The Untamable Rogue

by Cathy McAllister

  Chapter 5

  29th June 1888

  James Atkins boiled with rage when he discovered that his niece had fled. His angry shouting filled the whole house as he scared the servants off to look for Liz or some clues as to her whereabouts.

  “This ungrateful bitch! This viper!”

  James kicked a chair aside and rushed to one of the high windows. Impatiently pulling one of the heavy curtains aside, he stared outside to where the frightened servants were combing the yard and all of the buildings to find the vanished young lady.

  “I’ll break her neck! Once I get hold of her, then … then …,” James snarled, enraged.

  The sound of a person timidly clearing his throat made him turn around. In the doorway stood the stable boy, Timo, looking at his feet, full of fear. He had respectfully removed his cap and held it like a shield in front of his body, nervously playing with the brim.

  “What is it?” James snapped at him and took a few steps across the room towards the door.

  The lad started in fear and took a step backwards.

  “Sir. She’s taken one of the horses. – The blessed master’s stallion is not in his box.”

  James thumped his fist down on a low sideboard putting the vases in danger of falling.

  “This God-damned slut! – Such an ungrateful person! – I simply wanted to be of help to her and this mad woman just disappears!” James was completely incensed.

  Timo had jumped in fright and ducked automatically, but the master of the house had already grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and was shaking him violently. Timo’s heart was pounding and he already thought that this was the end. James Atkins emitted an aura of such brutality that Timo’s teeth were chattering, both with fear and because of the violent shaking. Timo could well understand why the lady had tried to go a long way away. Finally James Atkins seemed to gain control of himself again and he did at least stop shaking the poor boy. He looked at the lad intensely, his eyes ablaze.

  “Saddle three good horses. – You and old John will accompany me. We’ll catch up with her even if we have to follow her around the whole damned world!”

  With a jerk he let go of the poor stable boy and the lad almost stumbled but was just able to steady himself. He quickly nodded in agreement, glad that the expected beating had not happened. He hastily sent a prayer of thanksgiving to the heavens and breathed a sigh of relief. He knew only too well what the new master of the house was capable of when he was so disposed. To be exact, he had expected it to be even worse this time. He had never yet seen James Atkins in such a temper.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll do that. Straight away, sir!” he hurriedly assured him. He could not flee quickly enough out of the reach of this despot. Who knew whether he might not change his mind.

  When the stable boy had gone James swept all of the vases on the sideboard onto the floor, where they smashed to pieces. He was truly beside himself. He would never have thought that this pampered girl would have had the courage to simply take a horse and disappear. He had judged her wrongly, yes, he had completely underestimated her. One thing really puzzled him: how had she got out of her room? He had locked her in. She must have climbed out of the window. – A really brave, dare-devil venture. There was clearly more to this girl than he had thought. But she was still only a woman and would not get far. She would most certainly already be afraid and worried, being alone outside, and she will have hidden. He would find her. He was the hunter and she would be hiding somewhere in fear. He was imagining how he would find her. He was already picturing the way she would react. He was the hunter and she was the shy little deer. James laughed sinisterly. Oh, yes, he would definitely find her and then he would show her another side to himself. He had been too lenient with her.

  ‘Just wait, my little wild cat. I’ll teach you!’

  Chapter 6

  3rd July 1888

  When I awoke it took me a while to remember where I was. Slowly I let the events since my hasty flight from my uncle mentally pass before my eyes. Against my will tears came into my eyes. Very soon the salty moisture was running down my cheeks in a steady flow and my nose blocked. I sniffed and sat up to get more air. After I had slowly inhaled and exhaled deeply a few times, the stream of tears dried up a little and I felt a bit better. I was missing my parents and my home. It was lovely with the Sinti and most of them were incredibly nice to me, but I longed for Blue Hall and my wet-nurse. I longed for the carefree time before the tragic death of my parents and the appearance of my hateful uncle. A deep resentment welled up within me: Uncle James had taken from me the last thing that I still loved – my home! But I would demand the return of Blue Hall as soon as I was of age. Until then I simply had to ensure that I did not fall into the hands of Uncle James.

  As my thoughts wandered to Ivo I immediately felt a tingling in my belly. He was both dangerous and attractive at the same time. When I thought of his amorous adventure, to which I was a witness, an inexplicable heat arose within me. What I had seen there was outrageous and what was still more outrageous was the fact that I had not been able to look away. When I had seen my uncle with the kitchen maid it had simply revolted me, completely revolted me. Just the thought of it made me feel sick. The frivolity between Ivo and the beautiful gypsy in the forest, on the other hand, had made me curious: compared to what I had been told about the union of a man and a woman it actually seemed that under certain circumstances it was also pleasurable for the woman. But was it so that only sinful women could experience desire? Was desire a sin? As Ivo and this beautiful woman were not married it must be a sin.

  A sudden noise from outside pulled me from my musing. I jumped out of bed and looked out of the window. People were running excitedly down to the other end of the clearing. They were shouting wildly amongst themselves. The atmosphere seemed to be inflamed.

  “Whatever’s wrong?” I wondered.

  Curious, I dressed and rushed out of the waggon. Outside I bumped into Sergio.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “I don’t know exactly. It looks like my brother has been in trouble again.– Come on. Let’s take a look.”

  He took me by the arm and pulled me in the direction of the turmoil at the other end of the camp.

  *

  The two opponents were circling one another, looking at one another with attentive eyes. One was Ivo and his opponent was a good half a head bigger than him, and also broader. On the other hand Ivo was more agile and clearly a good ten years younger.

  “Who’s that?” I asked, anxious. I had never seen such a bull of a man.

  “That’s Rikash, the blacksmith,” explained Sergio.

  That did, of course, explain the man’s enormously strong stature and his massive upper arms.

  I could not take my eyes off what was happening. Just like the other spectators here, I held my breath with the tension. The sight made my heart beat wildly. Ivo was well-built and undoubtedly an experienced fighter, but the blacksmith was a bull of a man. I did not want to imagine what damage could be done by a blow from his huge fist. I was reminded a little of David and Goliath, even if Ivo, with his similarly very strong figure and his dark locks, did not quite fit into the role of David.

  Ivo threw a right hook and landed a hard blow on his opponent’s chin: a hit that could definitely have sent a weaker opponent to the ground. But the brawny blacksmith just shook his head, contemptuously spat some blood out of his mouth, and then grinned sinisterly. My heart sank and, involuntarily, I clenched my fists.

  “Is that all you can do – little one?” Rikash provoked Ivo scornfully.

  This obvious insult caused an anxious murmur to spread through the crowd of spectators. Ivo, however, was smiling cynically.

  “Your wife didn’t think I was so very small. If I remember correctly she said something like: … that’s much bigger than my old man’s!”

  The crowd became raucous with pleasure.

  Rikash grew red with anger. He threw a powerful, destructiv
e punch, but Ivo ducked with lightning speed and hit his opponent again – hard, in the pit of his stomach. Rikash doubled up briefly, then again hit out at Ivo, catching him on his left temple.

  The heavy ring that Rikash was wearing on his ring finger tore a deep wound into Ivo’s skin. Blood was running down Ivo’s face, but he did not seem particularly bothered about it. He looked at his opponent with a challengingly grin.

  I had clenched my fists with the tension. I had never before seen a fist fight. It seemed to me to be much more brutal than a fight with daggers or pistols, such as gentlemen used in duels. Against my will I had to admit that I liked the way these two muscular men, with their naked upper bodies gleaming with sweat, circled one another furtively and then hit one another with their bare fists. I stared in fascination at the red blood that poured from Ivo’s wound. It excited me in a strange way, to the extent that I forgot to breathe because of the tension.

  “Why are they fighting?” I asked, anxiously.

  “As far as I can work out my brother … err … with Rikash’s wife … err …I mean, they …,” Sergio stammered, embarrassed.

  “You mean, they fornicated?” I interrupted, my cheeks red with excitement. I thought of the secret tryst that I had watched. That must have been the blacksmith’s wife.

  Sergio nodded, embarrassed.

  My eyes fell on a young woman who was standing away from the crowd a little, her eyes red from crying and her cheek swollen. She started at every blow that the fighters exchanged. – Yes, that was definitely the woman that I had seen Ivo with in the forest.

  My attention was drawn back to the opponents as a murmur spread through the crowd. Ivo had fallen to the ground and Rikash had pulled his knife, ready to thrust it into his adversary’s black heart. The gleaming steal flashed in the sunlight.

  A murmur of horror spread through the crowd and even I involuntarily uttered a small cry. I instinctively put my hand in front of my mouth and waited with a pounding heart for the unavoidable, horrible end.

  “Do it!” Ivo mocked challengingly.

  Rikash was just about to plunge the knife in when a piercing command penetrated the breathless silence that had prevailed in the arena.

  “Stop! Since when do we cut one another’s throats?” roared Santino, pushing his way through the crowd.

  Rikash stopped.

  “I just wanted to give him something to think about – he deserves this!” he defended himself. He did not seem particularly prepared to sway from his original intention.

  “What’s he done wrong?” asked Santino, and cast an angry look at his eldest son.

  In the meantime Ivo had stood up again and was standing there, his arms folded, with a stony expression.

  “He had sex with Mariella in the undergrowth!” roared the blacksmith with rage.

  “Is that true?” Santino asked his son, his voice dangerously calm.

  Ivo nodded briefly.

  The crowd held its breath. Santino’s facial features had become hard. He was silent for a while – for what seemed to me to be half an eternity - then he declared, his voice cold: “Ivo, you have brought shame to yourself and your family. You are banned from the camp for a month, and you may not come closer than one hundred steps from the camp. You will take care of yourself. If Mariella has conceived a child by you, then it is up to Rikash to decide what is to happen with the child. That is all I have to say!”

  “But …” Rikash wanted to protest. He was clearly not happy with the outcome of this matter. The pure desire to kill still exuded from his dark eyes.

  “Blood has been shed, so you have had your revenge and your honour has been re-instated. That is my final word on this matter. – Go back to your camp fires. We will leave in an hour.”

  Santino turned to his son.

  “When we leave you will stay behind us and keep at a distance, otherwise you will see my unpleasant side. Next time it will be a permanent ban. Have I made myself plain and clear?”

  Ivo nodded, his expression stony, and then turned abruptly, striding away hastily. The crowd gradually dispersed and I watched Ivo leave. Part of me wanted most of all to rush after him to tend to his wound, whilst the other part of me was horrified by the brutality that I had just witnessed. I was not able to sort out my contradictory emotions. This strange attraction that Ivo caused in me unsettled me. And yet he hardly noticed me. I did not have the feeling that he was in any way interested in me – he may in fact find me tedious. I really could not compete with this fiery gypsy, so why would a man like Ivo give a person like me a second thought?

  ‘Pull yourself together! This man is a dangerous devil, and if you’re not careful then he won’t only rob you of your innocence but also your soul.’

  *

  People had begun to extinguish the fires and pack their things. In a short while the journey was to continue. I had wanted to help a little but every family here seemed to pack up for themselves, and my help was superfluous. Probably things would happen more quickly without my help, because everyone was used to their tasks and carried them out quickly and without needing to think about them.

  As I wandered across the area my eyes fell on Santino’s caravan. Ivo was standing in front of it talking with his mother. Jelana was brushing her son’s hair from his face and she kissed his forehead as he hung his head humbly. This woman really did seem to have her men in her power, if this cantankerous Santino and the wild Ivo ate from her hand like this. I was really very curious about Jelana.

  Chapter 7

  Jelana was kneeling at her husband’s feet, pulling off his leather boots. She was measuring him with her eyes, taking in every detail: the ruffled hair, the dark rings under his eyes and the frown on his forehead. He seemed to be tired and aged. The leader, who was otherwise always full of energy, had collapsed into his favourite chair, his legs on a stool and a cup of brandy in his hand.

  “What a horrible day!” he complained. “I knew at his birth that he would cause nothing but trouble. So now I have had to ban my own flesh and blood.”

  He sighed deeply, drumming with his fingers on the arm of the chair whilst he put the glass to his mouth with the other hand, emptying it in one go.

  “You did the right thing. – Ivo understood that,” said Jelana. She got up to fill Santino’s glass and poured herself a brandy, too.

  Santino raised his head. “He’s been here?”

  Jelana nodded and put a hand soothingly on her husband’s shoulder.

  “Yes, he was here to say goodbye and – to ask forgiveness.”

  “Why does he only ever go to his mother and never to me?” roared Santino, clearly insulted.

  “Because he’s just as stubborn as his father. You are so alike, and unless I’m very much mistaken, you also took pleasure in another man’s woman in your youth!”

  Santino snorted and sat up straight in his chair.

  “So does the lad necessarily have to copy all the sins of his father?” he ranted. “At his age I was already married to you. He should finally find himself a woman of his own instead of poaching on other peoples’ territories!”

  Jelana smiled knowingly and stroked Santino’s arm.

  “He will marry at some point. The right woman is already here – they just have to both accept first that they belong together.”

  Santino looked at his wife in amazement. Even after many years of marriage he still could not get used to the fact that his wife always knew more than he did.

  “How do you know that, woman?” doubt could be heard in his voice.

  “I may not be as strong as my mother, but I, too, have powers, as you know!”

  Oh, yes! And how he knew it! He uttered a disgruntled grumble and washed down his irritation with brandy.

  Jelana, likewise, took a large gulp of the strong brandy and sat down on the stool opposite her husband.

  “You speak in riddles, just like your mother. Did shetell you that Ivo will find a woman?”

  “I know it myself! Moreover
I have eyes in my head. You seem to be struck by blindness.”

  Santino grasped Jelana’s wrist roughly.

  “Ow!”

  “Don’t mock me, woman!” he threatened sinisterly.

  “I will make sure that your testicles shrivel if you don’t let go of me immediately!” hissed Jelana quietly, but in a tone equally threatening.

  “You witch!” snorted Santino miserably, but he let her go. His testicles were sacred to him and he would rather not take the risk.

  Jelana got up and passed her husband his tobacco and his pipe. She looked at him forgivingly and smiled.

  “Here. Relax. I’m going to the river again. It’s warm and I’d like to freshen up a little.

  Santino began to fill his pipe as Jelana left the caravan. A good pipe always helped to cool down his heated mood. It not only helped him to calm down again, but also to think more clearly.

  *

  Jelana ran almost without sound, as she had taken off her shoes. It was a dark night. The moon was hiding behind a dense cloud and hardly any stars could be seen, but it was still pleasantly warm. Most of the waggons were already dark – gentle candle light burned in only a few of them. It seemed that most people were already asleep. Only the guards were still sitting at the fire, but they did not notice the leader’s wife. Jelana ran in the direction of the river and then turned left. She knew where her son had set up his camp for the night. Slowly she approached the lonely waggon. It was still weakly lit – so Ivo was still awake. She had thought he would be. Ivo was not a man who went to sleep early. Quietly she knocked at his door and a little later her son opened it. The big Irish Wolfhound used this opportunity to dart out.

  “Mama? Whatever are you doing here? You know that you’re not allowed to come here.”