The Gypsy Queen (34 page)

  “Making love
to you is my paradise,
Yana
,” he said.

  “As it is mine. We will talk soon. For now, let us have one more carefree night.”

  “And so we shall,” he said. “Will you accompany me to the hall?” he said, holding his arm out.
Yana
took his arm, and let him lead her out.

  “
Bar Valo
,”
Yana
said. “You look delicious. I could devour you,” she said, her voice full of lust.

  “Not if I consume you first, little gypsy,” Bastion said, equally full of desire for her.

  “Not tonight, my King,” she said. “Tonight, you are mine.”

___________________________

The Gypsy Queen- CHAPTER 20- “two”

  Bastion entered the hall with
Yana
on his arm.

  “Citizens of
Jedikai
, welcome the King- King Bastion!” the Chamberlain announced loudly.

  A cheer went up as the crowd saw them come in. Instead of going to his table, the King made his way through the hall,
Yana
on his arm. They greeted the guests, reaching out hands in greeting, acknowledging the visitors. The crowd was enthusiastic, showing love to the young King and the gypsy hero
ine
that accompanied him. The palace musicians played the King’s song, upbeat and lively.

  Bastion and
Yana
took their seats, after working the room and greeting the people. The food and drink was brought out, and the crowd buzzed happily.

  “Bastion,”
Yana
leaned in, “why did he only introduce you, and not me?”

  “It would not be proper custom for him to do so unless you were queen,” Bastion said.
Yana
frowned. “Besides, you need no introduction. Everyone in the
kingdom
knows who you are.”
Yana
understood, but did not like it anyway. She decided not to let it ruin her night. She had too much else to do.
Yana
took a few healthy sips of wine, and got up from her seat. The queen’s seat.
Yana
looked at it, and at Bastion.

  “Excuse me, your majesty,”
Yana
said formally, and left the table. The King dined with Otta, Nico and Nathaniel, good old Obadiah, and some of the foreign visitors.

  “How is our project coming along?” he asked Obadiah.

  “Coming along well, Sire,” Obadiah replied. “Soon, people will be able to tell what it is!”

  “Well done,” Bastion said. “You do outstanding work.”

  “Thank you, Sire. Where is
Yana
?” he asked, looking around. Bastion noticed that she had been gone a while. He hoped she was not annoyed at the formalities; it was part of what they needed to talk about.

  “Gone to freshen up, I imagine,” Bastion said. He looked to the servant girl.

  “Della, right?” Bastion said to her. Della was amazed and flattered that the King remembered her name.

  “Yes, your majesty,
” she said.

  “Have you seen
Yana
?”

  “Yes, your majesty,” she said, trying to keep her composure.

  “Where is she?” he asked.

  “She has asked me not to say, Sire.” Bastion was irritated. How could she go from being so alluring and playful to such annoyance that she would leave his side? He wanted her next to him. He decided to stay put.

  “I believe you will see her soon, your majesty,” Della said. Bastion said nothing, and Della retreated back to the galley. More time went by, and still no
Yana
. Bastion was displeased, but carried on with the men at the table just as well. He would not be beholden to her whims. Not ever.

  The musicians finished their song, and each of them began playing tambourines, all together in a tinny beat. The crowd turned their attention at the sound, only to see a tent moving towards them. It was not large, and the fabric covering was airy and light,
yet
still concealing its contents.

  When the tent came into position, it stopped, and the musicians stopped their beat. The drummer played a fancy, drawn out pattern on his big bass drum, and at the last strike, Mille popped out of the tent with a flourish.

  “Behold, my King! Behold, citizens! A special night for all!” Mille said. She was wearing her most ridiculous hat, and a costume bursting with color. Her eyes were painted around in red and black, instead of the full face-paint that she usually wore.

  “Many roads, I have known, and many places I call home,” she began.

“The
kingdom
we all live and love, but other lands we still dream of.”

“And so I sing this song for you: I wish I was not one, but two!” The musicians started their introduction, as Bastion looked around. He wished Yana was here
;
she would be upset to miss this. Mille was in good form.

“How good and sweet my life would be

If there were simply two of me

A traveling one, to seek and roam

and a
peaceful one, to stay at home!”

  Mille danced about, deliberate and joyous, as she sang.

“a searching one with open eyes

to see the biggest, widest skies

while happy homestead things are done

by my contented other one

and therein does my problem lie

for the traveling me does vie

for crazy risks and moving feet

for stormy skies and winds of fleet

for oceans with their salty smell

for lust and drink, they cast their spell

yet chained to happy, carefree me

my second self resists to flee

it does not like the urge to move

I wish I was not one, but two!”

At that, a second jester popped out of the tent next to Mille, dressed exactly like her. Looking like twins, they were indistinguishable to Bastion, and the crowd. Same ridiculous hat, too. They moved in perfect unison, as Mille continued her song.

“My quiet side, it loves routine

that habits make, and same old scenes

of home and hearth and candlelight

with books and chairs, all set just right

of tiny treasures, on the shelf

and a garden for my homey self

And all along my restless side

It wants to go on every ride”

Bastion peered closer. It couldn’t be. Could it?

“I cannot stop my roaming one

who always wants to have more fun

who wants to sail on every tide

the dreams of each of us inside

like fighting cocks, my two sides brawl

and I can find no peace at all!

One face turns to road and track

The other face looks always back

I move to madness from the strain

the two of me pulled tight and twain

I say go, and yet I stay

I choose ‘aye’, and I choose ‘nay’

One self wants to be a wife

and one self wants the drifter’s life

The restless me, it always wins

Oh that I could be but twins

I wish I did not have to choose

I wish I was not one, but two!”

  The two jesters finished frozen, on the last beat of the song, lifting their hats, letting their hair spill out. The c
rowd erupted in applause, realizing it was
Mille and
Yana
together, smiling as wide as can be.
Yana
was thrilled. The number came off perfectly.

  From down the hall, a new sound came. A thumping beat that Bastion recognized as the djembe. Gypsy drums. The girls moved with the beat and retreated back into the mysterious tent in the center of the hall.

  The drums grew louder, as a parade of single file gypsies marched slowly in. They were dressed in their best attire, with the drums leading. They were followed by three gypsies who began to play their flutes, as they neared their place. The violins joined in next, and the palace musicians joined in with their tambourines. They reached a crescendo, and stopped all together on a final beat. Silence followed the echo of the sound, as the entire hall looked on intently.

  With a whoosh, the tent colla
psed, as four men in costume
retreated quickly, leaving four gypsies in the middle, in full dancing garb- Mille, Yana, Emilee, and Luba.

  The band struck up their song,
Yana
’s favorite, and the King and many others stood up in surprise. They began to move slowly, only the slow jingle of tambourines starting them off, accompanied by castanets. Bastion was stunned. It was the dance they did for him at the campfire!

 
Yana
and Mille moved seductively, as Emilee and Luba backed them up in succinct perfection. They shook their hips to the beat, as the deeper drums joined in.

Their movements picked up, as they shimmied and stepped, gliding their hips to the rhythm.
Yana
and Mille played off each other, dancing as partners, and Emilee and Luba began to clap, drawing the crowd in to stand and clap with them.

  They moved with a beauty and precision that left Bastion speechless, and every soul in the room was rapt, trying to take in every image, every step, every shake. The gypsy band built up to a resounding cadence, matching the girls stride for stride.
Yana
and Mille romanced the crowd, enticing every man and woman among them to fall in love.

  Bastion focused on
Yana
, finding her irresistible. Her torso moved with strength and grace, her hands caresse
d the air with Mille, as though
they were weaving a story, a tale of gypsy magic, as the song seemed to speak without words, along with them.

  The four of them joined each other, moving in and out between each other seamlessly. The smiles on their faces and the look in their eyes showed ecstasy and skill, as they seduced the Great Hall entirely. They pulled away from each other, and into each other, just as the song Mille sang had suggested.

  Finally, the song concluded, each of them pressing their backs in together, so that they all faced outward,
Yana
facing the King directly, and the last note rang out.
Yana
winked at Bastion, exulting in their gypsy dance. The hall exploded with applause and cheer, like
Yana
had never known. Bastion felt a bit sheepish- he had been frustrated with her, thinking she had left the table for a poor reason. Instead, she was glorious, and shined so brightly among her friends, and among the citizens, that she seemed to glow. Bastion was fully enamoured of her, wondering how she kept setting new heights of allure, beauty, and mischief all at once.

  The party wound down, and
Yana
had outdone herself entirely. If she had made a name for herself doing battle alongside the black riders, she had done it all over again, delightfully shocking everyone in attendance, including the King himse
lf. Bastion had
to appreciate her ability to win over an audience. She would make an excellent queen, he was certain of it. He was even more certain that he wanted no other.

 
Yana
worked the room after her dance, even better than she had upon their entrance. She cut her own trail in Bastion’s
kingdom
, just as she had done her whole life. Bastion admired that about her- the same could not be said for the local would-be queens of
Jedikai
or daughters of other kings.

 
Yana
approached him, making her way across the hall. Bastion had gotten up to engage the attendees as well, but rather than be swarmed with well-wishers, it was
Yana
who was encircled. Bastion was not overlooked, but rather, balanced, by
Yana
’s presence.