The Gypsy Queen (5 page)

  The steps of the dance allowed
Yana
to step quite closely to Bastion, and she let her bare stomach tighten right before him within her movements, yet pretended to ignore Bastion as she did it. Emilee, finally, allowed her dance to wind herself down to one knee, followed by Luba, and then
Yana
, perfectly behind them. The drummers looking on watched for their cue, and wrapped up their last few beats as the girls finished.
Yana
cast her eyes to the ground, just as she had taught the girls to do along with her. The crowd cheered and clapped, and the music struck back up again, this time just the drums, and someone playing the flute along with them.

 
Yana
got up from her dance and hugged Emilee and Luba. “
Kushti nevo
!” she encouraged them in Romany. She couldn’t remember a time they had danced so well, and she was pleased. The look on Bastion’s face was worth a satchel full of gold! She left the scene, as the young girls stayed to dance with others, and
Yana
headed back for her wagon. Bastion headed for her as she went.

  “
Yana
,” Bastion said, as they approached the wagon, “your dance was lovely.”
Yana
smiled at him.

 
“Thank you,” she said gracefully.

  “Will you come sit with me a while?” he asked.

  “Aye. We will find a fire,”
Yana
said. She wrapped herself with a cloak that was more suitable for the cool spring night. They wandered over to a fire on the fringe of the ca
mp. No one was tending it at that
moment, so they sat next to it. Bastion stoked the fire a bit, and added wood to it, bringing back a host of memories...

  Bastion had been rescued
by
Yana
,
as a youth, and
was
cared for by the gypsies. He had been unconscious for two days after being struck by lightning, and they had stayed in a cave
Yana
found after the storm. The gypsies tended Bastion’s burns with herbs and oils, after they found them, and he had healed well, save for a faint scar on his chest.

  He traveled with them a while, because he had already been a good distance from the
kingdom
, and the gypsies traveled even further with him before they realized who he was.

Heir to the throne.

  Bastion’s father was the King of the great city of
Jedikai
, and the surrounding
kingdom
. That made Bastion a prince, but he had always tried to shirk that label. He took his place in the palace, and loved his work serving his father the King. He just didn’t feel like a prince. He was Captain within their small army, and that suited him just fine.

  The gypsies had delivered him back to the
kingdom
as a child, but not before they had shared their music and their lives with him a while.
Yana
became swift friends with him. He was older than she, and bigger, but she had dragged him through the mud to safety that first night, and had been his immediate caretaker following it, taught and guided b
y Lyubov. The music and community
of the gypsies held a special place in his heart ever since. They showed him great kindness, especially
Yana
.

  They stoked fires together for those few short weeks, and were inseparable.
Yana
had been aching at the loss of her parents, and Bastion was in no hurry to leave her. The fire tonight reminded him of that, and the silence that lingered a while between them this night
intimated
that both of them were reflecting back on those times. It was difficult for
Yana
, as she had lost her parents, and Bastion always reminded her
of that... and then
she
had
lost Bastion as well
,
when he returned home.

  They sat next to each other rather close at the fire, knowing it would help them speak quietly, and not be overheard.

  Bastion spoke first. “I believe a thanks is in order,” he said.

 
Yana
played dumb. “A thanks? For the dance? That will do for now, but the next one’s going to cost you,” she said.

  Bastion nodded. “The dance was exceptional,
Yana
,” he replied. “But I do believe you may have saved my life again.”

  “I’m not
that
good of a dancer,” she joked.

  “What in the lands were you doing there in the gulley,
Yana
?” he asked.

  “I spotted you. I tracked you,” she replied. “I couldn’t help it. I knew it was you, even in the dark.”

  Bastion nodded. They had looked each other in the eyes unmistakably, before she had fled. She looked him in the eyes once more.

  “I am glad you survived,” she said.

  Bastion nodded again. “As am I,” he said, smiling. “I do not know if we would have fared so well without your intervention,
Yana
,” he continued.

 
Yana
looked away. “You shouldn’t be here, Bastion,” she said.

  “And you should not have been in that gulley,
Yana
, but here we are anyway,” Bastion replied.

  “Why don’t you go back to your
kingdom
and your army?” she asked. “Why follow me? You left us. Why not let us be?”

  “I have my reasons,” Bastion said. “But mostly, I just wanted to see you.”

 
Yana
frowned. Bastion had left her, left the gypsies, and though she knew it was the only way it could be, she still didn’t like it. If he wanted to see her, why didn’t he come around for so long?

  “I rather doubt that, Bastion,” she said.

  “I have had to let you be,
Yana
. It has pained me, but I had no choice. In fact, it was
you
that left,” he added.

  “I am a gypsy,” she said. “It is our way.”

  “I know that well,
Yana
.” It seemed cruel, her way. He knew it wasn’t, really, or at least he tried to tell himself that. He was stuck in the business of his
kingdom
, his people, and she was well set with her travels, and that was that. Bastion let her go her way, for it was the only choice he had. It seemed better to accept that than to try and make it otherwise.

  To make matters worse, there was a rift between their peoples. An uneasy alliance existed, but the people in the
kingdom
didn’t trust gypsies,
and the gypsies mistrusted the
city folk right back. They feared each other, and derided each other sometimes. The city folk often discriminated against them and treated them poorly, calling them ‘dirty’, though many gypsies were decent to do business with- trading goods, telling fortunes, carnivals, and helping with harvests.

  “It is good to see you once more,
Yana
. I am happy to see you,” Bastion said.

  “It is good to see you too, Bastion,” she replied. Just then, that feeling washed over her lightly, the same one she had when she pressed in with him in the uproots of that tree. It felt like a magnet. It felt safe.

  “You seem so different now,”
Yana
said. She wasn’t angry at him, but she knew of his ‘business’ in the
kingdom
. “You were such a darling boy,” she added. 

  “You are just as I remember you,
Yana
,” Bastion replied fondly.

  “Bastion,”
Yana
said, “Things are not as they once were. I fear the path you travel. I fear it for my people,” she said.

  Bastion stopped to consider her a moment, as she was now. The last time he had seen her was a poor circumstance. There had been a hanging three summers ago. A horse thief finally caught. It was grim enough, but the thief was a gypsy, and Bastion was grieved when his eyes met with
Yana
’s in the gathering of people who witnessed it. Killing was a grim business, and
Yana
had just taken part in one as well, in the gulley last night with Bastion.

 
Yana
was a striking contradiction. She had the demeanor of a fearless warrior, unafraid of any challenge, adventure, or threat... and yet, she was a girl even still, a young woman now, and her heart was still obvious. She was a peaceful woman. She loved nature, and she loved her people. She did not love war, nor the death that accompanied it. She was certainly a survivor, as persevering the harshness of life gave her a hard strength. He was so pleased to see her simple beauty tonight, playing her harp and dancing with the children. That was the
Yana
he knew.

  “I fear for your people too,
Yana
,” Bastion said.

  She cocked her head at him. “What do you mean?”

  “There have been kidnappings. Some from the cities, and some gypsies too. It is the only way to explain it,” he said.
Yana
nodded.

  “Aye. There have been people missing lately. I have heard stories. But who is to say that it is more than coincidence?”

  “The Moldavians you put arrows into,” Bastion replied. “We have information that they are stealing villagers and selling them into the slave trade in the Lower Reach.”

  Yana
paused
. What could that mean? What would it mean to her and her caravan? Her people? Then her thoughts came together.

  “This is why you followed me,” she stated. “Did you come to warn me?”

  “Worse,” he said. “I came to ask you to join me.”

  Yana
was shocked.
She hadn’t seen that coming. “I think I’ve helped far too much already,” she replied. “I am a gypsy, not a warrior.” She tried to recount the stories of the black ride
rs she had heard of
, that all connected to him. “I sprang two arrows for you, but my arrows are not for men. They are for rabbits.”

  “
Yana
, I know you are a good tracker,” Bastion said.

  “How would you know such things?” she scoffed. “You know nothing of me!”

  He gave her a devious grin. “It is my business to know such things,
Yana
. It is known that you are a leader of gypsies. You are known in the city, and the villages.”

  “That means nothing!” she said. “The city folk only know that I can dance and play!”

  Bastion took a deep breath. “I have looked in on you,
Yana
. I have never forgotten about you. I could never forget you.”

  I should have known,
Yana
thought to herself. She had inquired of him from time to time, but always tried to mask her interest by inquiring of news in the
kingdom
, not of him specifically. Just like the pendulum of feelings she had felt since she helped him in the gulley... she both missed him terribly and wanted to see him, and also needed to avoid him however she could. There was no avoiding him tonight, so she did the one thing left to her that she desired, and leaned into him, laying her head on his shoulder as they sat by the fire. As naturally as though they were still children, he leaned into her as well, and they sat there a while, warming each other and watching the fire burn.

 
Yana
had fallen in love with her darling boy, Bastion, that first night in the cold rain. She loved him still.

  They had been but children, and she tried to forget... but as she leaned into him, she
could still feel the glow,
the electricity that she felt that night. She had left him behind with great heartache, much like she had to abandon her search for her parents. She felt sorrow with him, because of that connection, but also, because they simply could never be together. They were too young, and lived in different worlds. They hadn’t even been near Bastion’s
kingdom
since two winters ago, and she had purposefully avoided his region most times. There was a great meadow to the west of the city, though, with rivers and berries that gypsies were often attracted to, and it w
as the only reason she had
encountered him now.

  They sat quietly for quite some time, as the fire dwindled to the embers,
Yana
’s favorite part. It was silly, but the reddish-gold glow of them always reminded her of Bastion. Finally,
Yana
spoke.

  “It’
s true that I am a tracker, Bastion,” she said. “The best,” she added with a glimmer of ego. “But I could never go with you. I could not ride with the black riders. I could never be that.” Bastion did not reply, letting her continue.