The Gypsy Queen (42 page)

 
Yana
stepped back, and ran her hands through the periwinkle. The planters were huge, and the plants were healthy. Their smell was mild and pleasant... a lowly plant, but still inviting. Many meadows she had walked, through little flowers just like these. 

  The door creaked, and
Yana
heard the beam being lifted. Instinctively, she reacted by hiding behind the big planters. She wiggled back into them as far as she could.

  “I know, Otta!” Bastion’s voice rang out into the chamber. Otta followed him in.

  “We have obligations,” Otta said. “We cannot ignore them.”
Yana
heard the door shut, and tried to peek out. She could see nothing. The only voices in the room seemed to be Bastion and Otta.

  “The citizens that prosper this
kingdom
are upset,” Otta said, “They will undermine your Kingship if you do not win them over.”

  “And how should I win them over?” Bastion demanded. “Supplicate to them? Am I not the King?”

  “They hate the gypsies,” Otta said. “Perhaps it is time to clear out the west meadows and send them on their way.”

  “Cave in to their pressure? When I don’t agree? They will lose all respect for me. Then they will try to push me around even more. I will not have it.”

  “What would you do, then?” Otta asked.

  “I could start closing the city gates at night,” Bastion said. “Would that satisfy them?”

  “No, no,” Otta replied. “That would insult the gypsies and alarm the citizens needlessly.”

  “I thought you didn’t care about the gypsies.”

  “I care about the greatest good, King Bastion. I care about this
kingdom
being run properly. I
care about order!” he retorted
.

  “Order?!” Bastion shot back. “I can bring order by putting those pompous bastards in their place!”

  “And risk mutiny,” Otta finished.

  “How many kings have faced rebellion?” Bastion said. “All of them! I will face it, but I will not fear it!”

  “You are so much like your father,” Otta said. “So stubborn.” Otta walked closer to where
Yana
was hiding. The authority in Bastion’s voice was passionate to the point of intimidating.
Yana
’s fear of Bastion swelled as she remembered how mighty and powerful he was as Captain. His power excited her, even as it terrified her.

  “What of
Yana
?” Otta said. “You have caused great unrest by choosing a gypsy as your queen.”

  “Damn them! Damn the unrest! I would just as well plunge a dagger into every one of them in the dark!” Bastion raged.
Yana
trembled at the sound.

  “You are not a black rider anymore. You are the King. And black riders don’t ride against their own citizens.”

  “The same citizens that would undermine me for choosing the finest woman in the
kingdom
I could possibly choose?”

  “They do not see the choice so wisely,” Otta said.

  “Then they are fools.”

  “Fools they may be,” Otta conceded, “but they are powerful fools.” Otta was growing weary of Bastion’s refusal to listen.

  “They would not be the first powerful fools who I will have killed in their sleep,” Bastion said. “But I would rather wake them, so they know why their blood escapes them as they die.” The fury and murder in Bastion’s voice chilled
Yana
to the bone.

  “You would kill respected citizens of
Jedikai
, just to defend a gypsy woman?” Otta said.

  “She is not a ‘gypsy woman’,” Bastion said. “She is a woman. The gypsies are people, just like any other.”

  “With due respect, my good King,” Otta said, “The gypsies have a reputation for theft and mayhem, and you know it. Your queen is no exception. On top of that, she is a
woman
, which brings its own set of troubles. You know it. Your father knew it, too.”

  “Stop bringing my father into this!” Bastion said.

  “And what of the rumors of
Yana
herself?” Otta asked. “Did you not tell me that the gypsy man in the parade suggested that she was bad news?”

  “You know that flea-ridden gypsy filth holds no stock with me.”

  “Yes, well, that gypsy filth knows
Yana
,” Otta said. “They have some kind of history.” Bastion was furious.

  “Would you have me eject her from the city? Call everything off?” Otta did not respond, but stayed silent. His silence spoke volumes.

  “Maybe it’s you I should eject from the city, Uncle Otta!”

  “I am trying to help you, my King,” Otta said. “We must not be rash.”

  “Are you my advocate, or do you represent my enemies?” Bastion demanded.

  “I am your advocate,” Otta said. “I am loyal to the
kingdom
.”

  “Are you loyal to me?” Bastion asked directly.

  “Yes,” he said without hesitation.

  Bastion paced the throne room like a caged lion.

  “Then find a solution,” Bastion ordered.

  “I assure you, I am working on a solution,” Otta said. “Forgive me, Sire, but we are supposed to meet with Obadiah shortly.”

  “Let us be off
then,” Bastion said. “H
e will have some insight.” They left the throne room with haste, leaving the door ajar.

 
Yana
sat alone, in shock.

  She made for the door, when they had gone, and looked around the throne room one more time. She expected she would not see it again. She shut the door, and the thick beam swung down into place firmly.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 
Yana
waited in the King’s chamber, apprehensive beyond measure. Her things were gathered and packed. She desired to sneak out, sneak away, but she could not. She owed Bastion the respect to face him. She was saddened that things had fallen apart so quickly, but it was better this way. Even Draiman had said that her failure would be ruinous for the gypsies. It would be a disaster for
Yana
to stay, and cause Bastion to fail. He had tried to assure
Yana
that they would not fail.
Yana
at least needed to make sure that
he
would not, even at her own terrible cost. She was in the biggest mess of her life, without a doubt, and she wanted out of it. The evening sun had set, when Bastion finally came in.

  “Bastion,”
Yana
said. She choked up immediately, all her rehearsed statements giving way to her emotions. Bastion embraced her.

  “What is it,
Yana
?” She tried to right herself.

  “I cannot stay.”

  “What? What do you mean?” Bastion said, confused.

  “I cannot be your queen,”
Yana
said. Bastion let go, stumbling backwards in disbelief. He searched for words, as he searched the expression on her face.

  “It is not going to work. This is too much. I don’t belong here,” she said. She put her hand over her mouth, as she saw the pain in his eyes. His aura throbbed red and gold. She had to look away.

  “You
do
belong here,” Bastion insisted. “I want you here.”

  “No one else does,”
Yana
said. “I have heard enough to know that. If I stay, I will only make you stumble.  The best way I can love you is to leave,” she said.

  “That- that is madness!” Bastion protested. “You mean to help me by leaving?”

  “Yes.”
Yana
could feel his pain in the air between them. “I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I love you.”

  “Ya tebya lublu,” Bastion said in return, causing tears to well up in her eyes.

  “I
do
love you,” she whimpered. “Love was never our problem.”

  “So, my citizens have lost faith in me, and now, you.” Bastion glowered with hurt and anger in his face.

  “That is not right,”
Yana
replied. “It’s me, too. I don’t want to be chained to this palace in golden shackles.”

  “There are no shackles here,” Bastion said.

  “You say it yourself- the King is a servant to the people. I would serve you, Bastion. I would be your wife, but... being a queen is a job. An office. I am a gypsy. It looks a lot like being a slave to me- just like the ones we rescued.”

  “You insult me, that I would enslave people, even as you have seen me fight to free them, my whole
life?” Bastion was menacing, using
the voice he used in the throne room.
Yana
cast herself to her knees.

  “Forgive me, my King,”
Yana
sobbed. She did not know what to do. Her instinct to flee was only thwarted by her subjection before him.

  “The difference between the slaves I set free, and the citizens I bring into subjection
,
is a stark one,” Bastion said. “The difference is, those that subject themselves to me, do so voluntarily. They are not forced.”

  “Are not all the citizens required to submit to your authority?”
Yana
said, trying to steady herself.

  “Yes, they are. Those that will not are free to leave the
kingdom
.”

  “Then that is what I must do,”
Yana
said.

  “Am I not your King?” Bastion said. “Did you not accept me as such?”

  “You will always be my King, Bastion. But I cannot be your queen. I must be free.” Bastion paced the floor, sorting out his thoughts as well as he could. His
heart ached with pain and panic
. He summoned all his disciplines of leadership, as he struggled.

  “So, if you stay, for my sake, it will bring you misery?”
Yana
could not reply. It sounded awful, they way he said it.

  “You cannot live under my rule?”

  “There are no rules, in love,”
Yana
said bitterly.

  “Yes, there are,” Bastion said.

  “No. It is not the gypsy way,”
Yana
said. “I love you without rules.”

 
“Then your love is like a fire
. You can build nothing with it.
Only burn.
Love within rules is like a stone. Something you can build on.”

  “Gypsies do not build,”
Yana
said.

  “They run,” Bastion finished bitterly. “Just like the wind. Just like you did when
Volga
captured us in Kaffa.”

  “How dare you!”
Yana
shouted. “I came back
and saved your life
!”

  “Only to slay me here in my own chambers.”
Yana
’s mouth hung open in shock at his words. She hung her head.

  “Sometimes love can be mistaken for a crime,” she said.

  “You love me without rules,” he said. “How cruel.” Bastion regretted the words immediately. He could see that
Yana
wanted to go. Her things were packed. He did not want to cage her like a slave. He just wanted to love her, build a life with her. But his life was here, and hers was not. It never was. It would be selfish and childish for him to do anything else but let her go. He decided to make it easy on her.

  “You are free to go,
Yana
,” he said. He said it as a King to a subject.
Yana
stood up and looked him in the eye. Bastion stepped closer. He could not believe how much he loved his precious gypsy girl. Well, not his anymore. She never was. He could not believe she was leaving. He was falling apart, and the more the pain gripped his heart, the more stoic his face became.

  “I love you, but if you cannot set yourself next to me, then there is nothing else I can do for you, but release you. If this is the best that you can do, then perhaps it is best that you leave, anyway,” he said.

  “Damn you,”
Yana
said, and slapped his face.

  “I give the orders around here,” Bastion said.

  “Command me to stay,”
Yana
challenged him.

  “I shall not.”

  “I have to go,” she said, choked up again. “It is over. I’m sorry.”

 
Yana
was devastated. She had said her piece, and did not want any more hurtful words. She loved Bastion dearly, and she was hurting more deeply than she ever had in her young life. She grabbed up her things, and fled the room.