The Gypsy Queen (41 page)

  “That’s the best part! We’ll take your enemies away and sell them as slaves on the far side of the
Black Sea
!” Draiman laughed at the irony.

  “If we succeed,” Otta said, “I want you and the Moldavians from Kaffa to leave the
kingdom
of
Jedikai
, and never return.”

  “Certainly,” Draiman said. “We would have to. Then you will be the King who keeps your people safe. For now, just keep things going normally. I will alert you when the army is ready to move.”

  “And here I thought you were just a spy,” Otta said, sounding impressed.

  “This plan will work, and you will be a fine King,” Draiman said. “Trust me.” 

  “Trust a gypsy?” Otta said, as they laughed together.

_________________________

The Gypsy Queen- CHAPTER 24- “secrets”

 
Yana
sat with Luba, on the flat tower roof where she had made love to Bastion.
Yana
had asked her to come into the city
for the night
, so they could be alone. Emilee and Jaelle were looking after Lyubov down in the meadows, as
Yana
and Luba overlooked them. Their fire roared hot, in the pit she had set up. Luba lit up two candles, and pulled out her little crystal ball.

  She set the ball into the garment she brought, a favorite scarf that Lyubov often wore. She polished it, and set it between them as they faced each other. A candle on each side, they both looked intently at the ball.

  “I will do something different tonight,” Luba said. She took the candle on her right, and dripped one drop of wax on the corner of the scarf. She set it down, and did the same thing with the other candle, on the opposite corner. She squeezed each wax drop with her fingers, and then squeezed the corners together, and set the garment back down.
Yana
looked closely at the ball, but only in curiosity. Luba was the only one skilled enough to do it properly. Luba lifted the ball into her lap by the waxy edges, and then looked into it, gliding her fingers across it, concentrating on old Lyubov.

 
Yana
looked on, as the ball seemed to dim. It seemed like it was getting darker, turning black. It frightened
Yana-
she had never seen that happen before- but Luba was calm as she continued. Luba’s face seemed to take on the countenance of the old woman, gentle and stern... and ageless.

  “I see secrets,” Luba said.

  “What secrets?”
Yana
asked, hoping not to be disruptive.

  “I don’t know what secrets,” Luba said. “There are more than one.” She continued, gliding her hands over the glassy surface.

  “Who has secrets?”
Yana
asked. Luba looked in
to the crystal
patiently.

  “We are surrounded by them,” Luba said. “See how dark the crystal is?”

  “What does it mean?”
Yana
asked. Luba looked up, her eyes shining with darkness against the flicker of the fire.

  “These secrets are alive,” Luba said. “They are not dead and past.”

  “Are they dangerous?”
Yana
asked.

  “Yes.”

  Luba wrapped up the ball. She had not found what she was looking for.

  “Does Lyubov have a secret?”
Yana
asked, trying to understand. They had been trying to gain insight for their old friend.  

  “Yes,” Luba said. “You have a secret too.”
Yana
hung her head.

  “Yes. I do,” she said. “Too many secrets.”

  “Tell me,” Luba said.
Yana
looked at the young girl who was much like a sister to her. They had traveled many a mile together.

  “I do not know if I can be queen,”
Yana
said. “I love Bastion, I do love that man.”

  “Being a queen is much more than just loving a man,” Luba said.

  “I left that boy here nine years ago,”
Yana
said. “I was in love with him even then, but there was nothing I could do. I had to go.”

  “Why?” Luba said.

  “Because he is not a gypsy,”
Yana
said. “He is a fine man, the best of men- but there are rules here. Structure. I don’t know if I like it.”

  “You will sacrifice, if you stay,” Luba said.

  “I have so much joy when I am with Bastion,”
Yana
said, “but there is a cost. A terrible cost. A price I do not think I can afford.”

  “There will be a cost to leave him, now,” Luba said.

  “Yes. It broke my heart nine years ago, and it will break nine times worse, if I left now. Nine hundred times worse.”

  “He wants you to stay,” Luba said. “He wants to keep you.”

  “Keep?”
Yana
said, considering it. “I cannot be kept.”

  “Have you told him?”

  “No. It is a secret, as you said. Tell me,”
Yana
asked her young friend, “how can I be a gypsy, and also a queen? How can I stay in a city when my heart cries out for the road?”

  “How can you leave a man you cannot live without?” Luba asked.

  “I can live without him,”
Yana
said. “I have these nine years.”

  “Do you want a life without him?” Luba asked.
Yana
thought of the lonely nights, longing for him, in their cave. She thought of the joy of making love to him there, feeling his
aura, his touch, his presence
.

  “No. I do not want a life without him.”

  “Here,” Luba said. “I want to see you.”
Yana
was reluctant, having been disturbed by the darkened crystal ball, and the secrets it alluded to. Still, she complied. Luba took the shawl
Yana
was wearing, the red and gold one that her friends had made for her to match Bastion’s mantle. Luba went through the same steps as before, with the drops of wax, and cradled the ball in her lap, looking into it.
Yana
looked on, in her endless curiosity. Her eyes grew wide, as the ball seemed to illuminate. She looked at the fire, but it wasn’t the fire. The light was inside the ball. It was beautiful, a light blue at first, then shifting to red and gold, like a chameleon blending into the colors of the shawl. Luba grew a gentle smile.

  “I see so much of you,” Luba said. “I am so glad to be your friend.”

  “You are more sister than friend,” Yana said.

  “Touch the crystal,” Luba said, not taking her eyes off it.
Yana
reached out and touched it, setting her palm against the side.

  “Healing,” Luba said.

  “Healing?”

  “I have never seen it so lovely,” Luba said. “I see healing.”

  “But I am healed,”
Yana
said, speaking of her wound.

  “You are torn,
Yana
. You have been torn. But healing is coming to you.” It was little comfort to
Yana
, who still faced every struggle that had mounted... but the sound of Luba’s voice was seductive.

  “Healing for me?”
Yana
asked. She wanted to hear it again.

  “Healing for you. The most beautiful I have ever seen.”

  “What about for Lyubov?”
Yana
said. “She is the one who needs healing.”

  “Everyone needs healing,
Yana
,” Luba said.

  “And everyone has secrets,”
Yana
responded.
Yana
looked out on the dark horizon, thinking. Quickly, she searched through her things, and pulled out her telescope. She pointed it in the direction she had been looking. She could see nothing but darkness amidst a campfire or two in the distance. She looked as closely as she could through the lens, but got nothing else.

  “What did you see?” Luba asked, putting away her crystal ball.

  “I thought I saw,”
Yana
paused, thinking. “Nothing.” She put the telescope away, and pulled her harp out from its bag.

  “May I play for you, little sister?”
Yana
asked. Luba smiled. Listening to Yana play her harp was one of
her favorite things
. They both looked out, in the direction
Yana
had been looking a moment ago. The long, mournful howl of a wolf crept across
Yana
’s skin in chills, as they heard it.
Yana
closed her eyes, and dreamt herself a wolf, running where she pleased, letting out her own soulful cry, as she began to play her harp. She pulled the strings deftly, both girls getting lost in the sound. She played the strings of her own heart with every note, every vibration. The girls stayed there well into the night, listening to the sounds of nature at night, talking, laughing, and telling stories as simple gypsy girls.

 
Yana
wished her life was simple that night, like it used to be.

 
Yana
went into the King’s chambers that night, to her lover, after Luba headed back. Bastion had been drifting off to sleep, but she woke him with kisses. She dared not speak, lest she reveal her sadness. She made love to him, and opened herself to him, trying so hard to burn him into her memory. She looked upon him as his aura glimmered faintly, even in her own ecstasies. She loved Bastion deeply and dearly, and spoke her heart to him as they moved together, without a word. She let him do as he willed, and partake of her as he wished. She closed her eyes.

  She dared not look him in the eye. She knew he would see her fear.

  She was afraid of the pain. She could already feel it.

  The heartbreak of having to say goodbye.

  Again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yana
walked the palace halls once more, trailing
her fingers along the elaborate
trim. Her bare feet enjoyed the cool stone beneath her, as she looked around at everything. It was remarkable that she had even set foot in this grand building, let alone finding herself betrothed to the King that ruled it.
Yana
tried to talk to herself silently as sh
e went. She tried to reason
why she should not stay, telling herself that her emotions could not be trusted, could not last. The only thing she had trusted in life was herself.

  She trusted Bastion... but she trusted him so much that she knew he would never leave his station as King. She could never ask such a thing of him, and dared not- for him to choose his job over her would be crushing. Bastion had said that they would not fail, when he proposed to marry her- but perhaps he had not accounted for the gypsy blood that was calling her away. It seemed he had also not accounted for the opposition from the citizens. He had tried hard to make her a hero, and bring harmony, but the harsh words they heard at the party belied his every effort.

  Bastion had said they would be invincible, but the words rang hollow as she remembered them. They might always love each other, but she could not put her hope in a fantasy.
Yana
hoped to speak with him after his day was finished. She hoped he would be able to convince her, and persuade her to stay. At the same time, she hoped he would let her go.

She hoped he would not ask of her what she could not give.

She was not able to say no to him.

 
Yana
found herself at the doors to the throne room. No guard was in attendance, and Bastion had business in the city. She lifted the heavy beam and let herself in. She shut the door behind her, but as she did, she heard the beam fall back into its slot. She pushed on the door, and it held fast. She was locked in!
Yana
knew she should not be in the throne room alone, but there she was anyway. So many damned rules, she thought. She decided to look around.

  She went to the enclave built into the wall, where the two crowns rested. She looked at them a while. The crown of the King, and the crown of the queen, side by side. They were fantastic.

  Yet, eve
n for all their exceptional
beauty, they were circles made of metal, just like shackles. The jewels could not hide their nature. They were intended for honor, not for shame, but they were bonds just the same.
Yana
reached in a
nd
stroked the alexandrite stones in the two crowns. She was glad she had given hers to Bastion. She was still mystified for the stone in the queen’s crown. She wanted to ask Lyubov about it.