The Gypsy Queen (40 page)

  “I am missing two horses,” the third man complained.

  “And I have had my foodstores raided on two different nights,” the fourth one said.

  “So, have all of you suffered loss?” Otta said. They all nodded.

  “We want the gates closed at night,” the first man said.

  “You want to close the city gates in a time of peace?” Otta said. “That is not our normal protocol.”

  “These are not normal times,” the first man said. “There are more gypsies around than ever. The west meadows are supposed to be for the citizens, not for the gypsies. The King has broken faith with us in favor of those damned gypsy crooks.”

  “Be careful how you speak of the King with me,” Otta cautioned.

  “I thought we were here to speak freely,” the man said. “We know the King will not listen to these complaints because he has chosen a gypsy girl to marry.” His voice oozed with annoyance.

  “You may speak freely,” Otta said, “But remember that the King you complain of has already shown great valor for this city, and is inexperienced in these matters.”

  “We are counting on you to speak to him on our behalf,” the third man said. “He is your nephew; he will listen to you.”

  “I cannot respect a man who would marry a gypsy,” the fourth one said.

  “Even a gypsy who has fought for this
kingdom
, saved the King’s life more than once, and rescued citizens of
Jedikai
?” Otta retorted. None of them replied.

  “I realize that this is a difficult time, but we must be patient. I will speak to the King about the issues you have presented,” Otta said. “We must step carefully, so that we can get the result we want- the prosperity of the
kingdom
.”

  “We want the gates closed at night,” the first man said.

  “And you think that will solve everything?” Otta asked.

  “We would like to find out. Something must be done.”

  “If we catch horse thieves, we will hang them according to our laws,” Otta said. “We will enforce the rules and keep the peace. I will talk to the King and see if I can get him to close the gates at night until the issue passes. It may be difficult, as you know- the King does not hold the same contempt for gypsies as many of us do.”

  “We trust you,” the second man said. “We have been doing business with you in the palace for many years. We have done many favors for you.”

  “I know,” Otta said, setting his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I shall remind the King of our obligations.”

  “What of this gypsy queen?” the fourth man said. “Can anything be done about her?”

  “I know of your wishes, my friends. I may not be able to dissuade the King from the woman he loves, but perhaps I can use her to our benefit.”

  “If the King does not protect us from theft, we will protect ourselves,” the second man said.

  “Please, be patient, my friends,” Otta continued. “I will make sure your interests are protected.”

  “We would prefer that you were King, Otta,” the first man said.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 
Yana
entered the palace galley, greeting all the girls there, including Mille.

  “Are you working in the galley now?”
Yana
asked her.

  “I work in here sometimes,” Mille said. “It keeps me busy, and gives me time to think.”
Yana
needed some time to think, too. She had just asked the palace doctor to go visit Lyubov.

  “I want to help. What are we working on?”
Yana
asked.

  “We are about to scrub all the floors!” Mille said. “You sure you want to help?”

  “Of course I do,”
Yana
said with a smile. She was no stranger to hard work, and when doing so alongside friends, she found it to be good fun. Mille tossed her a brush with a laugh, and they got to work. They scrubbed and talked, as
Yana
let the other girls tell their stories. She didn’t want to tell the King’s business, and she wanted to get her mind off her own.

 
Yana
scrubbed near the pantry when a man walked in, picking at things on the counter and sampling.

  “Don’t mind me,” Otta said as he popped some berries in his mouth.
Yana
looked up.

  “Oh, hello, Otta,”
Yana
said, looking up at him.

  “
Yana
?” he asked, surprised. “What are you doing in here scrubbing floors?”

  “I am working with m
y friends,” she said. “How are
you?”

  “I am about the King’s business,” Otta said. “As should you be.”
Yana
wiped her hair back from her face with a forearm.

  “What do you mean?” she said.

  “It is not befitting a queen, to be scrubbing floors in a galley,” Otta said, frowning.

  “Even the King’s galley?”
Yana
said. “Isn’t that the King’s business too?”

  “There are many duties a queen may have. Scrubbing floors is not among them,” he said.

  “Well,”
Yana
said, “I am not a queen.” 

  Otta looked at her with a face of stone.

  “Indeed,” he said, and turned and left the galley.   

 
Yana
finished the floors in the galley, but there was very little chatter. Otta had dampened the mood, and made
Yana
even more troubled than she had been to begin with. They put their cleaning supplies away,
and most of the girls began
their work for the evening meal.

  “Don’t you worry about him,” Mille said of Otta, as they washed their hands. “He is a good man.”

  “I don’t know what to think, Mille,”
Yana
said. “He has been sometimes friendly, and sometimes cold.”

  “He is in a hard time,” Mille said. “He lost his brother, and now his job has many burdens.”

  “Same with Bastion,”
Yana
said, walking with Mille. “I think he would prefer to go back to just being the Captain, like he was.”

  “The queen bears many burdens too,
Yana
,” Mille said. “Just as I have made sacrifices here, so will you, when your time comes.”

  “And Otta wonders why I wanted to just scrub floors!”
Yana
laughed. “I never dreamed I would prefer scrubbing floors to ruling a
kingdom
!”

  “It is easy enough to do a job like scrubbing,” Mille said. “It is much harder to make decisions that will affect the lives of thousands, or even a decision that will get men killed.”
Yana
remembered her beloved Bastion as Captain. He had already been making those kinds of tough decisions. Still, he was so tender with her.

  “Mille, what do you know about Bastion’s mother?”

  “I will show you,” Mille said, leading her up a stairway, and then down a hallway
Yana
had not yet seen. They entered a small and simple room that had only a rocking chair, and a painting.

  “That’s her,” Mille said.
Yana
looked at the painting. It was a beautiful young woman, wearing the very same crown that Bastion had presented to her at the Coronation. She had eyes
that seemed familiar, and the A
lexandrite stone in the center of her crown was captured perfectly by the artist.
Yana
tried to get a feel for what the woman might have been thinking, or what she might have been like.

  “She was a good woman, I am told,” Mille said. “In fact, they say she liked to come work in the kitchen sometimes just like you did.”

  “How did she die?”
Yana
asked.

  “She got sick. No one was able to help her get well. She lasted a few seasons before she passed.”
Yana
looked around some more, noticing that the painting itself was facing out the small window in the room, directly west towards the meadows.

  “The King used to come up here alone, to sit with her,” Mille said.

  “What was her name?”
Yana
asked, looking again at the exquisite painting.

  “Kesali,” Mille said.
Yana
’s
eyes widened.

  “Does that mean what I think it means?”
Yana
said. Mille smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

  “Maybe.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Otta slipped through town in the late hours of the night. Cloaked in black, he moved expertly toward his destination. He creaked open the old door, and slipped inside. No one was manning the entrance, due to Otta’s own order. Into the King’s passage he went, knowing it by memory. He felt around and pushed open the wall of branches and bushes that normally concealed the outside entrance.

  He emerged into the fields north of the west meadows, and walked through the stones that were scattered everywhere to preve
nt tracks. He had ordered
the black riders to take the night off, and they all seemed gr
ateful for the reward, after
their hard training. Otta didn’t care much for their getting rest- he just didn’t want to be spotted himself. After a good long walk through the darkness, he headed for the campfire he knew to be that of the Ursari. He shed his black cloak, and walked into the camp.

  “Oi, Draiman,” Otta called. The men all jumped in surprise; they had not heard or seen him coming.

  “Oi, my good friend,” Draiman replied in kind.

  “Sneakin’ up on us like that is a good way to get killed,” Gunari said.

  “Silence,” Otta said to Draiman’s lackey. He was in a sour mood.

  “You want to get a bite of this meat?” Draiman offered.

  “I think not. What kind of meat is it?” Otta said.

  “It’s horse meat,” Draiman said. “After your boys threw me out of the city, I had to kill something. I thought this would be more delicious than eating a black coward for supper.”

  “I suppose that horse was stolen from the city?” Otta said.

  “All I know is, the horse was here, and caught me on a bad day. Besides, I didn’t like the way he was lookin’ at me!” Draiman said, roaring into laughter along with the rest of his tribe.

  “We better talk,” Otta said. Draiman took a swig of his drink, and got up to lead Otta into the darkness for privacy. Otta started.

  “I have ordered the men to kill you if you are spotted in the city,” he said. “You have been warned.”

  “Kill me? Why?”

  “I told you not to cause trouble. Instead, you are stealing horses, and then you walk up and provoke the King?”

  “I had to,” Draiman said. “I had things to say.”

  “The
n you understand that I had to
give the order for your death,” Otta replied. “I am trying to balance the situation. Your stealing horses is a problem. I have ordered you to be untouched outside the city. No harm will come to you unless you enter.”

  “No problem,” Draiman said. “I have the solution to both of our problems.”

  “Solution?” Otta stopped.

  “We are going to make you King of
Jedikai
,” Draiman said.

  “Me? King?” Otta said, incredulous.

“Listen,” Draiman continued, “t
here is an army forming in the Lower Reach. Soon t
hey will march on
the city. We will destroy the King, but we will make you the hero that negotiated a truce with the invaders.”

  “I presume this army is from Kaffa?” Otta said.

  “Yes. Bastion brought down this terrible problem with his foolish mission. He should have been wise enough to stay in his own territory.”

  “And now he will have to pay,” Otta said, following the thought.

  “Exactly.”

  “It will never work,” Otta said. “The King will close the gates, and no siege can prevail beyond the city walls.”

  “That’s where you come in,” Draiman said, excited. “You just make sure that they don’t close the gates. With your help, this army can march right in and set things right. It will be over in a day.”

  “Maybe less than that,” Otta said.

  “And you will be King.”

  “What’s in it for you?” Otta asked.

  “Just a bit of the King’s wealth should do. Gaining the throne will be costly for you, of course.”

  “And what of my enemies? Those loyal to the King? What would happen to them?” Otta asked, encouraging Draiman to explain everything.