The Gypsy Queen (11 page)

  “
Yana
, I have two requests of you,” the King said. “First, I ask of you to join us in the Great Hall for a feast tonight. You shall be the guest of honor,” he said.

 
Yana
knew it would be an insult to decline, and her curious nature begged to attend anyway. “Yes sir, I would like that very much,” she said.

  “Secondly, I ask that you accept a mandate I would charge you with. Something you are uniquely suited to do,” he said.

  “A mandate?” she asked. “What is your mandate?”

  The King looked her right in the eye. “Protect my son.”

 
Yana
looked at Bastion, and then back to the King.

  “I accept your mandate, sir” she said firmly.

        ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Draiman walked through the grounds inside
Tatu
Castle
. It was a cluttered assembly of wooden buildings and walkways, within the stone walls of its perimeter. The wood was all of different age, as the corridors and rooftops had all been added on in a piecemeal fashion. Draiman hated it, as there were rough snags and broken boards to bother with no matter which route he chose. Finally he arrived at his destination- the dungeon.

  It was a plain looking building, just one story tall. Inside, Draiman found its clusters of little cells. Sometimes the slaves could be found in them, but often they were empty. Always, they smelled foul.

  Draiman pulled a hood over his head, and hid his face behind a scarf. Even though the slaves would soon leave the country, and never be seen again, he did not want to be seen either. Draiman was a gypsy selling out gypsies, and he needed to keep his exposure to a minimum. His people would deliver him a horrible death if they found out.

  He descended from the basic one-story building, down the concealed steps, into the dungeon below. He knew the slaves were being kept there, and decided to choose one to play with before heading south with the caravan. His eyes narrowed to adjust to the dim light. He could feel his violence and lust begin to flow, as he looked over the captives.

  They said nothing, cowering in the underground cells. Their misery was as evident as the stench of the cool dirt. Draiman reached his staff between the bars into a group of slaves who had clustered together. They remained silent, and offered little resistance. They had already been beaten since their arrival, as it was customary to their training. The gypsy slaves were tougher, but they all learned swiftly to obey, and not resist.

  Draiman could see the fear in their eyes, and it excited him. He was looking for a gypsy girl, one that had been beaten plenty, but still had some fight. He reached his staff into another cell, prodding a girl whose clothing was not as filthy as some. He liked what he saw, so he jabbed the stick at her, hearing her yelp in pain. His smile was concealed by the scarf, as he shouted for a guard to retrieve the one he had chosen.

    The guard showed up, shuffling through the dim halls. The dungeon was not the only thing underground, but rather hallways and offshoots were everywhere, so that the masters of the castle could move about undetected, or hide in the case of emergency. Draiman knew his way around fairly well, but still got turned around sometimes.

  The iron gate creaked open at the guard’s tugging. Draiman stepped in and grabbed the girl he had chosen, causing her to cry out again as he jerked her upward to him. “Come with me,” he growled, his urgent lust overwhelming his thoughts.

  “Where are you taking me?” she begged. Draiman hit her in the side of the head, knocking her down. This time she stayed silent. He jerked her back up on her feet. She was perfect.

  He took her away, and the guard clunked the gate back and locked it. 

  The others sat quiet, afraid to earn another beating.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  The Great Hall in the palace at
Jedikai
was like nothing
Yana
had ever seen. She marveled at the artwork and ornate decoration. She had to concede that the
gaje
had done some fine work. Food and drink were already being served, and music played merrily. Bastion led
Yana
to the King’s table, and they waited until the King came and sat down, and then sat next to him.

  Bastion’s Uncle Otta sat on the other side of the King, and other members of the court joined the main table. Many other tables were set along the sides of the hall, and people from the city came to dine in celebration. The center was kept open, a dance floor with the musicians nearby.

  Wine began to flow, a deep red wine
Yana
had never tasted before. She indulged, but was careful not to hav
e too much. She had known
the ill
effects of too much drink well enough,
in the gypsy camps. The hall was vibrant with talk and laughter, as the galley workers brought out more and more food.
Yana
soon realized she was getting a lot of stares.

  She wore a formal dress provided her in the palace, so she was not dressed like a gypsy, but she had the distinct look of a gypsy anyway.
Yana
leaned in to Bastion.

  “They don’t like me here,” she said.

  “They are good people,
Yana
,” he replied.

  “I would rather be among the galley crew, than at the King’s table,” she said. “I would be much more comfortable there.”

  “This is the perfect time to win them over,
Yana
,” Bastion said. “Yes, some of them don’t like gypsies, but isn’t that exactly what we want to change?”

  “I don’t want to be here,”
Yana
said. “I am here to help find Emilee and fight the slave traders. I am not here as some kind of emissary.”

  A servant approached them, and poured a bit more wine for them both.

  “Have you need for help in the galley?”
Yana
asked the servant girl. “I’d rather scrub crockery,” she said with a smile.

  The servant girl looked to Bastion for permission, as they were typically not to speak to the guests during an event. Bastion smiled and tilted his head towards
Yana
, encouraging her to answer.

  “Begging your pardon Miss,” the girl said, “but every girl in the kitchen would trade places with you quicker than an arrow from a bow.”

  “Why is that?”
Yana
asked.

  “Um...” she stammered, unsure how to say it. She began blushing profusely, and sought to excuse herself immediately. “It’s a fine table, Miss. It’s the
King’s
table.” She ran out of words, and said “Pardon me,” quietly, and disappeared.

  It all came clear to
Yana
, and she felt foolish for not seeing it sooner. It wasn’t just that she was a gypsy... it was that she was a girl, a woman, seated next to Bastion at the King’s table.

  “Bastion, they are not just staring at me because I am a gypsy, are they?”
Yana
asked.

  “No,” he answered.

  “They are staring at me because they think we are together?”

  “The women are, yes,” he answered.

  “And the men?” she asked.

  “They stare because they have never seen a woman as beautiful as you.”

  “That is rubbish,”
Yana
scoffed. She couldn’t tell if Bastion was teasing her or not. A question popped into her head.

  “Why have you not taken a wife, Bastion?”

  Bastion chuckled. “A wife? Who has time for that?”

  “You do,” she said. “You are heir to the throne.”

  “I guess I’m just too much of a gypsy,” Bastion said.

The music stopped, as the King stood up and motioned. His voice boomed forth deeply, as he addressed the entire hall. “Citizens of
Jedikai
!” he called out. “Tonight we celebrate the return of my son
!
” he said with pride.
“
We
continue to move
against the slave trade
s, to protect the
kingdom
!” The room applauded that statement, as it was an issue of concern to everyone. The King was well-loved by the citizens. He se
rved them well, and
Jedikai
had
prospered under his rule.

  The King began coughing, as his attendants came up to him to help. He dismissed them with a wave of his hand, and spoke again.

  “The gypsies stand with us! Soon we will overcome the threat, and we will restore safety to the
Kingdom
!” he announced. The crowd applauded again, as the King began coughing once more. “Tonight,” he continued, “I introduce a brave gypsy who has struck blows against the slave traders, and saved the lives of
Jedikai
citizens, including my son
! Welcome her to our courts, our halls, our city...
Yana
!” he said with a flourish, motioning to her.

  The hall broke out in great applause, and
Yana
was confused. She woul
d not have expected to see the Great H
all of
Jedikai
full of citizens applauding a gypsy
- least of all, herself
. Neither did she expect any such attention. Fortunately, her dancing had made her familiar with attention, so she stood up and smiled, and waved a sort of hello to the crowd. She sat b
ack down, a bit embarrassed. I
never should have tracked Bastion into that gulley, she thought with a smile. How in the world did I wind up here?

  Music broke out once more, and a costumed figure came out, and began to consort with the tables around the hall. It seemed a young boy, to
Yana
, and he was wearing a ridiculous hat. He hopped about, telling jokes at the tables that
Yana
could not hear. It must be the fool, she supposed, a raconteur in the King’s court.

  The fool moved to speak with the musicians, and Yana
noticed
a gorgeous harp. It looked much like the little one she learned to play, only much bigger. She thought it might be even taller than she was. No one was playing it; they all had other instruments.
Yana
’s eyes were drawn to it.

  The musicians began to play along with the fool, and the fool began stepping to drum beats, and moving with them. His theatrics were silly,
Yana
thought, but still... he was fun. The music came to a stop.

  “Tonight I would regale you, with ancient tales of yore,” the fool said, “from distant lands and long lost Kings, from very distant shores!”
He hopped towards the King’s table. “Instead I have a song for you, a simple gypsy rhyme, for our guest of honor, Water Into Wine!”
Yana
sat up straight. The young boy had all her attention.

  The music started up, and the musicians played lightly in step with the fool’s tempo. He recited the words perfectly:

water on the zodiac

and wetness on her lips

hardened shells could crack too soon

with gentle fingertips

closer, closer,
draw me
near

lost in gypsy time

drinking salty kisses

turning water into wine

The earth began
to move

and the mountains
changed their
place

but still in her farewells

there was love upon her face

lofty springs flow
 
clean and fresh

freedom runs
divine

rolling mud beneath our feet

turning water into wine

The air would chill defiant

yet still we si
t outside

a gypsy camp about us

come now for the ride!

Winds of change before us

somehow right on time

fermented in a springtime
breeze

her
water into wine

Fire ru
n
s
in pages

scrolls
and wood
 
in kind

stories
of the past

a gypsy leaves
behind