Gypsy in Black: The Romance of Gypsy Travelers (14 page)

“
Who?
”

“
Emilian
.  I was talking with
Emilian
!
”
  Irritated with
Nicolae
, she
clenched her hands into fists,
resting them on her hips as she
glared at her husband.  Her eyes n
arrowed as she spoke. 
“
He said
I was gypsy.  What did he mean by that,
Nicolae
?
”

“
He said that?
”
 
Nicolae
smiled at her, trying to cover up his own anger. 
“
Emilian
is mad, S'har
a.  He is crazy, yes?  You must
not listen to him.  Ever.
”

“
He's crazy?
”
  She softened h
er expression. 
“
Is that why he
sleeps in the woods, away from the others?
”

“
How do you know that?
”
  T
he tenderness was gone from his
voice.  Taking her arm, he wal
ked quickly toward the wagons. 
This time, his hold on her arm was rough. 
“
You must n
ot talk to
him, S'hara.  He is very, ver
y dangerous.
”
  He was angry, she could sense that. 
“
He will harm you, my bori.  Be wary of him.
”
  The silence that
followed cautioned Sahara to dro
p the subject before she roused
Nicolae
's anger once again. 

The gypsies were gathering ar
ound the different wagons.  The
smaller children followed their mo
thers around, anxiously tugging
at their skirts.  One mother tu
rned around, slapping her young
daughter's face as she scolded
her.  Sahara watched the little
girl start to cry, wondering w
hy the gypsies were so prone to
violence.  Turning away, she looke
d up at
Nicolae
.  He ignored the
scene, looking around at the a
ctivity.  The last of the tents
came down quickly.  The mother
s began to hoard their children
into the wagons, shutting the door
s tightly before walking to the
front of the wagons.  They awaited th
eir husbands then climbed up
onto the front and sat down. 

The younger men mounted th
eir steeds.  A couple of horses
stood alone.  Sahara wondere
d if she was to ride one of the
horses.  But she did not see the
beautiful black stallion.  Nor
did she see
Emilian
.  As she watched the gypsies getting ready to leave,
she caught sight of Locke.  He sat on top of a brown mare,
apart from the others.  He did not
look at anyone, just stared at
the rising sun.  Sahara looked
at the other boys his age.  She
noticed Greggor glare at Locke, his face contorted as h
e said
something to one of his friends
.  His friend turned to look at
Locke then nodded.  Greggor's a
dangerous one, she thought idly
while waiting for
Nicolae
to give her instructions
as to
where to go.

The old
Rom Baro
emerged
from his wagon and caught
Nicolae
's
eye. 
There was a silent exchange between the two men.  Sahara noticed that at once.  She continued watching.  No words were exchanged but, just from that look, the men had communicated their plan and actions. 
Motioning with his wit
hered hand, the
Rom Baro
walked
toward a horse
, a large bay with colorful ribbons tied in its mane
. 
The Rom Baro
allowed a youn
ger man to help him mount.  The
young man stepped aside, stari
ng up at his
Rom Baro
with aged
respect. 
Sahara watched as the Rom Baro nodded his head at the young man, acknowledging the assistance that was given.  There was something stoic about the Rom Baro, despite the fact that he looked weary and aged.  She watched as he kicked the horse’s side and
move away to assess the caravans’ preparation.

She felt a pressure at her side.  It was
Nicolae
who gently
nudged his wife
's arm. 
“
Come S'hara. 
It is time. 
We must
leave.
”
  He le
d her to a wagon. 
Touching her elbow,
Nicolae
glanced
at the seat in front of the wagon. 
“
You will ride here
, yes?
”
 

“
What about you?
”
  She fou
ght his effort to help her onto
the wagon.

Nicolae
sighed, dropping his hand
from her tensed arm. 
“
S'hara,
I am future
Rom Baro
of this ku
mpania.  I ride with the men on
horses.
”

“
Why can't I ride with you
?
”
  She wasn't actually keen on
spending time with
Nicolae
but the t
hought of being without someone
she knew frightened her. 

Laughing,
Nicolae
shook his head. 
“
Women do n
ot ride, my
innocent bori.
”
He reached out again to help her climb onto the front seat of the wagon. 

“
Why
ever
not?
”
  Her voice rose shrilly as she shook her arm free of his grasp.
“
I know how to ride just fine, Nicolae.  It would be more comfortable than riding in a bumpy wagon.
”

Nicolae
's smile disappeared.  There were people watching and, as she had noticed before, he seemed less inclined to explain things to her when others were around. 
“
I am your husband. 
You will do as I sa
y!  Now get on the wagon before
I have to put you there mysel
f!
”
  His hands spread, ready to
reach for her
waist and mak
e good on his words.

Before he c
ould reply, in words or action, Sahara
climbed up the wagon step
s
, refusing his help.  Angrily, she
sat down on the hard slab
of wood meant for a bench. 
S
he ignored
the Nicolae’s
glare
.  Instead,
she crossed her arms over her
chest
, staring straight ahead with a scowl on her face.  From the corner of her eye, she saw him w
alk away to the men holding
his mount by the rei
ns.
They had been watching and seemed to nod their heads at Nicolae, supporting his harsh treatment of Sahara.  She frowned.
No wonde
r he couldn't find a wife among
his own people, she thought.  N
o woman in her right mind would
willingly wed such a cold hearted, uncaring
man
. 

The gypsy caravan began to mo
ve.  To Sahara's dismay, an old
man climbed next to her on the w
agon seat. 
He wore dirty clothes and smelled musty. 
He gave her a stiff
nod as he picked
up the rei
ns and slapped them against the
horses
' back.  The wagon lur
ched forward, the wheels slowly
rotating on the dry grass.  Sahar
a sighed, leaning her head back
against the front of the wagon. 
Her body swayed with each jerky
pitch.  She could hear the me
llow marching of the horses and
mules, almost in time.  The
wagons in front and behind her
creaked and groaned, the woo
d settling and shifting as they
moved.  Most of the gypsies were
quiet, ready to face a long day
of travel.  Behind Sahara's wagon,
the laughter of children could
be heard.  They sang songs in a different language, some of them clapping their hands, others
stomping their feet against the
wagon's floorboards.  To them, sh
e realized, trave
ling was just
another part of their wayward life.

The campsite had been about a mile from a long, dusty roa
d. 
Sahara eagerly looked both ways,
hoping she would recognize it. 
But the empty road, surrounded by
trees was as strange to her as
the gypsies.  She had never visi
ted outside of her small town. 
Rarely left the tavern after her father forced her to quit
school.  Disappointed, she sett
led back, wondering how long it
would take to get to wherever the
y were going.  Staring straight
ahead, she watched the back of the wagon in front o
f her. 
Occasionally
, she could hear a h
orse from behind amble a little
faster than the rest.  After a whi
le, horse and rider passed her,
continuing further up the line.
  She guessed there were twenty
wagons in all, some carrying te
nts for other gypsies and their
families. 

“
Romni
!
”
 

Sahara snapped out of her thoughts, turning
to look at the
old gypsy next to her.  His
graying
hair hung down his back in a
loose ponytail.  Along his r
ight cheek, a thick scar barely
blended in with the rest of his
face.  Frowning, Sahara decided
she didn't like the old gypsy.  His squinty brown e
yes looked
deceitful. 
“
Take da rei
ns fer
`while.  I want ta rest.
”
  His
voice was thick with an acc
ent.  Sahara wondered if he was
originally from Europe but she was too stubborn to ask.  He
thrust the
rei
ns at her, ign
oring her pleas as he stood up,
opening a
large
window to the wagon
that
S
ahara had failed to notice.  He
crawled into the wagon, shutt
ing the window carefully behind
himself.  She could hear h
im moving around inside, moving
something heavy off the mattress a
nd onto the floor.  Then he was
silent.

Bewildered, Sahara held the r
ei
ns carelessly in her hands. 
The horses pulled on the bits, g
lad for the slack.  Sahara held
her breath, wondering what was goi
ng to happen.  Would the horses
run, knowing an
inexperienced
person was driving them, she
wondered fearfully.  Would they h
ead off the dusty road, perhaps
breaking a wheel, holding
the rest of the caravan up and
certainly sparking
Nicolae
's tem
per?  To her relief, the horses
continued walking without mu
ch
guidance
.  She tightened the
reigns a little, slowly getting
use to the pulling.  Her hands
jumped around in time to their w
alking.  But as they walked on,
she relaxed.  The horses kept
moving and Sahara
continued
staring
straight ahead at the wagon in front of her.