He’d thought about a search party while waiting for the sun to set shut up in his room brooding. Had wished in fact that he could just simply send out his army to track them down and be done with the entire matter. That way, he could stay with Alliana while his men dragged the woman back here. The problem with that was, he didn’t want her injured, and he wanted things done as smoothly as possible. The woman, Natalya, was bound to tell Alliana everything that had transpired during her taking, and Mikhal didn’t wish for Alliana to become any angrier with him for kidnapping the Gypsy wench than she already was going to be. No, the situation would have to be handled delicately, and that meant him going alone.
Minions were feebleminded. If a group not led by him found Alliana’s clan first, things could get out of control. The men would most likely be hungry, and a band of Gypsies would present the perfect opportunity for a delicious slaughter. They would drink first, and realize their stupidity for what it was after their bellies were full. It was possible that Natalya could be killed during the mayhem as well. No, he had to do this himself.
Alone he could bargain without causing too much terror. Alone he would not have to worry about minions whose idiocy got the best of them; alone he could concentrate on the most faint of ties that joined him with Alliana’s kin. Alone he could accomplish his task with haste and return to Alliana’s side.
All of this had been decided in the hours since Thalia had told him about Natalya, and now here he was, poised to take a journey that could very well bring his wife back to him. The thought had even crossed his mind that if he were kind to the girl, gentlemanly even, she could be an advocate for him where Alliana was concerned. Perhaps, if he managed to win this Natalya over, then the woman would convince Alliana he wasn’t an unfeeling evil beast after all. Anything was worth a try. Anything to make the feelings his mere presence stirred up in his wife disappear.
Mikhal tilted his head back and allowed his demon to come forth, nostrils flared, as he scented the air, determination making his already frightening features harder. “Where are you?” The question stirred his mind as he closed his eyes, sniffing, breathing deeply, feeling for the bond, shutting out the world as he honed in on that which tied him to Alliana’s clan.
Blood, it ran through all of them, and bound her maman and papa to him as surely as it bound Alliana to his side. Not in the same way, hardly, but it was still there. Finally, just a tingle, the smallest of feelings came to him as if in a whisper inside his brain. It tingled at the back of his skull and urged him south. He followed his instincts and obeyed the sensation, turning his horse’s head and lightly kicking its sides. This would be a slow journey, one done at a pace he would normally find intolerable, but he had to move slowly, had to be sure he didn’t sever the tiny strand that joined him with his wife’s kin.
In full darkness now, the Master of the castle went forth into the night, in search of the woman who would mend the broken heart of his wife. Mikhal the Merciless was on a quest, and no one was going to turn him from it. He would succeed, and everything would be, as it should once again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
During his pursuit, Alliana’s clan proved to be very elusive, much to Mikhal’s dismay. It wasn’t that he couldn’t sense them, he did, very much so, it was that they moved almost constantly. His wife’s people were wanderers, vagabonds always in search of firewood and the security of seclusion during the harsh winter months, and it made catching them difficult.
The food they had been given in the trade for their Golden Child was filling their bellies throughout the frigid days and nights, but it didn’t stop their need for constant travel because of the incessant persecution they received. Still, the food was a blessing. It had been a long while since every man, woman, and child in the clan had gone to bed with a full stomach every single night. That very same food would have turned sour where it sat, and the icy cold they felt cutting through their thin clothing would have wrapped itself around their hearts however, if they had known that the very essence of evil who had stolen away the hope of their clan was at that very moment tracking their every move.
Mikhal had been close, oh so close, time and again, but the constant movement of Alliana’s people had kept them from him. Each time he was almost to their campsite, his nostrils filled with their scent, his blood singing, he would have to stop and seek shelter from the killing rays of the sun that would soon rise, and as soon as that same sun had risen, more often than not, Alliana’s clan would pack their meager possessions and continue on in their journey for comfort, warmth, and safety.
Now it was evening once again and Mikhal was just rising in a nearby inn, following the timid knock by the chambermaid upon his door. He’d found the place in the wee hours just before dawn, and pounded upon the door until the innkeeper had woken and allowed him to enter, flashing enough silver at the man to loosen his tongue and soften his disposition.
Before he’d gone to bed for the day in the tightly shuttered room, Mikhal had learned that a clan of Gypsies had indeed passed through the village just before dusk the day before, trying to trade their wares for a few furs or blankets, and he was now ready to finally accomplish the task that he had set forth to do close to a month ago.
He could feel them keenly. The blood tie that bound them pulsed inside him as his anticipation built. What would this Natalya be like he wondered? He’d thought about her during the long nights as he’d scoured the countryside for her clan, picturing many sorts of women, hoping she wouldn’t prove to be too unpleasant.
He imagined she would have some of the fire that his own Alliana once had. It wouldn’t be like his wife to befriend some simpering ninny. Would she be wed? She most likely would. Gypsy girls were married at a very tender age. Alliana had been an oddity because of the legend that surrounded her, and Mikhal fully intended to find out more about that particular subject as well.
He had realized during his travels that he really knew nothing about the magickal gifts that were to be bestowed upon his wife when she came of age. For that matter, he didn’t even know when her eighteenth birthday was. The subject hadn’t really come up before they were wed, and since the night of their wedding, Alliana had been ill off and on, so Mikhal had let the subject go, deciding it could wait. Now however, time was beginning to pass, and a dangerous situation could occur if his wife were to receive her gifts and he wasn’t aware of it.
It was yet another reason he had to keep her under his thumb. Not crushed or beaten down mind you, just under a watchful eye near the castle. The one who had her at his side would benefit from the power and riches that would come her way because of who she was, and he, Mikhal the Merciless, was that person. Alliana was his wife, bound to him by blood, and by law, and he wasn’t about to let her go.
Yes he would keep her safe and secure and under a watchful eye and she would become his caring wife after he brought her friend Natalya home to soothe her aching heart and soul. They would be happy in their life with their son, and over time, Alliana would come to want to be with him, and all this unpleasantness and the ill feelings she harbored for him would fade away.
Keeping this one goal in mind, Mikhal left his room on silent feet and made his way to the stables. He watched without a word as the young man who labored there saddled his horse, then, when the task was finished, Mikhal allowed his demon to emerge and pulled the stunned man close, sinking his fangs into the pulsing artery in his neck, and drinking deeply of his life’s blood until the man lay limp in his arms. Satisfied, his belly full, Mikhal cast him aside and mounted up, clicking softly to his horse, and riding off into the darkness, sure that this would be the night he would find Alliana’s elusive clan.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
It had been almost two months since Alliana had been taken from them, and still Natalya grieved for her friend. She struggled along with the rest of her clan to make due during the harsh winter, relentlessly keeping the fire tended, helping to dig the wagons out of the muck and snow when they sank in the r
uts in the road when necessary, cooking the food that had that made her stomach churn because it had been the price for the girl whom was so dear to her heart. Nothing brought her joy any longer, the dancing, the fiddles, Alliana’s godmother’s continued magick lessons, nothing. The tasks that filled her days were done automatically, simply to keep her and her husband alive. Sorrow filled her eyes and a grim line had replaced the smile that had always lit her face these days, causing those around her to shake their heads silently, and her husband to look at her with reproach.
The thought of him, Danior, her loving husband, made Natalya wince. Theirs had been a troubled marriage these past months and she knew it was because of her continued sadness. At first he had been understanding. The loss of Alliana had been a huge loss for their clan as well, and he knew how close she and Alliana had been, but as the weeks went on and the sorrow in her eyes refused to fade, Danior had become frustrated with her. His once gentle voice now held a sharp edge that cut into her heart when he spoke to her. He didn’t understand why she still grieved, why she simply couldn’t let go of the past and look to the future, especially when that very future was filled with such hardship because of the bitter cold. There was no more time for grief, not if they wished to survive.
He told her over and over that Alliana was gone, and that she must live for now, for him, yet hard as she tried, Natalya couldn’t forget her friend. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him, didn’t love her family and her way of life, she couldn’t imagine living in one of the houses they passed when they traveled through the villages. Couldn’t understand how people could stay in one place and not be free, no, it was that Alliana had been a part of her heart and when she had been taken from them, a piece of her died.
Now, as Mikhal was leaving the inn, Natalya was tending the embers of the fire near her wagon as the night sky engulfed the forest around her. She labored to stoke them so they would still be hot enough in the morning to produce the heat that would bring feeling back to bodies numbed by cold. She depended on the fire for so very much, and hated it when she had to crawl out of bed and spend useless minutes in the frigid air trying to get it going again because she hadn’t done the job properly the night before.
Finally satisfied, Natalya rushed into her wagon, relieved that her husband was still talking with his friends. What she was about to do had become forbidden by him, yet she simply couldn’t stop herself. She had to find out about Alliana, had to see if her friend was okay.
She quickly unwrapped the tin of Indian tea hidden in her tiny chest of drawers and spooned some into the stained white china cup she reserved for such occasions, and then poured the seaming water she had brought into the wagon from an earthen jug into the fragile piece of porcelain. Swirling the cup, steeping the tea, Natalya glanced nervously at the doorway, hoping against hope that Danior would continue to talk long into the night.
Finally, the tea was ready, and she quickly sipped it until the was but a spoonful of the liquid in the cup, then, she carefully tipped it over onto the saucer to drain away any last bit of moisture so she could read the remaining pattern of leaves to see what the fates had in store for Alliana.
During the ritual, Natalya became so absorbed in her task that she failed to hear Danior’s footsteps approach the wagon. He climbed the short ladder and stepped in, the smile upon his face instantly fading.
“I told you, you were not allowed to do such things, wife.”
Natalya’s eyes flashed. She hated the biting edge in his tone, the way he was looking at her with anger and impatience.
“I do what I must do. Please don’t try to stop me. It is almost done.”
“I won’t allow you to spend your time searching for her. She is gone. I forbid it.”
“Forbid it? Forbid it? How can you tell me that? Alliana was my dear friend and it is because of her that your belly is full tonight as you go to bed. What does it hurt for me to look at my leaves? Why do you object to me seeing her fate?”
Danior fumed as he gazed at her, his eyes narrowing, he didn’t like her stubborn streak any more than Mikhal liked Alliana’s. Women were to obey. “You will do what you are told. The Kris has decided that Alliana is to be forgotten. If her magick brings her back to us when she is of age, then it was meant to be. He who took her means much trouble to us. You must forget her.”
“No”
“Natalya, you shall obey me.” Danior came forward, intending to sweep the offending teacup from the bedside table, but Natalya lunged forward, shielding it with her body. The china cup was the only one she had, and Natalya wasn’t about to let him shatter it upon the floor.
The arm that was swinging forward caught her upon the shoulder and head, but Natalya stiffened against the blow and held her position, determination and anger seething inside her. “No! Leave me be.”
“I’ll leave you woman, and when I return your magickal wares had better be out of sight. Perhaps you should look for your own fate among the leaves tonight in my absence.”
They gazed at each other, each with eyes of steel, hearts heavy at the riff that had come between them, and then Danior’s softened. He loved her, he truly did; she was just so exasperating at times. Women were to be docile and obedient, not willful and disrespectful.
“Put it away and change for bed. I’ll return in a few minutes and I expect you to be ready for me. Your dreams should be filled with your husband and your future babies, wife, not with the memories of a past best forgotten.”
Natalya didn’t say a word as she watched him go. She didn’t trust her voice not to break and give way to all the emotions that were tearing her apart. He had struck her. Granted it was accidental, but he hadn’t apologized. What was becoming of her marriage? Even her maman had noticed that Danior seemed displeased with her as of late. She’d gotten a scolding in fact, but had turned a deaf ear. Perhaps though, he was right. Perhaps she should look to her own future.
Sitting up slowly, rubbing the side of her head where he had struck her, Natalya tipped the teacup over and gazed down at its contents. To her surprise, all of the leaves had moved to the rim of the cup. Nothing remained in the bottom or middle, telling her that the fortune she was to read for herself was to happen almost at once.
Gazing deeper, letting the shapes take form in her mind, Natalya looked at the dark bits of leaves upon the glossy white porcelain. As she did so, a chill gripped her heart. The first thing that caught her eye was the shape of a cross. She knew this meant trouble, but did it mean for her and Danior, or for the entire clan? Near the cross was a bear. The bear meant a long journey, but that wasn’t really to be feared, they traveled every day. On the other side of the rim the bits of tealeaves were overlapping, reminding Natalya of a cage. Imprisonment? Was she to be put in jail or placed in a dungeon? She never broke the law, hardly even had any contact with the gadje or their prisons. When they rode through a village she was always tucked inside her wagon.
As she mulled over what she was seeing, one more shape caught Natalya’s attention, and this one made her breath catch in her throat. A hawk. There was the distinct image of a hawk just to the right of the cage. The hawk meant the enemy. A very bad enemy, but who?
Natalya picked up the teacup with shaking hands, what she had seen had filled her with dread. The bear and the cross were not so bad on their own, her clan faced trouble every day, but combined with the hawk and the cage, she knew someone, most likely herself, was in deep trouble.
What should she do? Tell the Kris? Most all were abed by this time. Danior would be returning any moment and Natalya didn’t think he would be in the mood to hear of her visions. She hadn’t even prepared for bed yet as he’d told her. Perhaps she should wait until morning but could she? Was it safe? Maybe they should gather the wagons right now and flee, but from what?
A sudden thought hit her and Natalya sprang into action. She would show the cup to Alliana’s godmother. Natalya knew Alliana’s godmother’s gifts of sight far surpassed her own, so it would be best fo
r the old woman to read the leaves herself.
She gathered up the cup and pulled her shawl around her shoulders, knowing she had to leave the wagon before her husband returned, but was thwarted in her efforts as the very man she was hoping to avoid opened the rear door. He took one look at her, still fully dressed and obviously on her way somewhere, and his face turned thunderous.
“What is this, Natalya? My commands do not matter anymore? I told you I wished for you to be abed when I returned.”
“No... Danior I... The leaves. I have to show the leaves to...”
This time he was too quick for her. Danior shot forward and brought his hand downward, sweeping the fragile teacup out of her arm where Natalya had clutched it to her body, sending it crashing to the ground. Natalya cried out at his actions, mourning the loss of her precious cup and its significant contents.
“Enough! No more of this, I told you; get undressed and into that bed, woman. Now! I shan’t be denied the warmth of my wife.”
“But the leaves spoke of danger. A hawk and a cross...”
“I’m weary and I’ve no time for your magicks. Do what you wish in the morning Natalya, but for now you are getting in bed. Do not defy me further.”
He had grasped her arms tightly as he’d ranted at her, and Natalya could see that her husband’s level of tolerance was gone. As much as she wanted to tell Alliana’s godmother what she had seen, she knew it would have to wait. One did not walk out on one’s husband, not if one wanted a warm bed to sleep in on a frigid winter night.
Natalya pulled away and rubbed her arms, a shimmer of tears she refused to cry glistening in her eyes. She bowed her head and turned from him so he wouldn’t see her misery, and slowly undressed, then climbed into the small bed they shared without a word, stiffening as he took her into his arms. Tomorrow, tomorrow she would tell the Kris, and do whatever she had to, to make sure the clan was safe, but tonight she would obey her husband like a good wife should.
Beneath the Shadows of Evil... Taken Page 34
