Chapter 9

“Fie! Mind you both!” Melodia pulled her away. “By the falling stars, what are you doing?” Melodia scanned the gawking crowd of buyers. “No other Rom here, thanks be.”

Etti gasped, patting her chest as if to tamp down the flames.

Melodia hugged her fiercely and danced around.

From her fog of passion, Etti tried to make sense of it. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to give them something to talk about other than what they saw with the two of you,” Melodia said. “You!” She cuffed Rafa. “You show no honor to her. Go. Take a walk… and cool down.”

Rafa exhaled. “I’m sorry, Etti.” He left.

“I came to relieve you from watching Red,” Melodia said. Her light brown eyes flashed in anger. “Thank the saints I came. The marshals wish to see you about your brothers. Meet them at the entry gate. Go you to them, and I’ll tend to Red.” She pushed her toward the aisle. “Walk tall. Mayhap these men will think you are betrothed, to be acting so.”

Etti left the stables, heading for the front gate, some 300 yards distant. Her body simmered from Rafa’s kiss, and she couldn’t breathe enough air. She had heard of the spell of love, whispered exchanges among girls older than she. In her innocence she had thought their tales exaggerated, but the trembling and wanting left her weak and melting. Closing her eyes she savored Rafa’s passion, the softening of his mouth, the slow fire that had spread through her body from his kiss.

The men watched her intensely as she passed. What they had seen! Her, losing all traces of duty and control. She followed Melodia’s advice and held her head high. She walked past the jeweler’s tent, still swarming with marshals and curious fair goers, wanting to catch a glimpse of his poor bruised wife, no doubt.

Ruslo and Uncle Dody stood at the entry gate with three marshals. They told her Durril and Jilé had escaped, but with the fastest horses from the fair, they would catch them soon. “We need to learn where they may go from here,” one of the marshals said. “Which way do you think they would flee?”

“I’ve no guess,” Etti said. “They arrived here alone.”

“They didn’t get word to you?” Suspicion narrowed the older marshal’s eyes.

“Of course not,” Uncle Dody huffed. “We expelled them years ago. We haven’t seen them until now.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Troyes used to be one of their favorite places. Mayhap they’re following the Rhone River to it, north.”

“By the light of God, we’ll find them,” the older marshal swore. “They’re thieves, and will be dealt with as such.”

Etti shuddered, glad of a sudden that her parents were spared their sons’ shame, and the punishment that was to come.

 

* * *

 

Rafa left the stables, walking swiftly. He passed some buyers who pointed and gave him a thumbs up, laughing as he passed them. One man looked familiar. He had been near Red’s stall when Rafa openly embraced Etti. Rafa hoped he didn’t know Etti or any other members of the tribe.

The dark clouds seemed to drop onto Rafa’s shoulders, heavy and wet. By gad but she was warm. Sweet. Her kisses had overpowered him like a candle in the midday sun. They had been seen. Such disgraceful conduct would harm Etti’s standing, at the time she least needed more scrutiny. Dody—would he still support Rafa when he found out?

He shook his head at his thoughtless behavior. He savored the moments in life when he stepped to the edge—racing against strong, well-trained horses, any physical challenge with a worthy opponent, anything that tried the limits of his strength, grace or talents. A worthy adversary sharpened Rafa’s wits and, in that moment when he embraced the unknown and dug deep to be faster or stronger or smarter—those were the sweetest moments.

But Etti. She stirred instincts to protect her, to help her. He had been able to, in the Circle, when her brothers attacked Dody with their horsewhips. And again in the stables, during the bidding, when Jilé had tried to kill Red.

The gratitude in her eyes had made him feel so much like a man, her protector. But then he had tasted her passion and lost all control.

She was a nectar he could not resist. He had known sensual pleasures with Gadje women, but having held Etti in his arms, there was no comparison. Well, mayhap. It was like the difference between running along the edge of the sea on a hot day, or charging into the depths of it, feeling it splash over his body, sea spraying his face. He could not touch Etti without wanting to dive in.

In that moment that Etti brought Red to the finish line, he had seen her passion, he had seen to the depths of her spirit.

He stepped aside to let a wagon pass by. He must find Dody, apologize for the kiss at the stables and ask him for forgiveness. It was important that Dody know how much he cared for Etti. How much he would cherish and provide for her.

“Rafa!” Jardani called to him from the tavern by the hawker stalls. “Come join us.”

Rafa entered through the open door.

Inside, men crowded the benches and tables, and the smell of stale ale and sausages sweetened the air. Jardani sat with Rafa’s Uncle Yojo, their primary horse trader. Anton, with his greying temple braids, sat with him, along with Cori and other buyers from Rafa’s kumpania.

Rafa signaled the server for an ale and joined them.

“Good you found time for us,” Yojo said. His wide mouth often formed a big smile, but now he seemed reserved. “We’re tallying our profits.”

“Not so good?” Rafa unclipped his tankard and hoisted it to the serving woman, who filled it from the large ale jug.

Yojo raised his brows. “Good. All but your purchase of Red. You overpaid by a mile with that one.”

“Va. But I paid with my own funds,” Rafa reminded him, wishing he hadn’t ordered an ale. Now he would have to stay for a time. He would make this brief and leave. Find Dody and apologize.

“So you did.” Yojo presented a leather journal open to a summary page of sketches of horses and numbers. His kumpania had sold eight horses and bought six. Yojo explained the circumstances behind the sales. Cori, a younger Rom at his first horse fair, told of the horses they had purchased.

Rafa listened, nodding and interjecting approval when it was fitting. He took a last drink of his ale and hooked his tankard back on his girdle. “I need to check on Dark Tide and Red,” he said. “See you later at the—”

Yojo put a hand on Rafa’s arm. “We’re done here. We’ll be leaving in the morning for Catalonia, as we planned. I’ve settled our tribe’s accounts.” He gestured toward Jardani. “He’s packed, and we’ll all be ready to head out at sunrise.”

“But it’s four more days before the fair’s over.” Rafa stood, poised to leave and search for Dody. “We need supplies, too. And uncle, from here we’re going to Carcassone.” The citadel, the lakes—it was one of the most beautiful cities Rafa had ever seen, and his uncle’s favorite.

“I know why you want to stay, Rafa.” Yojo’s generous mouth stretched into a bland half smile. “You’ve spent most of your time in Ruslo’s camp since we arrived. Jardani has told us what’s been happening.”

Rafa shot a glance at Jardani.

“Don’t be angry with him. He’s worried about you—and has good reason.”

Other men at the table grew quiet, listening.

Yojo noticed and lowered his voice. “You over-stepped at Red’s stall today. The girl has troubles with her people. You like to solve everyone’s problems, but you can’t solve this one. Leave with us tomorrow.”

Rafa signaled to the door. “Time alone to discuss this?” Rafa said.

His uncle followed him outside.

“I respect you, Uncle Yojo,” Rafa said. “But I am a grown man, and I will stay.”

“The woman, Etti. She causes you to lose touch with your honor. You interfere with their tribal matters.”

“Her uncle will speak for me at the marriage council.”

Yojo’s eyes grew wide. “Whyfore?”

“By cause I asked him to.”

His uncle crossed his arms and rubbed his chin. “Whyfore this interest in wedlock? She is comely. Seems to like horses as much as you do.” He held his hand out, palm up. “But she’s not…” He made a circular gesture near his ear “… not right, they say. And that curse of hers at the bidding.” He shuddered. “You swore to your mother you would never wed. You refused her last two matches.”

“Etti is not like other women. I will not refuse her, nor will I leave her now.” Rafa punched his uncle’s arm with affection. “I wish you’d stay. I must apologize. Make amends with Etti’s uncle over my behavior and earn his forgiveness. Jardani and I will travel to Carcasonne with her tribe. If all goes as I hope, Etti will be with me when I return to our tribe in a fortnight.”

He hesitated. If she accepts me. Confidence bolstered his voice, but he worried. Etti had revealed her passion for him, but would she be willing to leave her kumpania for him? He had earned Dody’s and Ruslo’s acceptance, but when the counsel announced their betrothal, would Etti accept it? Rafa could not separate her from her familia—and her father’s legacy—against her will.

“Your mother will be shocked, Rafa.” From the tone in his voice, his uncle did not approve.

He remembered conversations with his mother about the gift of love. “Tell her I have found my wife—if she will have me.”

 

 

* * *

 

Later, Rafa left the stables, still seeking Dody.

“Rafa.” Jardani tapped him on the shoulder. “Are you leaving with us?”

“Na. And I need you to stay with me. Have you seen Dody?”

Jardani shook his head.

“I’m going to check on the horses,” Rafa said.

Jardani followed him past the horses to the trenches dug to accommodate nature’s calls. From there, they walked on the path following the bubbling stream.

“Come with us,” Jardani said. “Etti is naught but trouble for you. You can’t even enjoy the horse fair with all the trouble she’s stirred up.”

“Her brothers. Not her.”

“Yojo’s right about Red—you overpaid several times. You did it for Etti, and see what happened. Now you’re troubled again by cause you were caught kissing her.” He paused. “There will be other girls.”

“Not like her.” With her I find happiness, an unspeakable joy.

To be close to her—it frustrated him to put in words the effect she had on him. The tinkling edge of her laughter, musical. The sensuous glance through her dark lashes. The raw determination in her eyes when she guided Red past the other horses to the finish line. And the simmering desire in her gaze that promised untold ecstasy.

“You’re a man obsessed.” Jardani’s expression of sickened curiosity caused a heat to creep up Rafa’s neck.

He kept the flood of tender thoughts unspoken. “I want no one else.”

“This is good.” Dody appeared from the nearby road. “Jardani, you will excuse us.”

“Yes, Sir.” Jardani stepped through the high grasses to the road.

Rafa and Dody continued following the stream. Rafa waited to learn what Melodia had told him.

“When we reach Carcassonne,” Dody said, “we’ll meet with seven other kumpanias.”

“Have you been there? It is beautiful,” Rafa said.

“I’m not here to talk about Carcassonne. I’m sure you know that.” An edge of impatience sharpened Dody’s voice. He slanted a dark look at Rafa. “I heard what happened at the stable,” Dody said. “Melodia told me.”

Rafa had feared that. “Please forgive me,” Rafa said. “I lost control. We were—”

“Foolish. Had Ruslo or Rupa—or any Rom seen…” He shook his head. “You are well past the age that most Rom marry. We don’t want Ruslo or any of his advisors to think your intentions are anything but honorable. If they suspect that, all the good you have done for us would be moot. All I have done on your behalf will have been in vain. Etti would be expelled, along with her vile brothers.”

“I hold a deep respect for her.”

“Good. You must be more careful. And you would have me speak for you to Ruslo?”

The moment magnified, and doubts assaulted him. The magnitude of his feelings—was it too soon, too sudden? Rafa wanted Etti beyond all reason. He had never found a woman like her, and had no reason in the past to speak of marriage to his mother. She wasn’t from their tribe, and admittedly he had learned little practical information about her. Had she displayed in the past a touch of her brothers’ impetuousness? Was that why all the other men avoided her? What didn’t he know?

“Rafa?”

He recalled her shy wink, her pride in her father, the trust in her eyes. He faced a lifetime decision—some hesitation was understandable. Certainty chased the doubts away. “Yes. I would have you speak with Ruslo if you are still of a mind to do so. I—”

Dody held his open palm to Rafa. “No need to explain. So long as you honor her, I can overlook this. When I met my Ucho, I felt the same way.”

“I have thought much about marriage to her,” Rafa said, floating a bit south of the truth. He had thought of her beauty and courage, and the spell binding desire—but not of their future. He embraced the thought of making her his wife. His heart swelled with the certainty of it, and a fresh anticipation of a new beginning.

“And you would take her to your tribe?”

“Va.”

“Then I have good news for you. As I said, I saw the way you both looked at each other. Your kumpania is… different from ours, but your family is known and reliable. I know Etti will be well cared for.”

Rafa sensed Dody had more to say. His scalp tingled.

“Because of all these things, Rafa, I can rely on you. I spoke to Ruslo already on your behalf. You can say nothing of this to anyone, but Ruslo has agreed. At the marriage council, he will accept proposals from other fathers, but he promised me. For Etti’s husband,” Dody said, pointing at Rafa, “Ruslo will name you.”

 

* * *

 

The man’s arm trembled, his huge muscles shaking in an arm wrestling match. The merchants and traders in the alehouse roared, half supporting him, the other half supporting Sandu. Sensing his chance, Sandu gritted his teeth and summoned a final surge of power, forcing his will on the blacksmith, James.

James collapsed and Sandu slammed his arm on the table. The thrill of competition passed, replaced by the ever-sweet sensation of victory. Sandu savored it for a quick moment then sobered and nodded to James. “You’re a strong man, James. Good effort.”

The merchants and traders in the alehouse applauded. Several came over, slapping Sandu on the back.

“There you are.” His Uncle Ruslo pushed his way through the crowd.

“Did they catch them?” Sandu disliked his Uncle Lumas’s boys, but he’d never seen such demons as Jilé and Durril.

“Nay, but they will.” His uncle cast arrows at Sandu.

“What is it?” Sandu asked.

“I would have a word with you.” Ruslo’s mouth twisted, clumping his thin mustache. “Now.”

Outside, his uncle strode past the lines of ale barrels and stopped. “Why did you not help me during Red’s bidding? The devil’s whelp knifed me in the arm, and you didn’t raise a hand to help me.”

Sights and sounds flooded into Sandu’s mind—the horse’s wounded screams, the flashing knife, the blood. The raw evil in Jilé’s eyes, the seeping cruelty. It had caused Sandu to suffer a rheumy sickness that mingled with the sweat of nightmares, of knee-breaking fear.

Sandu tamped it down and took a step toward his uncle. “What? You think I could not break that pig’s neck with my bare hands? Why didn’t you say something to me, so I knew it would be acceptable to come between you?”

“You could have held him. Kept him from escaping.”

“It is your tribe, not mine. You must tell me when you want my help.”

Ruslo’s shoulders dropped, and he exhaled a fast breath. “You are my nephew. I would have you be part of my tribe. We will talk more when we have time, you and I. And va, I would have you help me. You need not fear you are meddling.”

Sandu’s mouth thinned. “I fear… nothing.”

 

* * *

 

 

The horse fair continued without further incidents. Good to his word, Rafa’s Uncle Yojo had left with the rest of the Gitanos for Catalonia. Red continued to recover from her injury, and Etti avoided Rafa. When they met at Red’s stall, she mumbled an excuse and left.

The fair concluded with a big celebration in the field near the stables. Etti did not make an appearance. Today they would leave for Carcassone, and the marriage council.

Rafa rose early. Not that he had slept after he had heard Dody’s news. In spite of his confidence in Dody, new questions and uncertainties had begun to surface. Would Etti be pleased when the council named Rafa for her? Va! He believed it, so why was he now plagued with worry?

Because it was so important.

He and Jardani slept farthest from Ruslo’s tent, near Vano’s wagon. Tendrils of smoke curled upward from the dying fire, and the sky had lightened with impending dawn. The earth sighed with her fragrances, moist earth and the sweet smell of clover. From the cover of his eiderdown Rafa slipped into his hose and tunic. Jilé had slashed his white tunic beyond repair. The new, blue tunic lay soft against the healing scab that ran across his chest.

The day would be meaningless if he could not see Etti. There was so much to say to her, so much to learn about her.

But how, when she traveled in Dody’s wagon and avoided him?

Carcassonne remained over a hundred miles northwest. Their route would offer pleasing views when it hugged the shores of the Mediterranean Sea. It reminded him why he loved the traveling life of the Romani people, each day fresh as the sun, with exciting, different places to see. He wanted to see it with Etti.

Now they had left the horse fair behind, he hoped Etti would be less embarrassed, more willing to talk with him. Today he would reassure her about his feelings.

Rafa rode Dark Tide. Because of his stallion’s undue attraction to Red, Jardani led her from a distance. The mare continued to heal and seemed comfortable with their pace.

Etti traveled with Atira and Melodia in Dody’s wagon. Not trusting Etti, the Marseilles horse fair officials had sent a marshal to accompany her wagon, as well, in case the brothers sought her out. The fair was determined to protect its reputation by catching and punishing them.

By afternoon the road had veered close to the sea, the breeze salty and fresh on his skin. Rafa removed his hat and ruffled his hair free, welcoming the warm summer sun.

Dody signaled to Rafa. “Drive my wagon for a while, will you, Pen? Atira and I want to ride this afternoon with Ucho.” It was common for the Rom to trade wagons as they drove—it broke the monotony of the miles.

For Rafa, it made the day sweeter. “I am glad to, thank you.” Rafa welcomed the chance to talk with Etti.

“Good,” Dody said. “And remember our talk.”

Rafa tethered Dark Tide to the wagon and settled on the driver’s bench alongside Melodia and Etti. Etti retreated into the wagon, leaving Rafa with Melodia.

Rafa broke the silence. “I’m sorry about the… the incident in the stables.”

“I told Dody.” Melodia said.

“I know. Va. I didn’t think. I’m sorry. Dody and I spoke, and I reassured him that I would not be so careless in the future.”

She gave him a long, hard look. The young girl stood poised to pass the threshold to womanhood. She came from a Hungarian strain of Rom with skin so light she could almost be judged a Gadje, but only by those who didn’t know the wide divergence in appearance of what they called Gypsies. Her light brown hair blew free in the breeze, and her brown eyes were intent on Rafa. She lowered her voice. “Dody told me he would speak for you to Ruslo. Is that true?”

Rafa answered without lowering his. “It is. I would have her for my wife.” He met Melodia’s gaze. “I think she wants me, too. Do you think so?”

“Does each day surrender to the night?” Melodia quoted a common Rom expression with a crooked smile.

Rafa returned it. “I’m glad.” He wanted to reassure her and learn more about Etti this day. “She is in my thoughts always, ever since I first saw her in Marseilles.” They rode in silence. The sea sparkled in the sun. Seagulls swooped the shoreline, crying musically in the clear air. He laughed. “Look you at those little sanderlings chasing the crabs.” Their black, stilt-like legs blurred as they scampered, ruffling like the edges of thatched roofs in a gale as they escaped the whooshing surf.

“Do you live by the sea?” Melodia asked.

“Some of my familia live in the mountains near Barcelona, and the sea. We avoid the cities because of the Plague, and because some people grow hostile toward us. Our tribe is well known for our horses, though, so we are welcome at all the fairs.” Gentle grasses blew in the breeze, catching his eye. “Va, it is beautiful, like this.”

Later, they encountered a traveling army, some seventy soldiers with wagons and supplies. Melodia leaned toward him. “Are they fighting England again?”

“Thankfully, no.” England had been challenging King Charles ever since Rafa could recall. Even before his father was born, England had campaigned to conquer France and put their English king on her throne. “The truce has held. So far. Would that England abandon this cause and end the war.”

The soldiers passed and Rafa steered the wagon and the conversation back on course. “So, tell me, if you please, by cause you know I’m earnest. At the council, will others be speaking for Etti?”

Under raised eyebrows, Melodia smiled. “Many will.” She clasped her hands together. “Etti is the most beautiful girl in our tribe. Even at the fair I saw no one who comes close to her. Our tribe—all tribes loved Danior. Respected him. Were it not for her brothers… In spite of them, I’m sure several will ask for her, and as soon as she arrives in Carcassonne, there will be more.”

Rafa suppressed a smile. Melodia’s guileless youth made her gushing testimony sound amusingly amplified, but her love and loyalty to Etti impressed him. The indifferent young men in Etti’s tribe did not worry Rafa but, as Melodia said, other men would be as taken by her beauty as he himself had been.

Would that Etti were free to choose. She had shown him her affection and desire, but Ruslo alone had the power to decide her mate. “I must comport myself well.”

“Indeed,” she agreed.

“You are a good friend,” Rafa said. “Will you help me?”

She gave him a skeptical smile. “How could I help you, when you already have Dody on your side?”

“Help me with Etti. She’s uncomfortable around me now. I hope she knows I didn’t intend to harm her. I… I lost my senses for a moment. Will you tell her I’m sorry, and I’m hoping she will no longer feel awkward with me.”

“Va.”

“And prithee tell me if you learn more about the pairings.”

Melodia put her hand on Rafa’s arm. “I will help you. Worry not.”

Ruslo and Sandu approached on their horses, accompanied by several mounted men in brown livery. As they came closer, Rafa recognized the old, wizened marshal from the fair. “They’re the marshals from Marseilles.”

Melodia jumped up and disappeared into the wagon. “Etti. The horse fair marshals are here.”

Etti pulled the canvas open. She saw the marshals and looked to Rafa. The marshal that Rafa convinced of Jilé’s guilt recognized Rafa and pulled in front of the wagon. “Godspeed, Rafa.”

“And to you, Benjamin,” Rafa replied, recalling the marshal’s name.

Benjamin and Etti exchanged greetings.

“They have news of your brothers,” Ruslo said. “We can meet in my wagon, if you please, and—”

“I have no secrets,” Etti said from the wagon. “What needs to be said will be said for all to hear.” She paused. “You found them?” She moistened her lips.

“Aye. About ten miles from here. They had strong, new horses and still possessed some of the stolen coins. We’ll return them to the jeweler, but he will be sorely put on by how few are left. Your brothers were tried. Found guilty and… punished.”

“Are they… ” Etti pressed on her chest as if to contain her fear.

The marshal lowered his voice. “No. With their several crimes, though, they won’t be battering or stealing soon. They severed Durril’s and Jilé’s left arms.”

Etti cried out and covered her face with her hands.

“Well deserved.” The other marshal growled, glaring at Etti. Benjamin waved the other man to silence. “Be not cruel. She was no part of it.” He turned to Etti. “They threatened you. Said they’d come after you. We told them they would go straight to the gallows if they try to seek you out. If you do see them, though, you are to report them to the reeve. Be assured, if they’re seen in France again, they will be hanged.”