It has the Evil Eye and will hex us all one day. Django purchased poison while we were at the fair. Vero will feast his last the night the moon wanes.”

  Quickly, lest they discover her, Rani slipped out the other end of the wagon and ran in search of Agata.

  Vero, who had been away from camp h
unting, came trotting up to Agata's cookfire just as Rani slipped into the phuri dai's tent.

  “Rasvan and Michel are going to poison Vero and then kill Benjamin in but two days! What are we to do?” she whispered, shivering with fright.

  “By the dark of the moon,” Agata murmured, plucking at the hair on her chin. “Do not fear for Vero. He will eat none of Django's poison. As to your golden man...” She eyed Rani speculatively.

  Under her scrutiny the girl felt her cheeks flame. “He is not my man. In fact, he is impossible to understand. He nearly drowned us both this afternoon—bathing in the pool where we water the livestock!”

  The phuri dai chuckled. “You will have to learn some new ways in order to survive in the world of the gadje. ”

  “Bathing?” In truth that thought frightened her nearly as much as did Rasvan and Django.

  Agata shrugged, then said, “I shall ponder what to do. We have yet two days before your brothers will act.” Perhaps you will yourself provide me with the solution to the problem...

  * * * *

  Michel formally brought the bride price to Django that night while the wily old Sandor beamed proudly at his display of wealth. Rani Janos was well worth it, for she was Agata's choice to be the next phuri dai. Sandor was not deceived where his son was concerned. Michel was weak. The boy needed a strong, clever woman to guide him.

  Rani watched Django and Michel seal the bargain binding her in a loathsome alliance. I will never lay with him. The very thought of giving her virginity to the skinny, nasty-tempered boy made her ill. Then, sensing the voivode's eyes on her, she swept her thick black lashes down, veiling her look of repugnance.

  Benjamin stood near the edge of the gathering listening to the exchange in their strange foreign tongue. Django was obviously betrothing Rani to the chief's son and the girl was just as obviously displeased by the transaction. He studied her elfin face and slender body, once again curious about how she might look if properly bathed and dressed—or undressed. Grinning ruefully to himself, he muttered low, “God's bones, I have been too long without a woman to ever think such a thing. I must escape, and that right quickly!”

  After scouting the campgrounds as much as he could without raising suspicion, Benjamin was unable to find where the accursed Janos brothers had hidden Averroes. Perhaps Rani knew the horse's location. Dare he ask her? He decided that if he did not find Averroes by tomorrow night he would risk it. He thought of the rusty stew pot filled with hedgehogs, squirrels and other delicacies that the caraque ate with grimy fingers. “I must escape soon else I will die of the plague—or starvation!”

  He passed several campfires where men, women and children squatted about their crude iron cookpots, devouring their evening meal with relish. Bones and bits of meat were tossed to dogs that waited eagerly. One small child busily wrestled a hunk of meat from the family pet, then shoved it in his mouth, mud, dog saliva and all.

  Benjamin feasted on a chunk of cheese and more of the stale black bread, washed down with some wine. At least he had been able to wash the knife and cup before using them. As he was finishing up, Rani reappeared at Agata's fire. “So this is where you disappeared. There is a feast at the central campfire. Why do you keep to yourself?”

  “Perhaps I pine for your hand, which is already pledged in marriage,” he said sarcastically, then wished instantly to call back the words. Her small face looked crestfallen yet defiantly proud at the same time. “Forgive me, Rani. I know you do not favor Michel, but he seems a harmless boy. A woman of your formidable talents could surely bend him to your will.”

  “I do not wish to wed a harmless boy. I will have a man to husband.” Her golden eyes appraised him boldly as she had seen some of the older women do.

  Benjamin knew the situation was quickly getting out of hand. “Pray excuse me, Rani, but after nearly drowning during my untimely rescue this morning, I grow quite weary. I would sleep. Why do you not rejoin the festivities? Tis your party.”

  Giving him a sultry look, she swished her skirts, letting the small golden bells about her slim ankles tinkle like soft chimes. “Sleep well, Benjamin.” She vanished into the night with Vero silently shadowing her.

  Benjamin searched out a place to sleep in Sandor's tent, which was large and cluttered with many separate chambers. Agata had assigned the wretched quarters to him. He pulled the heavy woolen curtain closed and then sat down. To ward off the night chill he pulled the least musty and fetid of the blankets about him. The interior was dimly lit by one low candle. Ugh! What a sty, and cold in the bargain. At least the ground was grassy and soft. Soon he slept soundly, oddly comforted by the knowledge that Vero stood guard somewhere out there in the darkness.

  The dream was amazingly vivid. A woman's small, soft hands were deftly caressing his body, exploring every inch of him from the hair on his chest down to his legs, then back up, pausing at the lacings of his hose where his shaft strained to get free. God, how he ached for her, this creature of the darkness. What did she look like? Who was she? Where in hell was he?

  Then the smell of garlic assaulted his nostrils as she bent closer and kissed him. “Rani?” He sat bolt upright, shoving her busy little fingers away from his hose and the obvious proof of how long he had been without a woman.

  Rani put her arms about his neck, reveling in the hard evidence of his desire. Twill work! Once he takes my maidenhead, he must wed me. She molded her small body to his and renewed the kiss, brushing her bare breasts against his warm furry chest. A tingling ache touched the points of her nipples, then spread in waves lower in her body. It was glorious. He was glorious.

  Benjamin pried her hands from his neck and peeled her away from his body. He could still feel the tantalizing brush of her small, delicate breasts against his chest. “God's bones, girl, you are scarce betrothed to one man and you climb into another's bed the same night,” he hissed. “Do you want me put to death by old Sandor himself?”

  “Sandor will not kill you and Michel is too puny to win a fight with you.” Rani had hoped his natural instincts would take over while he was asleep and she could entice him to do the deed before he truly awakened and realized what was happening. Her plan was failing miserably.

  “I do not wish to fight over you or any other woman, ever again,” he said tightly.

  But Rani was desperate, imagining Michel's clammy hands on her body. She threw herself at him in the darkness, pressing her naked flesh against his body, feverishly writhing as she tugged at his hose lacings. Never having done this before, Rani was not certain how to proceed, but she knew the way animals mated and surmised it must be little different for humans. Certainly the hard staff beneath Benjamin's breeches left little doubt of his body's response. If only the night had not turned so unseasonably chill, perhaps he would have slept unclothed, making her task far easier.

  Benjamin could feel her gracefully curved legs entwined with his. When her hands again found the lacings of his hose, he grew desperate, imagining her smelly brown body seducing him to ruin. It would be so easy to give in to her wiles. Lord knew he had been celibate far too long. Then her tangled ebony locks flew across his face. The odor of unwashed hair and reek of garlic killed the insane instincts of his body. He gasped for breath, shoving her away. “Rani, no, damn me, no!”

  Rolling away from her, he quickly scrambled about in the darkness, searching for the flap of the tent, yanking it open to allow bright moonlight and blessed fresh air to pour in.

  Rani froze in the chill light, sitting on her heels with her arms crossed protectively over her breasts. Benjamin's eyes widened as he looked at her. “You are mother naked!” He scooped up the pile of gaudy clothes she had shed by the opening of the tent and threw them at her. “Get dressed at once before you catch your death from chill and I catch mine from Sandor's blade!”

  Tears filled her eyes and she blinked against them with thick black lashes as she clutched the bundle of clothing in a death grip. Without a word she scrambled to her feet and fled past him i
nto the night, trailing brightly colored scarves and skirts as she ran into the woods. Vero trotted quietly behind her.

  Benjamin swore furiously as he watched her vanish in the darkness of the trees. There would be hell to pay for this escapade. If anyone saw her running naked and in tears from him, his fate was sealed. Rani's reaction was uncertain as well. Once rejected, might she run to her brothers or the chief with fantastical lies?

  Pulling on his boots and arming himself with his knife, he gathered his medical satchel and what few other possessions his captors had left him. He would locate Averroes or steal one of their horses, anything to escape. Last night the south side of the encampment had yielded only bears, oxen and dogs. The horses must be penned to the north. Cursing the bright moon at the end of its fullest phase, he headed north through the woods that surrounded the tents and wagons.

  While Benjamin slowly made his search, Rani sat composing herself. Rubbing her fists into her eyes, she willed the humiliating tears to cease. As she calmed, the cold night air made her shiver. Sharp twigs and scratchy dry leaves dug into her tender buttocks. Wincing, she sat up and began to put on her clothes. “I shall go to Agata, Vero, and ask her for a love philter.” The wolf observed her with quizzical eyes that glowed in the dark. “Do not look at me so. Perhaps she will help. Tis the only chance I have left.”

  When Rani found Agata, the old crone was wide awake in spite of the late hour, as if expecting her visitor. She sat before a small fire in front of her tent and bid the girl to join her with an abrupt nod of her head. “You should be in bed,” she stated matter of factly, noting the girl's tear-streaked face and half-fastened clothing. “Someone will find your other skirts in the morning,” she said as she poked the low-burning coals.