Gypsy in Black: The Romance of Gypsy Travelers

by Sarah Price

  “Nicolae!” she screamed again, her knees giving out with the weight of the burden. She turned to the rest of the people who were slowly gathering around her. “Save him! You must save him! Save my baby!” But no one moved forward. They watched her. They watched the flames. Their eyes were wide with disbelief and fear. When Sahara knew that all was lost and no one would try to save Nicolae or Lea, she collapsed, the life seeping from her body as she watched her life burn away. It was impossible, she thought. And she wept, the tears flowing from her eyes and blinding her vision.

  The people crowded around, staring at the burning tent before turning their gaze to Emilian. He tried his best to force Sahara to stand but she was sobbing at his feet, her legs refusing to support her weight. Finally, he let her lie on the grass and he turned to face the people. “The Rom Baro is gone!” he shouted. “As he abandoned you in life, he is abandoning you by death!” The crowd grew and remained silent. They stared at him, their faces blank with disbelief. “I am your Rom Baro now!” Emilian shouted. “You will join the rest of us or stay here to die with no food, no supplies, and no leader.”

  Sahara was in shock. Nothing made sense. Just an hour ago, she had been in Nicolae’s arms. Just an hour ago, their future was laid out. Now, she couldn’t comprehend the world around her. The sight of the fire, the sound of the blaze, the smell of the smoke. It wasn’t real. She tried to shake her head, to wake from the nightmare. Wake up, she told herself. Wake up and get the baby, she screamed inside of her head. But reality loomed around her and she knew that she was not asleep.

  She felt his hands on her shoulders, trying to guide her back to her feet. “S’hara, you must come now. You will feel better in the morning,” he said softly.

  Sahara repeated the words in her head. Better in the morning? And she knew. She knew that everything Nicolae had told her was true. He was dangerous. He was uncaring and unkind. His soul was a dead as he had been to the people. But somehow, he had re-emerged, a rebirth of sorts, to take over the minds of a few when Nicolae had been looking the other way. He had, indeed, risen from the dead and was now attempting to lead the people away.

  “No,” she whispered.

  “S’hara?”

  She raised her eyes to look at him. “I said no. I will die here with Nicolae and Lea. I will never go with you.”

  She felt him jerk her to her feet, his hand clasped tightly around her arm. She struggled to pull away but he was stronger than her. He began to drag her toward the waiting caravan. As best as she could, she mustered the strength to fight back. She would not go with this man, she vowed to herself. She would stay with her husband and baby. She would will herself to die here for she had nothing left to live.

  “Emilian!” a voice called out from behind them. “Let go of my wife!”

  Nicolae stood behind them. He was dirty and full of soot from smoke. His white shirt was soiled. His eyes never left Emilian’s face, not once looking at Sahara. She cried out loud and lunged forward, trying to go to him. Emilian jerked her back toward him, never loosening his hold. Nicolae did not react. Instead, he continued to ignore her. He was focused on one thing: ending the war between he and his brother at last.

  “It is impossible!” Emilian hissed.

  “Yes, if I had been in the tent when you started the fire, it would have been impossible to survive!” Nicolae replied, his voice calm and even. He took a step forward. “But I was awoken by S’hara leaving and heard you behind the tent. You always were bad at hiding your tracks from your crimes, Emilian.” He reached behind his back, his hand hidden from sight. “Now, I tell you for the last time…let go of my wife.” He stretched out his free hand, his eyes still on Emilian as he said, “S’hara, come to me now.”

  She tried to move away, tears clouding her vision. Everything felt surreal and she sobbed. “Lea?”

  “S’hara, Duda has Lea. She needs you to tend to our baby,” he said without emotion. But Emilian pulled Sahara closer to him, using her as a shield. “Emilian, one of us will not leave this fight alive. There is no reason to harm Sahara, yes?”

  Emilian hesitated. The battle had been coming for years, true. But if he released Sahara, he knew that he no longer had the upper hand. Indeed, by Nicolae surviving, he had lost a key point in the battle. The wagons that awaited him, eager to retreat toward the north, had already backtracked. Many of those families were now gathering, watching the results of the decade-long battle between brothers. Those who had chosen to align themselves with Nicolae were already crowded around, knowing better than to jump to their leader’s defense but terrified of what might happen should he lose.

  “She will live, Nicolae,” Emilian finally said. “But she will live as my wife, not yours.”

  “You gave her to me, years ago!” Nicolae took a step forward, cautious and slow. “You were so eager to wed that you didn’t want to wait for an infant to grow into your bride.”

  “You lie!”

  “You chased them away, both Amaya and S’hara.” Nicolae continued his advance. “It was you, Emilian. You broke our father’s heart and then, with S’hara gone, no one else would marry you because she was still alive. So you had to take my own bride on our wedding night.”

  Sahara’s eyes widened, her heart racing in her chest. She tried to surge forward but Emilian’s grip with too tight. “Let me go, Emilian,” she sobbed. “Please…”

  “You took my bride, you soiled her with your seed, and she died,” Nicolae continued. “And then you were mahrimed.”

  “It was not my child!”

  “You raped her on her wedding night. She died as a result. You forfeited your rights to a wife and to being Rom Baro, Emilian,” Nicolae said. “You cannot regain what you have lost.”

  “It’s a lie,” he hissed, his eyes large and wild. “It was your lie that caused my mahrime!” But the trepidation in his voice gave away the truth.

  “S’hara,” Nicolae commanded. “You must go to our daughter now.”

  A cry escaped her throat. Emilian refused to release his hold on her. She tried to turn around, seeking his face for mercy. “Please Emilian, let me go to my daughter,” she cried. “She needs me.”

  Emilian hesitated. “If I let you go, S’hara, you’ll never come back,” he whispered.

  “I will come back,” she replied, her voice just as soft and tears streaming down her face. “Just let me go to my daughter. Without her, I will die,” she said. She saw a flicker of compassion on his face and she seized the moment. She reached out and touched his face, diverting his eyes from Nicolae to her own face. “Without her, you cannot have me. I will kiss you as my promise.” She shut her eyes and raised her face toward him.

  For a moment, she held her breath but then, as she had hoped, he lowered his lips onto hers, the embrace of a lifetime, one that he had waited for and the one that she had dreaded. But in that moment, that solitary moment, he let his guard down and, as she had hoped, Sahara heard Nicolae move. It was his moment, perhaps the only one that he would get to have the upper hand. Nicolae lunged forward, shoving Sahara out of the way and the battle began. Sahara found herself in the dirt, her back to the two men. A pain shot through her ankle and she cried out as she tried to roll over, tried to see what was happening behind her. But, before she could sit up or even try to stand, she felt hands on her arms and someone was dragging her away. “No!” she screamed, struggling until she realized that they were dragging her to safety.

  The men were fighting. She could hear that much. But, in the darkness, she could barely make out what was happening. The crowd of gypsies expanded, allowing the men to finish their business. Years of pent up resentment and anger were unleashed as the men fought. Sahara cried softly, thankful for the arms around her shoulders. She clung to Duda who held her, letting the tears fall freely from her eyes. Over Duda’s shoulder, she could see that Finny held Lea who, miraculously, slept in the woman’s arms, unaware of the commotion around her. The relief of seeing her child alive and unharmed brought a ne
w wave of sobs. It was surreal and she was having difficulty comprehending everything that was happening around her.

  The sky was beginning to lighten as night turned to early morning dusk, the sky painted the softest of blues, a sharp contrast with the black hours of darkness. Nicolae continued to struggle with Emilian but he lost his footing and fell to the ground. The crowd gasped and Sahara cried out, her eyes wild as she beseeched the people, “Help him! Please!” But no one made a move toward the opening. The gypsies knew that the fight had to be between the two men. Intervention was not an option.

  Nicolae struggled to regain his footing. Immediately, Emilian was on top of him, reaching for a nearby rock. He lifted it above his head, ready to drop it and end the decade old battle. But his movement was too slow and Nicolae rolled to the side, escaping the blow and a sure death. He reached out his hand, grasping at the ground as if seeking something. He struggled, dodging the blows from Emilian while looking for something, anything to help him win the battle. Sahara strained to see what he sought but, between the darkness and her tears, she could not.

  And then, with a loud crack, it was over.

  Emilian was still, too still. Nicolae scrambled to his feet, his hand holding a long object. He watched, catching his breath as Emilian slowly fell to the side. His eyes dulled and a red stain spread across the side of his face. The crowd lingered, watching and waiting. In the silence of the early morning, life flowed from Emilian, a retreat into the ether while the people watched. Nicolae shut his eyes and dropped the object in his hand. It landed with a thud in the dirt. An iron rod used for cooking. No one spoke, breathless in anticipation. Their Rom Baro had won but, especially for those who had planned a desertion, they awaited his reaction.

  When he opened his eyes, he looked away from the body of his brother and sought the crowd for his wife. He found her, sobbing against Duda. “S’hara,” he said as he walked toward her. She flung herself into his arms, crying and clinging to him. “It’s over,” he whispered into her hair, his arms holding her as tight as possible. “It’s finally over.” He looked over her head at the faces of the people staring at him. In the background, he could still see the smoldering flames from what had been their tent. The air was still thick with the smell of smoke and burning canvas. It was unpleasant and clung to his clothing as well as hers. It brought him back to the present. He kissed the top of her head then pulled away, staring at the people around him.

  “Many of you questioned me, yes?” His voice was loud and stern. “Many of you wondered about my loyalty to you…to my kumpania. This man found your weakness and used your doubt to create a wedge…a wedge between all of us. But it is over now. For those of you who had wished to leave, you have a decision to make.” Nicolae paused, letting his words sink in before he continued. “You may continue on your own or you may rejoin the kumpania under the leadership of your Rom Baro. No questions will be asked. But,” he held his hand up against the relieved murmurs from the crowd. When they quieted, he continued. “We must vow to stand united and never let any individual threaten the kumpania. Together, we are strong. Divided we are like sticks, fragile and apt to break.”

  He walked around the circle, meeting the eyes of the people, taking the time to stare deep into their souls in the silence of the morning. A dog barked in the distance and birds were beginning to greet the morning with a symphony of songs. “Today is a new day. A new beginning,” he continued. “There will never be any more doubt about the true leadership of this kumpania. For those who doubted, remember this day. Remember the past for by forgetting to do so is what brought us here today.” His eyes fell back onto Sahara. Her tears had subsided and her breathing was more even. “Now, I must tend to my family while you tend to yours. I ask you to get busy and give me some time now.”

  The crowd dispersed. No one was certain what to do but they did not question Nicolae. Those who had previously intended to leave retreated to their packed wagons while the others gathered near the tents, wondering whether they would still leave on this day. Ignoring the other people, Nicolae motioned to two of the men and spoke softly, nodding toward Emilian. Sahara couldn’t hear what he said but she knew that it had to do with a burial. Despite everything that had happened, Nicolae would honor his family by requesting a proper burial for his brother.

  He turned his attention back to Sahara. Together, they walked back to what had been their home. There was nothing left. Sahara clung to Nicolae, the tears threatening to resurface but she fought hard to remain strong. Nicolae had his arm around her shoulders, her head resting against him. He took a deep breath before he spoke. “It will be fine, S’hara. There is nothing lost that cannot be replaced.”

  “I thought you were gone,” she whispered.

  “I heard you leave, S’hara and then there was someone outside the tent. I don’t know why I took the baby with me to investigate. O Del was watching over us,” he replied.

  “What do we do now?” she asked.

  He turned her away from the remains of the tent and walked toward the wagon that used to be his father’s. “We continue moving on, S’hara. This changes nothing. Without Emilian, we have less to worry over, yes? He cannot create trouble anymore…raise doubts,” Nicolae responded. When he saw her looking at him, questioning him with her silence, he took a deep breath. “S’hara, there is much you do not know. It was Emilian who chased Amaya away. She was to wed my father but Emilian did not want her here, nor did he want to marry you. He threatened you and your mother. She was protecting you from him and now I have done the same, yes? He will bother you no more, my bori.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “If he didn’t want to marry me, why did he still want me?”

  “With you alive, he could not marry another. You were betrothed to him, yes? Only through death could he marry another.” They stood outside of the wagon in the shadow of the morning sun, which finally was peeking over the horizon. “Then when he lost my father’s faith and respect, he lost the right to lead these people. In order to gain that back, he needed to marry you…and that was only possible through my death.”

  “And now he is gone,” she said softly.

  “He always was, S’hara.” Nicolae took a deep breath and looked around at the activity of the camp. “It is time, S’hara. Time for us to move on at last. I do not want to dwell of this day anymore.” He forced a smile. “You must find Lea and tend to our daughter while I oversee the kumpania. We will go north once again,” he declared. “There are towns to visit, horses to trade, fairs to work.” He leaned down one last time, kissing her tenderly before whispering, “Go to our daughter, S’hara.”

  The women were silent as they worked, making breakfast for the men and children. When Sahara approached them, Duda was quick to point toward Finny’s wagon, indicating that Lea slept there with Finny’s own baby. The women watched Sahara, their eyes wide and bright. They were waiting for her to say something, anything. As Nicolae was leading the men, the women anticipated Sahara to lead them. But there were no words to say. So, rather than speak, she rolled up her sleeves and went to work alongside the women. It was the expected response and she knew that the day would be long. There would be time to dance later when they camped in the days and weeks ahead. In the meantime, she knew that life would go on…her life with the gypsies would take her many miles and her love for Nicolae would never be challenged again.

   

  Nicolae watched the women dancing around the fires. His wife had died during the last travel season. Her childbirth had been too much for her to bear…or perhaps it was the stigma of knowing that she was damaged goods. Emilian had ensured that her marriage to Nicolae would never progress past the ceremony. The rest of the kumpania knew what had happened; the Rom Baro insured that all knew the reasons why. Emilian was mahrimed but he continued to follow the shadows of the traveling caravan. The Rom Baro did not have the heart to banish him for good.

  Nicolae commented on the women’s beauty, knowing th
at his own time for re-marriage was near. He was a man now and he felt the stirring of desire in his loins.

  “Aye, but not as beautiful as Amaya,” the one man said.

  “And her daughter,” another man said. The man proceeded to tell Nicolae about how he had seen the Irishman and the girl. Nicolae leaned forward, listening to their words and trying to elicit more information than they actually knew. But the seed was planted. He knew the one way to finally get rid of his brother was to find his bride. By marrying the daughter of Amaya, Nicolae would be able to lead the kumpania and force the hand of his brother to finally act in such a way that Emilian would be banished forever. Emilian would no longer be a thorn in Nicolae’s side and the challenge to his leadership would be gone forever.

  When he approached his father in the morning, his eyes glowed and he smiled. “Father, I have good news…news of my betrothed…news of the girl, Sahara…”