Gene of Isis (32 page)

‘Shhh!’ I urged him to keep his voice down for the sake of his own cause and my sore head. ‘Why do you think Chavi will listen to me?’

‘She has listened to you before,’ he said.

‘Only because I had the backing of one of your ancestors,’ I pointed out.

‘Could we not seek
her
advice?’ Cingar suggested, rather excited by the prospect.

‘Not as long as I have this headache,’ I advised him.

‘Sorry about that.’ Cingar obviously felt responsible. ‘I shall have one of the women fix you an infusion.’

‘No alcohol,’ I stipulated.

‘I promise.’ Cingar rushed off to see to my needs.

The remedy proved worse than the ailment. The infusion smelt very uninviting and had a gritty texture and fiery taste! As soon as the brew hit my stomach I ran into the nearby cluster of trees to empty its contents several times over.

‘Oh, my,’ I uttered, breathless, as I staggered back to my caravan to wash my face in the tub of cold water there. ‘Well, that’s one way of getting the impurities out of my body.’

Cingar handed me a cloth with which to wipe my face. ‘Now you must drink this jug of water,’ he prescribed, pouring me a goblet.

In England, the water would be more lethal than the alcohol, but the gypsies boiled their drinking water, claiming the heat killed any impurities. This had been my reasoning for a good part of my life. The theory explained why broth, herbal infusions and tea made for safe drinking.

After I had consumed all the water, some bread and fresh fruit I felt distinctly better, although still somewhat seedy.

I instructed Cingar to wait outside while I spoke to Chiara, as I didn’t want to put her in an awkward position.

Upon my summons the old gypsy witch appeared
and proceeded to thank me in several different languages for the deliverance of her menfolk from prison in Orleans. But when I asked her if she was aware why I had summoned her today, she just chuckled and nodded.

‘Do you have any advice for the captain?’

Chavi is wise. Tell him to trust her judgement.

‘But he claims to be in love with Jessenia,’ I said on his behalf. ‘Does his own judgement stand for nothing?’

It is the breeding that attracts him, the blood that runs in the veins of the family into which he is to marry.

‘The genetic makeup of the sisters is bound to be similar.’ I followed her reasoning. ‘So, are you saying that Cingar is lusting after Jessenia only because he recognises his future wife in her?’

Exactly!

Terrific!
I thought. ‘How am I going to explain that to the captain?’

I exited my caravan to find Cingar and Chavi fervently debating the issue in question.

‘You nearly brought us all to ruin trying to avoid your responsibilities.’ Chavi was waving a finger at her grandson. ‘Time to grow up, Cingar, and stop seeking excuses—’

‘Jessenia is not an excuse!’ The captain dropped on one knee before his grandmother, so that she might see his sincerity. ‘I love her.’

‘Bah!’ Chavi waved off his declaration. ‘You have known her less than a day. By tonight, the woman I have chosen will hold your heart and none shall ever replace her. I have foreseen it.’

‘I don’t care what you have foreseen!’ Cingar was on his feet again and fuming. ‘This time, Chavi, you
are wrong.’ Cingar spotted me and sought to enlist my support. ‘Tell her, Miss Winston.’

I really wanted to support his claim, but could not. ‘Chiara agreed with Chavi, captain. I’m sorry.’

The look of betrayal on his face broke my heart. ‘Are even the spirits against me?’ Cingar stormed off into his caravan and slammed the door closed.

Chavi was chuckling at his reaction.

‘Young people these days, no trust,’ she uttered in an aside to me, then moved off to see how the wedding preparations were going in the camp next door to ours. ‘Ah!’ She noted the incoming caravan. ‘This will be the bride now. Miss Winston, would you inform my brooding grandson that his presence is required?’ Chavi joined the rest of her family who were eager to meet the new lady who was arriving in the camp next door.

When I knocked on the captain’s door, he exited carrying a bundle. ‘I’m going to leave,’ he stated. ‘I am tired of having a deluded old woman run my life.’

‘Don’t be childish.’ I grabbed the bundle from him and cast it back into his caravan. ‘Of course you’re not! Too many people are depending on you.’

‘Don’t you start!’ he protested.

‘Look. I think that you owe it to Chavi to at least meet your bride. If you don’t like her then…then you can run away.’ The captain was very reluctant, and I could completely sympathise with his frustration and fear. ‘If you still feel the same way after you meet your bride, then I shall do all within my power to help convince Chavi of her mistake.’

Cingar smiled as he resigned himself to the agreement. ‘I would very much like to kiss you, Miss Winston.’

I shook my head. ‘I refuse to allow you to land yourself in trouble at this late stage of the game.’ I rose up onto my toes and kissed his cheek. ‘I wish you peace, love, prosperity and happiness, Cingar, for it is surely what you deserve.’

‘Stay by me, please,’ he asked, casting his eyes past our deserted camp to the next.

‘As long as need be,’ I replied, accompanying the captain to meet his destiny.

Both clans were gathered around one of the caravans, and Cingar was cheered by the gathering as he made his appearance. He forced a smile of greeting and was courteous to all his well-wishers.

The captain went to stand next to Chavi, who introduced him to his prospective father-in-law and mother-in-law, Beval and Carmen, who had been closeted with Chavi all of the previous evening.

‘Where is Jessenia?’ Cingar wondered why she was not present.

‘We did not think it appropriate that she attend,’ her father replied sternly. Obviously, Jessenia had also protested to the marriage of Cingar to her sister and I felt for them both.

‘Time to introduce you to your truly intended.’ Beval directed Cingar’s attention to the closed door of the bridal caravan, whereupon the gathering all began chanting for the bride’s presence.

The caravan door was flung open and in the doorway stood a plump girl who bore no resemblance to Jessenia whatsoever. She waved at Cingar, smiling sweetly, while the captain looked at his grandmother, horrified. ‘Please,’ he muttered aside to her, ‘you are joking?’

The bride’s father caught the comment and his face went red in rage before he burst out laughing, as did all the new arrivals and Chavi. ‘Yes, it is a joke.’ Beval slapped his son-in-law’s arm to reassure him, then turned the captain’s head with his hand so that Cingar could note that Jessenia followed the first maiden from the bridal caravan.

‘I don’t understand?’ Cingar was bemused. ‘Are your daughters twins?’

‘We have only one daughter, Cingar,’ Beval placed a hand on the captain’s shoulder to express his sincerity, ‘and she has set her heart on you.’

When Cingar looked at Jessenia and her smile and nod allayed all his fears, my eyes flooded with tears of happiness for them both.

‘What did I say?’ Chavi posed to me, as Cingar kissed his intended.

‘You are so cruel.’ I voiced my view of her game.

‘Not so,’ she defended. ‘I just know my grandson…he will never commit to anything that he does not feel was his own idea.’

‘So,’ Beval asked the young couple, ‘shall there be a wedding here tomorrow?’

The confirmation of the event was unanimous!

We befriended and bribed many officials between Orleans and Marseilles in order to finally track down the gypsy caravan that we suspected Ashlee was travelling with.

We had our carriage stop some way from the gypsy camp, behind a cluster of trees, where we contemplated our next move.

Lord Devere was all for riding straight up to the camp and confronting our dear sister with the truth.

‘If she doesn’t see us coming and run off again,’ Mr Devere argued. ‘It has taken so long to find her I don’t want to scare her off before I get a chance to explain myself.’

‘Could I make a suggestion?’

The Devere men had drawn pistols and taken aim before I had even spotted the gypsy fellow who stood peering in our carriage window.

‘Please, gentlemen,’ he smiled, warmly. ‘I am to be wed tomorrow and have no desire to die.’

‘Who are you?’ I asked, rather well disposed toward the handsome vagabond.

‘I am Cingar Choron, the captain of this band,’ he announced.

‘Then you know the whereabouts of Miss Ashlee Winston,’ Mr Devere stated, without lowering his pistol.

‘And you must be Devere.’ Cingar kept his good humour.

‘My wife has mentioned me?’ Mr Devere was surprised.

‘As the man who broke her heart,’ Cingar said bluntly and Devere lowered the gun, hurt by the truth of it.

‘So, she does despise me,’ he concluded sadly.

‘No, quite the contrary,’ Cingar said cheerily and gave a big grin—he was an odd, but very likeable fellow.

Devere’s spirits lifted and he exited the carriage quickly to speak with the gypsy. ‘Would you take me to her?’

Cingar laughed at his proposal. ‘Hardly. I am her friend, she is my saviour and
you
have yet to convince me of your good intentions.’

‘Mr Choron.’ I thought to speak up for my dear brother.

‘Lovely lady,’ he flattered as he awarded me his full attention.

I do declare I forgot what I was going to say for a moment. ‘I have known Ashlee…Miss Winston, for ten years; there is no greater friend to her than I. Thus, I can assure you that there has been a terrible misunderstanding, and my dear friend could be in grave danger. She needs Mr Devere close to her, whether she realises it or not. Won’t you help us? Please.’

‘My lady,
you
I believe.’ Cingar pondered on my request. ‘This morning I was subjected to a clever masquerade that worked out rather well for all involved…and it gives me an idea.’

A beautiful gypsy woman joined Cingar; they must have been out walking when they spotted our carriage. He introduced his intended to us and then asked Jessenia if she would mind inviting a mysterious long-lost friend to their wedding, and motioned to Devere.

‘Mysterious?’ Devere grinned as he protested, not too comfortable with the suggestion. ‘How do you mean?’

Jessenia laughed at the prospect of disguising the English gentleman. ‘Some new clothes, another language, a mask, pierce his ear…’ She threw up her hands. ‘I would not recognise him.’

‘No,’ Devere declined. ‘My wife already feels I have deceived her, and she will see straight through a disguise.’

‘Your wife’s psychic skills are a little tainted today,’ Cingar explained. ‘Hangover.’

‘Ashlee got drunk!’ I could hardly believe it. ‘She never drinks alcohol!’

‘I am to blame,’ Cingar confessed, ‘but how fortunate for you…everything happens for a reason.’ The gypsy captain looked back to Devere, who still appeared hesitant. ‘Get close to her, get her alone, and then explain,’ Cingar said. ‘If I take you into camp as you are, Miss Winston will flee and never trust either of us again.’

Devere wrestled with the notion a bit longer and looked to me for advice.

‘What have you got to lose?’ I asked him.

‘I know about the affairs of love,’ Cingar boasted and I didn’t doubt it. ‘There is nothing like a wedding to soften a woman’s heart.’

‘It’s true.’ I seconded Cingar’s reasoning.

‘All right.’ Devere resigned himself to the plan with a smile of gratitude.

‘I feel it best that you come alone,’ Cingar advised. ‘Your companions might give you away.’

‘Not a worry.’ Lord Devere spoke up for us. ‘A couple of nights in Marseilles won’t be too hard to bear.’ My husband served me a wink. ‘We’ll leave word at the British Embassy where to find us.’

‘Give Ashlee my love,’ I requested, feeling a little teary now that our journey was drawing to a close. ‘Tell her to come and see me, once you’ve set everything to rights.’

‘Go and enjoy yourselves,’ Devere bade us. ‘I’ve ruined your honeymoon long enough.’

‘Poppycock!’ Lord Devere rejected his claim. ‘This is one holiday we shall never forget.’

The weather could not have been finer for an outdoor wedding.

There had been a few new arrivals in the camp overnight—wedding guests I was told—and among them was a masked man.

He was dressed in black, including the mask that had small slits to see by. It covered the top half of his face and tied at the back of his neck. The ponytail that sprouted from his head cover in one long curl at the nape of his neck was dark blond, and his skin was fairer than that of his gypsy companions. Still, his physique was just as fetching as any of the gypsy men’s and he seemed a carefree soul. He carried a pistol and a sword, as I did, and spoke only Italian, so he was not a Rom. His light-body was very beautiful, although there was a brooding dark mass around his heart. Judging from the extended size of his light-body I had to assume that this man was rather psychic.

‘Hmmm, interesting.’ I attended to my broth and bread. ‘What do you know about him?’ I asked Chavi who was sitting beside me.

‘He is part of the bride’s party,’ Chavi informed me, but then, gazing at the masked man, she said, ‘’Tis seldom you see a man that psychic with a broken heart.’

‘I noticed that, too. I wonder what the mask is for?’

‘He could be disfigured,’ Chavi suggested, ‘or hiding from someone.’ She seemed more disposed toward this theory. ‘Interesting, as you say.’

I’m afraid our curiosity was rather obvious, for Cingar brought the new arrival over to meet us.

‘This is my grandmother, Chavi, the woman responsible for today’s event,’ Cingar was telling the man in black. ‘And this wonderful woman saved me from the Duc de Guise…Miss Winston. Ladies, may I introduce Danior Terkari, a long-time associate of Jessenia’s family.’

‘So, you are the woman who vanquished the best swordsman in Orleans.’ Terkari took up my hand and kissed it; even his leather gloves were black. ‘This is a rare honour.’

I noticed the dark spot on the man’s heart lighten a little. I felt his attraction and it frightened and excited me at once. ‘You know all about me and yet I know nothing about you, sir.’

‘There is little in my past worth telling.’ He let go of my hand and looked at Chavi. ‘But perhaps Chavi would do me the service of telling me something of my future?’ he asked lightheartedly. ‘I have been hearing of your talent as an oracle. I would be happy to pay you, of course.’

The old gypsy’s frown lifted. ‘Would you like a private reading?’ She smiled her toothy grin.

‘I have nothing to hide.’ Terkari took a seat beside Chavi at the campfire and removed one of his gloves.

‘Then why the mask?’ I queried and was sorry that I mentioned it, because Terkari’s joviality lessened considerably.

‘I was speaking metaphorically,’ he replied, managing to regain his smile as he offered his hand to Chavi.

He must be disfigured,
I thought, and yet I was sure such a wound would register on his light-body, to some extent at least. I felt awful for raising the subject in any case, damn my curiosity. Still, remorse didn’t stop me from staying to hear what Chavi had to say about the mysterious fellow. Of course, I was tempted to peek inside his thoughts, but after my experience with Devere I decided that people’s thoughts best remained their own. If I had been any other woman, I would still be living in blissful ignorance with a man who made me deeply content and happy.

‘You are very psychic yourself,’ Chavi began, and then raised both eyebrows in surprise. ‘However…this is only a recent development for you.’

Terkari nodded to confirm this.

The old woman closed her eyes briefly, and then gasped, looking at me before her attention darted back to the man she was reading for. She seemed a little hesitant to go on.

‘Please continue,’ Terkari urged.

‘A woman’s love ails you deeply. I’ve never felt such mourning for the love of another.’ Tears filled Chavi’s eyes. ‘She has made you doubt your worthiness, but you are most worthy. She has no idea of the precious gift she has forsaken in you.’ The old gypsy let go of his hand, and sniffled back her emotions to kiss his cheek. ‘So sad, but,’ she held up a finger, ‘you will love again, and soon.’

It was a short reading, but it had me teary and even Cingar was all choked up. It was hard to tell how Terkari felt about the prediction. Was he in tears under that mask?

‘Your reassurance is a great light in my heart.’ He reached for his money pouch, but Chavi wouldn’t have it.

‘That promise comes free of charge.’ She rose and departed to ready herself for the wedding.

‘Well, that’s dampened the mood.’ Terkari attempted to disperse the heavy sentiment of the moment. ‘Curiosity killed the cat.’

‘At least it was good news.’ I encouraged him to look on the bright side and his smile warmed. Damn, now I was even more intrigued, and I felt a kind of electricity passing between us.
Oh no,
I warned myself, I
am sworn off men.

The captain made me promise to take care of his new friend. I think Cingar was trying to play matchmaker, and I didn’t need any persuasion to keep Danior Terkari company.

I had never much enjoyed singing, dancing and parties of a formal nature, but I had never before had the pleasure of attending a celebration so joyous and rowdy as this one. I danced until I was dizzy and was more deeply under the spell of my mysterious companion as every hour passed.

When evening fell the celebration showed no sign of winding up, but I swore I could not dance or laugh any more—surely it was illegal to have so much fun in one day.

The sound of guns firing raised a cry that the caravan was under attack. Panic seized my heart as horsemen began riding through the camp, firing
weapons and wielding swords. All I could think was that I didn’t have Albray’s stone on me. It was in my caravan and I immediately ran to fetch it.

Terkari called after me to stay by him, but was forced to draw his sword and engage an oncoming mounted attacker.

Between myself and my caravan a rider reared on his horse to challenge me. Without Albray, my sword was useless, so I pulled my pistol and fired across the front of the horse. The near miss startled the animal, and it threw its rider to the ground. In the commotion I darted past him.

I scampered into my caravan, only to be wrenched off my feet before reaching the stone. I kicked my attacker with my free leg, but he refused to release me and as I was dragged back to the door I held my hand out toward the stone and willed it to me with all the determination I could muster.

The item slapped into my grasp.
Albray, Albray, Albray!

I was finally yanked outside, but as my attacker turned me to face him, my being filled with all the strength and stamina of my knight.

‘A woman,’ laughed the man, surprised and delighted.

‘Oui.’
I noted he was French, so I smiled sweetly and belted him right between the eyes.

‘Miss Winston! Behind you!’ cried Terkari as he ran to my aid.

I drew my sword and turned to confront a mounted opponent charging at full speed toward me. To my surprise he did not raise a weapon against me, but was reaching out to grab hold of me. Albray did not hesitate to take his lower arm off as he passed, and he rode from the camp screaming.

‘Are you all right?’ Terkari reached me, looking stunned that a woman could strike such a blow.

No, I was not all right, but, thankfully, I did not have control of my body. ‘Never better,’ replied Albray on my behalf. ‘And you? Duck!’

Terkari had quick reflexes. He dropped to one knee and Albray engaged the sword of the man we had punched earlier. It didn’t take long for Albray to disarm the fellow and with a kick up the behind, Albray sent him running after his handless friend.

Terkari had grabbed the discarded sword and was in the process of fending off two swordsmen at once.
Fairly impressive,
Albray mused quietly, but I heard him and those were my sentiments exactly. We were hesitant to give Terkari any assistance, as he seemed to be having too much fun.

I heard the hooves too late to turn and I was snatched up into the air by one of the riders. He was surprised to be belted so hard and dropped me on the ground.

‘Come on,’ Albray challenged, sword raised and ready to strike, as the rider turned his horse around. ‘You can be handless, just like your friend.’

Clearly the bandits were losing the battle, and as most of his associates had already withdrawn, the rider wisely decided not to accept Albray’s offer.

A loud cheer sounded from the gypsy camp as the bandits were driven off. Albray departed my form at once, leaving my heart thumping in my throat and my body shaking from the shock.

‘Miss Winston.’ Terkari was at my side at once and caught me up when my knees threatened to buckle beneath me. ‘You need to lie down.’

I nodded to agree and pointed him toward my caravan.

Unwittingly, I had placed myself in a very compromising position.

There I was, laid out on my bed, Terkari seated beside me wiping my head with a damp cloth. I was noting how gentle he was for a man so fearless, noble and forbearing in spirit—all fine qualities that I had never seen in Devere.

‘The day has been rather enjoyable apart from that last adventure,’ he commented.

‘Yes…I haven’t had so much fun in forever.’ I looked away for only a second as I considered how true my statement was and when I glanced back his lips were but a breath away. I wanted to return his kiss and put Devere from my mind forever, but when it came right down to it, I urged Terkari back. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, don’t be,’ he assured me rather oddly, as if he was more relieved than bothered by my rejection.

‘Please don’t be offended…as much as I don’t want to be, I am a married woman.’ I was relieved to get that off my chest. When would I learn to kill these attractions before they started and not wait until they burned out of control? ‘I still love him, you see.’ A tear escaped my eye and I brushed it away, frustrated by how much Devere haunted me.

‘Then why do you persist in keeping us apart when it makes us both so miserable?’ Terkari said in English and I recognised his voice.

The shock struck me witless a second. ‘Devere?’

He removed the mask and forced a very sweet smile.

‘Are you testing me?’ I was referring to the kiss and shoved him off my bed.

‘I forgot that I wasn’t myself for an instant,’ he defended.

‘Did you have anything to do with that attack?’ I demanded, getting to my feet. Now that I thought about it, I didn’t see the attackers take anything. They looked more like they were searching for something. ‘Those men seemed awfully keen to cart me off somewhere.’

‘Yes, I noticed,’ Devere impressed on me. ‘They belonged to the Order of Sion, which I have nothing to do with. Perhaps your friend in Paris sent them after you.’

I took offence at his tone and implication. ‘Molier locked me in a room on your behalf,’ I pointed out, glad that he’d raised the subject of Christian Molier. ‘So, whose friend was he again?’

‘Please, Ashlee,’ Devere appealed, weary of fighting. ‘I have pursued you for weeks just to talk to you. Won’t you please hear what I have to say?’

‘And how do I know you are not just feeding me more lies?’ I was angry as I recalled why I had left him. ‘Keep her safe, Devere. Learn about her, learn from her and keep me posted. If you can
please
this woman, you will become a very powerful man!’

Devere was devastated that I had perceived that particular memory. ‘I know it looks bad, but you were my choice. I was fighting for your hand in marriage long before you ever knew I existed.’

The fire in his eyes struck at my heart and I crumpled. ‘I so want to believe you…’

‘Then take my hand, scan my mind and know it all,’ he offered, ‘just as Chavi did.’

‘I
am the woman that she was speaking of.’ Recalling Chavi’s reading, my tears welled again. That was why he’d had Chavi read for him in front
of me when they’d first met, so that I would know it had not been prearranged—not that any amount of money would cause Chavi to betray me. Devere had been clever enough to know that there was no better assertion of his love—I would always believe the word of a fellow psychic. I had been touched by Chavi’s description of this man’s deep feelings for his beloved and I forgot my anger, suspicion and pride, and kissed him.

‘I didn’t know that you suspected my Grand Master of killing Hereford,’ he confessed between kisses. ‘I swear to you, I would never have allowed it.’

‘I believe you,’ I assured him, encouraging him to cease talking and free his lips for other pursuits.

In retrospect, it was a great relief that Devere and Terkari were one and the same man, for now I could have the pleasure of loving them both.

I did adore life this morning.

To awake warm and snug in my lover’s arms held a kind of security that I’d never envisaged before. For the first time in my life I understood what home really meant and, instead of feeling trapped as I always imagined I would, I felt a deep sense of belonging and contentment.

It was most fortunate that everyone in the gypsy camp was so inebriated during the wedding celebrations, as we emerged from my caravan to hear talk of objects being spotted floating around my abode late last night.

I’m sure the red flush on our cheeks did not increase people’s faith in our plea of disbelief.

‘You know, I believe you folks need to abstain from the drink for a while,’ I said, to take the heat off us.

‘Yes.’ Devere backed me up. ‘I fear the excitement has gone to your heads.’ He wound a finger around beside his ear, to imply they had all gone a little loopy.

Chavi approached me, looking pleased that Devere was unmasked this morning, and I noticed her son was headed our way too. ‘I told you love would catch up with you,’ the old gypsy ribbed me.

‘Yes, you did,’ I was happy to concede.

‘You both hang on tighter from now on,’ she suggested, and we both assured her that we intended to follow her advice. Chavi wandered off to be about her chores.