The Gypsy Queen (21 page)

  She raised her hands above her head and pulled Bastion’s face down to her, to kiss him. She took in the reassurance of his kiss, kissing him harder, like she was hungry for it, and in her profound joy that he was there. Bastion finally leaned back to check her wound again.

  “Bastion,”
Yana
said, “why the hell are you naked?”

  “They took my clothes!” he said with a laugh. “I wanted to get dressed, but I thought I should stop by first.”

  “So you just come to me unannounced, wielding blades, stark naked? Is that what it’s come to?”

  Bastion was relieved to see her mischievous grin.

  “I’m afraid so. I am a notorious scoundrel, it would seem,” he said.

  “Not as bad as some,”
Yana
said, her thoughts turning serious as she looked towards the tent entrance. The camp was quiet.

  “Tuvia saved us,” Bastion said.

 
Yana
laid back and let out a deep breath of gratitude. Tuvia’s job was to go to the cage where the black riders were being held, and give them the tools they needed to break out. She had not been sure
if he would make it; he was
in very bad shape. Yana had forgotten him entirely when she was facing
Volga
just minutes earlier. Everything happened so fast, as she replayed their assault in her mind.

  “You rest here,” Bastion said. “I will be right back,” he said, departing.
Yana
looked over at the giant body laying motionless next to her, and that feeling of dread made her close her eyes. She drifted back in her mi
nd to the feeling of Bastion, l
ying on top of her, absorbing her anguish. She loved that man. Her hand wandered down to her wound, where she pressed on it, trying to see how bad it was.

  Bastion came back to the tent, this time fully dressed. He began gathering up some of the documents that were strewn about
Volga
’s table. Nathaniel came in and helped, not saying a word. He took the documents and departed, and Bastion came to
Yana
.

  “We need to get you up. We are leaving Kaffa, leaving right now,” he said.
Yana
tried to comply, getting up slowly. Bastion knelt down and scooped her up, carrying her in his arms, as she let out a moan of pain.

  “What... what happened out here?”
Yana
asked.

  “Tuvia brought us the lock kit, after you caused all that trouble. We got free and stormed the last few traders that you missed.”

  “I missed nothing, Captain,”
Yana
insisted. Indeed she had not. Every arrow had hit clean. “If I just had another few minutes, I’d have gotten them all.”

  Bastion had to smile at that. The girl had talent.

  The black riders were moving quickly to get the captives freed and onto
Volga
’s ship. They had seen the action too, and were thanking the riders profusely, slowing down the process of getting them all on the ship.

 
Yana
wrapped her arms around Bastion’s neck as he carried her. It hurt, but she did not care.

  “We made it,” she said. “We did it. We saved everyone.” Bastion did not reply. He hustled her onto the ship, stepping across the short plank onto the deck. The captives were piling on board, grabbing whatever they could, and the black riders were doing much the same.

  “Where is Tuvia?”
Yana
asked as Bastion carried her. “I want to thank him. He saved us all.” Bastion looked grim.

  “Tuvia died,” he said. “He got to the cage and collapsed before we could even get free to help him.”

 
Yana
could feel her face twist and her chest tighten as the tears were coming again. What a terrible cost, she thought, to lose him. Sacrificing his life for his
Captain, his leader, and
a bunch of strangers.

  “He did save us all,” Bastion said. “So did you,
Yana
.”

  Bastion set her in a small bunk on the main deck. This ship was larger and nicer than the one they had sailed to Kaffa on. Most of the freed captives milled around the main deck, and Bastion addressed them.

  “We must be underway now! I need every able body on the oars to get us out of the harbor. Once we return to
Jedikai
we will give each of you an armed escort back to your homes and families. My men are in charge! Do as directed and we will all be home soon! Go, go, go!”

  Bastion and his men directed everyone down below to the oars, except for two aged women that were not well enough. The boat began to move out of the harbor. Ba
stion brought the two women in to
Yana
,
in the small bunks where he had set her.

  “I want you two to look after
Yana
. She has a knife wound in her side, but it doesn’t look too bad. Can you help her?” Both the women nodded. Bastion left without another word, and returned with supplies. He spilled them out onto the floor, holding too many things in an awkward load. Bandages, food, everything he could find. He left
Yana
there with the two women, and took the helm.

  The ship was not directed to open sea, but along the coastline. A few miles up, they came upon the Panzar, secured where they had left it, at an empty beach. Bastion went to Nathaniel.

  “I want you to get on board, kill the trader we left down below, and set fire to the ship, as quickly as you can,” he ordered.

  “Yes sir,” he said. Nathaniel removed his cloak a
nd some
of his clothing, and dove into the chilly sea. Bastion watched as Nathaniel swam up to it, climbed up a mooring rope, and boarded it. Very soon he saw him running across the deck, and then he stood at the edge. He lit a lamp and tossed it on the deck, igniting all the oil he had spread. He jumped down to the
little rowboat d
inghy
tied to the Panzar and rowed back, as the ship
engulfed in flame.

  Bastion looked above and waved a signal, and the sail blossomed and opened as it was released by his man on the mast, and Nathaniel climbed aboard on a rope as Bastion swung the ship about, finally headed west for
Jedikai
.

  Bastion looked out to the horizon, gratified that they had accomplished their mission, and grieved for the loss of his man. He had lost two men the night
Yana
saved them in the gulley. Soon, he thought, we
will honor them and their sacrifice
.

  Nathaniel approached him, wrapped in black, using his cloak to try and get warm and dry.

  “Well done, Nathaniel,” Bastion said.

  “Captain, there was a problem,” he replied.

  “What problem?”

  “The ship is burning, clear enough. But the captive, down below- he was gone,” he said.

  “Gone?” Bastion asked.

  “Escaped. No sign of him.” he confirmed. A troubled look came across Bastion’s face.

  “Do you think he survived, Captain? Does he know who we are?” Nathaniel asked.

  “For all of
Jedikai
,” Bastion said, “
I hope not.”

Bastion left Nathaniel at the wheel on
c
e they were at sea, headed into clear skies and open water. He went to look in on
Yana
.

  “How is she?” he asked, inquiring of the women looking after her. “She is well,” the older one said. “We gave her a poultice for the wound, and we found some lavender oil that will help her sleep. She is eating, and that is good.”

  “Bastion,”
Yana
called out. Bastion was already coming to sit with her.

  “How are you, little gypsy?” he asked.
Yana
was eating some bread that the women had given her.
Yana
kept chewing, instead of answering. She motioned with her finger to come closer. Bastion drew in closer. She motioned closer again, and he moved in closer, becoming curious.

 
Yana
leaned up suddenly and punched Bastion in the arm as hard as she could. Bastion took the blow and leaned backwards. It didn’t really hurt, but it certainly surprised him.

  “That,” she said, “was for throwing that bread
on the floor in the
cantina and making me eat it!”

  Bastion broke out into laughter, recalling how well she had sold the ac
t of
being his slave girl. He thought about how f
urious she must have been while
she ate, not able to say anything. The thought of it made him laugh even harder, and
Yana
began to laugh with him. Doing that just t
o fool
with her was the funniest thing he could remember, and he laughed until his eyes watered.

 
Yana
pulled him into a kiss, as he tried to settle down, and kissed him sweetly.

  “And that,” she said, “is for dropping by unannounced, naked and armed.”

  “It was my pleasure, young gypsy,” Bastion said. “You,” he added, “
You
are my pleasure.
You did good.
”

 
Yana
’s mind wandered quickly where she did not want it to. She knew she would still have to leave the
kingdom
, after she got back to her caravan. She thought she might see the King once more, to satisfy her promise to him, and to try and plead the case of the gypsies. It would be better for them if the city folk would show them more respect as a people.

  For the moment,
Yana
had a dressed wound, a full belly, and a sleepy head... and the company of a man she had a swirl of emotions for. Admiration.
Fear. Lust. Adoration. She expressed
them all, without words, kissing him once more as they sailed towards
Jedikai
.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Degonyat was a tall and fearsome man. He looked through the trader camp with a look of disgust, kicking debris out of his way. He was angry, and he wished he could kick all the bodies out of his way too.
He wondered how many there were,
stroking his beard.

  He looked in the tent, where
Volga
laid on his side with two knives buried into his back. He shook his head.
Volga
had always done a good job staying out of trouble, he thought. Degonyat did not know of anyone who was after
Volga
, but slave trading was a profession that created enemies, and he knew that very well.

  He walked back outside, looking for clues, as were some of his men. He saw one of
Volga
’s boys with an arrow shot directly into his mouth. He reached down to try and tug it out. Pulling harder, he set his foot on the man’s head for leverage. The barbs of the arrow held, and he found himself tugging around the dead man’s head, so he gave up. Seeing his dilemma, one of his own men brought him another arrow just like it- bloody, but at least not wedged into a head.

  Degonyat peered at it, trying to remember where he had seen such an arrow. There was no other evidence of who could have done this thing in his town. The traders were all killed, the captives were all gone, and so was the ship
Volga
had arrived in. He stewed on that a while, getting more and more angry with every breath. That was
his
ship. Degonyat was head of the entire slave trade in Kaffa, master of the auctions, and everyone answered to him. Every trader paid him a tributary tax on their profits.

 
Volga
, his underling, had run afoul of the wrong people. A thought crossed his mind. There was only one other time he had se
en a slaughter like this, an expert
assassination. Some feared them, but he thought that if they existed at all, they were cowards, killing in the night, instead of with a good army like his.

  “Degonyat,” a man shouted. It was his second-in-command,
Bari
. He was dragging a man along with him, a man dressed in rags. They hurried up the path to him.

  “This man,” said
Bari
, “he saw them. He saw the ones who did it.”

  The man spoke up immediately. “They set fire to the Panzar, and took your other boat! They captured me and held me but I escaped. They burned down
Tatu
Castle
too! I saw them when they overtook us there.”

  Degonyat looked at him fiercely. “They burned down Tatu?!” he shouted. Burned my trade ship, stole my flagship, took all my slaves and killed these men?