Quest & Crown, page 5
“When we found her.... It was a serious crime. We all felt that way. We would never steal a little one, just the jewels, in line with our gypsy code!”
Gold flashes from her mouth.
“Where is she?”
Did they trade the child for jewels and she will not say?
This idea came to mind.
The woman shakes herself.
“I do not know, nor does anybody else!”
So that is that. Everyone knows what happened years ago, but nothing about the missing baby. I have wasted my day and my time, he thought, groaning with sudden weariness at his own failings.
“But I know where we took her.”
Janda leans on the board with its three legs. It shakes with her vehemence. She draws her shroud over her face, hiding her bitter emotions, Garty assumes.
“Please tell me more.”
Garty dumbs down his flailing exuberance.
“The orphanage, that’s where she was left, wrapped in a special scarlet shawl, the poor little darling. It broke my heart...”
She stops as her emotions surge.
Was she involved in this kidnapping and disposal of a child? Garty takes mental notes. He restrains his disdain. He peers into her half-hidden face and he notes fear flashing through her eyes.
“Do not be troubled. Which orphanage?”
That is the clue.
“There, over there,” she says, waving her arms towards the woods beyond. She searches her mind for the name of the orphanage. “Grave..., no, ‘Graceful’ is the name. The place is empty now. She was there!”
Garty is disturbed and excited about this revelation. The woman rises and hurries towards the little window, peeping through the curtains using a strong word that Garty ignores. She turns back towards Garty and despite her veil, he can see her face is ashen, as if she has seen a vision.
“Get out. They followed you!” Her tone is one of anger and dismay.
“This way.” She wiggles past the table and tugs on a rolled up tapestry on the end wall, allowing it to flop down, showing a tapestry of horses and riders. She pushes open a small door behind the scene. The door swings open, revealing a platform outside. “Now!” She speaks with urgency. Garty almost forgets his hat. He doubles up and crawls through the small open door, designed for children, he muses, as he coils and turns to bring his shoulders through. The woman speaks to someone he did not know was seated below the doorway.
“Crystalina, get Snow and Sir Garty out of here. They are coming yonder!” Her tone is snappy.
Garty, for the first time, sees a figure hunched over a loom. He thinks she is old. She turns her face towards him, flicking her long hair.
“Yes, Mother,” Crystalina replies.
His heart almost stops when he sees the creature before him, placing her loom on hold and rising from a three-legged stool.
Her eyes are so beautiful, like two crystal balls in one face.
His own eyes boggle. Mother is Janda. He is broken in one look from this young woman. Her hair glistens in the sunlight. It appeared as dark as night and as bright as sapphire and amethyst blended. She is sleek, not very tall and her figure is superb, delightful to his eyes. His face turns pink with his own thoughts of delight. How can this miracle happen to a grouchy, introverted, and crazy woman? I have spent a good hour of my time listening to her meandering! His fuming subsides as her voice interjects.
“Come now, we are waiting.”
Crystalina sits bareback, with Brill next to her.
The knight hears her voice, like music to his ears. Garty Musdo shakes his thoughts as if they are snowflakes and stares at first, unable to think. He gazes at her in awe. She is seated on a white horse with its mane flowing in the gentle breeze. This virginal damsel sits without a saddle; controls two horses. His eyes mist over and he wonders if he is dreaming. He must wake up before they are all captured!
With that thought in mind, Garty leaps from the small balcony, takes the reins, grasps the pommel, locks his left foot in the iron stirrup, and mounts Brill, flicking his cape. His desire soars to impress an empress, flaunting the peril of his life or reputation for a ride alongside.
Crystalina is already hugging her horse, around its neck, and her ebony satin hair tie has fallen to the ground. Her body is leaning forward and he can just see an outline of her perky rump, round as a robin’s breast and strong as a young horse’s rump. The woman’s glistening blue-black hair flows behind her as the silken veil of her novitiate. Her voice is husky-sweet and demanding.
“Ride low and fast, Mr. Garty.”
She orders him in a guttural voice.
How does she know my name? She is a genius, he moans, heaving a huge breath. He almost faints with excitement as his thoughts rush back and forth. Ride low, he repeats and fast, he adds, repeating her sumptuous words to his soul. His heart cannot respond but beats faster as if it is rocketing to the moon.
“They will shoot. They are killers. Faster!”
Snow, her horse bolts! She hangs on like a circus act, thrilling and courageous.
No time for fear now, Garty thinks, somehow jubilant, yet dismayed at the unknown possibilities.
He rides like the wind, and she rides as a whirlwind! Brill must keep up with a fine white stallion with hair the color of clouds and dark wild-eyed pupils. Brill is up for it and loves every minute. Fifteen minutes of hard riding sees them go through a thicket.
Chapter 11
“STAY LOW,” CRYSTALINA said.
She looks over her shoulder towards Garty, whose horse is on the s white stallion’s heels. They arrive at a clearing and the sound of a bubbling brook causes Brill to neigh. The white stallion is prancing after the long run and snorting.
Crystalina turns towards Garty and slips off, as easily as sliding a slim foot into a fine slipper. His heart tumbles again. Everything she does fascinates him. Her flowing dress, decorated with the most intricate embroidery and fitted to perfection on her young and voluptuous-virginal frame, stuns his thoughts more than he can bear. He wants to rush to her, sweep her up and kiss her strawberry red lips, nuzzle in her silk tresses and gaze into her spell-binding eyes. Instead, he jumps off Brill and leads him to the stream for a well-earned drink of pure mountain water. He dares not to look. A powerful man shall morph into a jelly man. He smiles at his own thoughts.
She has brought her horse towards the stream and is now sitting down on a flat stone almost overgrown with moss. He glances at her and it happens again. His heart fibrillates. If he is not careful, his emotions will get him into serious trouble with such a female of extraordinary strength, dexterity, and, of course, immense beauty. He knows he must take more control over his emotions, but it seems impossible right now! Crystalina wades into the stream, splashing water on the stallion, laughing as if she is a small child. Soaked, she comes to the verge of the stream. Her dress clings to her body. She is not aware of her effect on his deepest thoughts, his disturbed psyche. She looks towards him and her face is grave. He waits for her to speak, to command him to kiss her. Instead, he chokes on his words and allows them to spill out as a dribbling tap.
“Who are these people tracking me?”
He is disappointed with himself for not noticing anyone following from the inn. He was careful, so how did they know where he had gone?
“The king, Swanfeather, hates these people. They are known as Axemanix’s hit men! They followed you. It is your fault!”
“I am so sorry. I never meant to cause any trouble for you and your mother.”
“They have threatened us before, and are very dangerous people.”
“Do you want to go on?”
“I thought we were safe now.”
“No, sir, we are not safe. I must hide out somewhere. Go back and stay safe, for I am worried about you.”
Garty tosses his cape back behind his shoulders and shows the butt of his pistol.
“I am armed; I can shoot well.”
“There are three of them. I counted.”
She is quiet.
“They will take my horse, and me too.”
Garty wants to take her in his arms and make passionate love to her, right here in the soft green grass and luscious daisies, primroses, cowslips and red poppies. To roll around in her arms for the rest of his life.
He rejects his thoughts and speaks as a rational being and not a love maniac.
“I am sorry. I shall go back.”
She steps towards him, and he quivers inside. Of course, he has not paid her mother. Did she want money? He slips out his velvet pouch and shakes out two gold coins. That is equal to a month’s wages. I owe this to her and her mother.
“For your mother.”
Crystalina holds her palm out, and he places the coins within, touching her firm skin. Every part of this young wild woman was firm and sensual. She shattered his every thought and her power slithered into his soul.
She must never know of my feelings. I will not dishonor her innocence.
“Do not believe her. She is a great liar.”
She tosses her hair and her retina beams into his, piercing his heart and shattering it into a million pieces. He shakes his thoughts as a dog shakes water off its coat.
She obeys her mother, but now says she is a liar! This is a female that he cannot fathom!
“Please, give this one to your mother, for I gave her nothing at all. Promise!”
He hands her another gold coin. His eyes plead with her crystal ball eyes. Dark and broody. Crystalina snatches the coin, scratching his palm. A shiver races down his spine. Now angry.
“I promise. I do not lie... a lot!”
“You must go before they track you down.”
She swirls away from him, her skirt brilliant in the afternoon sunlight, like an exotic bird ready to fly into the sky.
She leaps on her horse, seated like one leading a troupe to war, hair blowing against the wind. Her silk dress clings to her soft curved breasts, showing their promise and tantalizing power over all red-blooded men.
The exercise renders her cheeks with a warm glow, like a pink rose in bloom, Garty thinks.
A dark side lurks in this lovely rose, a black heart that worries me as much as her dramatic side woos my heart.
She talks as if she is some casual teacher giving straight forward directions to a pupil.
“Ride along the narrow way until you come to a crossing. Turn left and carry on for fifteen minutes. Work your way towards the bridge. Then you can see the inn. Few folks know this route. Highwaymen live around here!”
She stares at him and thunders away.
“Thank you.”
He waves goodbye, but she has already vanished into the woods, hidden by foliage.
“Farewell.”
Garty rides towards the inn, concocting plans to continue his commission. His heart is divided. His thoughts of beautiful females on horseback are imprinted on his heart.
My dreams should fade in time.
In the meantime, Axemanix’s hit men have reached the gypsy camp and they are keen to get information.
They bang on Janda’s door.
“Let us in. We wish to speak with you.”
Janda the clairvoyant opens her small door and stares into the faces before her. As her view widens, she sees three men of mighty appearance, with leather and velvet garments trimmed with pure gold. Furs drape over their shoulders with tiny frozen faces on one end that look like foxes.
The face that leads is bony, yet flushed with the faintest tint of pink. His nose spreads to fill in a lot of space between the rest of his face. It appears as if someone has boxed him hard. His lips are narrow and his hair red as fire. Gypsy Janda was not afraid. She had encountered such folk.
“Ye cannot pass this door lest you cross my palm with silver.”
Her eyes pierce into his thoughts.
The man steps away in shock. This woman was against a man. The country’s advisor when Axemanix came to the throne?
Gypsy Janda had covered her face with a lace veil, which she used to disguise herself and mystify others.
A man with ebony hair standing beside him hands him a silver coin.
“Here, give it to her.”
He gives her the coin.
“Come in and sit down. Wipe your filthy boots on that mat there.”
They obey without hesitation!
The three men fill the van space almost to capacity, with their animal skin paraphernalia.
Minutes before, Garty drank her liquor. Now a crystal ball stands. They stare at the round ball. Next to the ball, she lays three packs of cards. Spreads them on the surface.
“You!” she said.
Jalna points a long bony finger with very long nails painted. At the first man.
“I shall tell thee what thy fortune will be.”
Using her mysterious voice, she mesmerizes her victims.
The man sits, bumping the table. He morphs into shock. All his life, he had desired to visit a gypsy fortune teller. He waits, his eyeballs wide and mouth wide open. The two men stood behind him, hypnotized.
The woman peers into the crystal ball and utters words in a strange language. Her hands wave over the globe as the men watch in fascination. She bangs the table.
“What did you see?”
She rocks her body and stares into his eyes.
“I cannot say what I-. Choose a card.”
She spread the cards. He picks a card, passes it to her. With slow movements and deep thought, she places the card on the surface before him. A Jack with a scythe.
“Pick another one.”
She places the second one.
The picture is that of a monarch wearing a crown of gold.
“Another.”
He chose another. She places a card right side up. A queen.
She looks up.
“Do not speak outside of these walls.”
The man shook his head.
She had him under her power now. She stood.
“That is all.”
Stuffed animals moved as jumped.
“You told me nothing.”
“Cross my palm with silver.”
The second man gave him a silver coin. A spur ryal.
Her eyes light up, and behind the veil, she makes a gurgling sound.
Chapter 12
“THAT IS BETTER! NOW I shall tell thee things. I know thee not.” Janda pauses, and the man waits with his mouth open.
“Your name is scythe man, and you come another time.”
The man she calls scythe, stares. His knees shake.
“You want to find a royal. You shall continue this quest. A road you should not travel, for upon it you will find danger. A woman will wail.”
She stands.
“I am tired.”
Three men stare.
“That is a load of rubbish,” says the third man. He is young, with fair hair and a ruddy countenance. He wears the finest velvet cape with gold clasps on the shoulders and across his well hewn chest.
The first man, the one with the dead animals in his furry cape, says, “No, she is right. Nobody knows that I am scythe. I came from another land. Never did I disclose... Everything she said is true.”
“She knows you.”
The dark-haired man suggested as tensions flare.
Scythe raises his hand. He slams a dagger on her fine table. Janda’s face lifts and her pupils wield daggers. He rises tall before the woman. His head, adorned with a velvet hat trimmed with gold, appears awesome to the woman.
She looks up into his bird eyes and moves her lips. Her voice is a metronome sing-song tone of voice.
“Would ye kill me, then? For telling the truth?” She asks. “And ruin my valuable table? Once loved by my great grandmother, our tribal queen! She haunts her enemies now!”
He snatches his knife and holds it aloft for a moment as if his hand were stuck in midair, ready to strike her head. Janda’s eyes stare into scythe’s face, disempowering him. His eyes flicker and he returns to reality as the knife comes down with his attitude. He shoves it into his pouch on his hip.
“Hah! If we stay here all day listening to this gobble de gook, we will never catch our prey. And I am not talking about rabbits either,” he says through clenched teeth. He throws back his head and laughs. The woman waits for a few seconds of paradoxical ambience, overwhelming merriment and deepest gloom mingling within her caravan. She has had enough! If they stay much longer, she will die a horrible death, or shall kill them all with her sword and pistol hidden, yet within her grasp! She shakes her head. They are not worth her energy. Her voice becomes loud and commanding again.
“I have given my secrets to you. Now, be on your way.” Her index finger is pointed upwards. She speaks with such force that the men hurry out. Fear moves them on their way. The man she named ‘scythe’ is the last to leave. He turns towards the woman.
“I shall return.”
He believes her truth, and she respects that.
“I shall look forward to meeting with ye again. Alone is best.”
The other pair cannot hear their words.
He shakes her hand, imprinting her palm with a rose ryal he has reserved for this day. “For repairs to thy table.”
They depart with some noise. Other members of the gypsy family stay hidden.
The woman decides it is time for a nice cup of floral tea and she sings in her beautiful, eerie voice as she hides her coins underneath the carpet near her toes, in a secret little box beyond the wooden floor.
“I sing ye a song of travelers who wander across the globe, finding love and passion in places they were told...”
She closes her eyes for a spell of peace!
-0-0-0-
Garty waits in the woods to ensure Crystalina was on her way.
The thicket opened out to a clearing, an old building looms. At first he assumes it to be a ruin, but riding closer, he inspects a sign that is broken on one chain, fallen on its side. He twists his head to read the words: graceful orphanage for children. He identifies the words after a few efforts. His heart beats. The place where the baby was abandoned!
