by Sarah Price
Up ahead, two riders approached the caravan. Nicolae held his hand up and one by one, the wagons stopped. Straining her head, Sahara tried to see what was going on. Finally, Nicolae trilled his tongue and the wagons began moving. Nicolae headed down the line of wagons, quietly talking with the drivers as he rode alongside. When he stopped by the wagon ahead of her, Sahara tapped her foot impatiently. He should have come to me first, she thought selfishly as she watched him talking. His dark curly hair hung over his shoulders, gently blown by the breeze. His skin, still tanned bronze from the summer months, shimmered with beads of sweat. In the past few days, the air, although not warm, had lost the bitter chill of danger. Still, Sahara could feel a storm brewing nearby. The air, thick with the scent of rain, was cold enough for it to turn to snow as the night fell.
“Ah, S'hara. You should not frown so.” Nicolae smiled.
Ignoring his comment, Sahara questioned him, “Why did you make me wait so long? What did those men say?”
He laughed again, teasing her gently with his eyes. “They were admiring your beauty.”
His jovial mood angered her. She was tired from the long day and her body ached. The sweat poured down her neck and back. “Answer me! What is the news?”
“Cheer yourself, S'hara, or I shan't tell you anything!”
Her hair was tied back in a thick braid down her back. Thin wisps hung around her cheeks. They waved in the breeze. Her dark eyes shot arrows at him. The anger in her face amused him. For the past ten days, her agitation had increased, as had her discomfort. “The men said we are a day away from Wichita. Probably a day and a half with the caravan, yes? That means we are little more than a week away from camp. Does that please you, my nasty mooded bori?”
“It would please me more, Nicolae, if we were already there!”
He cocked his eyebrow, leaning forward to rub the mare's neck. “That is so, yes?” “You will taste my temper soon, Nicolae, if you continue this conversation.” Among other things, hiding Emilian's behavior from
Nicolae was wearing her nerves thin. She only restrained from informing Nicolae to keep peace among the travelling caravan.
Someone called Nicolae's name from behind. He looked in the direction, waving his hand to acknowledge he had heard. The people in the back were anxious to hear the news from the gadjo riders. “And I have much better things to do than anger you, S'hara. We will talk later, yes?” He didn't wait for her answer before nodding curtly and swinging the horse's head around to continue down the wagon line to spread the good news about Wichita.
Later that evening, when the horses were unhitched from the wagons and the cooking fires had died down to embers, Nicolae kept his promise to Sahara. Several men crouched around a fire, drinking their rakiya as they laughed, talking about the summer months. It occurred to Sahara that once they had escaped the threat of being caught in blizzards, the general mood of the gypsies had lightened. Sahara lingered at the edge of the warmth, shivering as she pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. The memories of summer seemed too far away. The days had been so carefree and full of life. Moving by day, dancing by night. She sighed to herself. She longed to dance again. After she had learned of her pregnancy, her dancing days had been curtailed. She loved the child she carried but how she longed to be rid of it. “If only I could dance again!”
“I didn't realize you missed it so, bori.”
Startled, Sahara jumped. She hadn't even noticed Nicolae's presence was missing from the circle of men seated around the fire. She wondered if he had been watching her the whole time she had stood in the shadows watching the men. “You frightened me.”
Barely could she see his reaction in the faint glow from the fires. From his low and slurred voice, she suspected he had drunk more than his share of rakiya. “Did I?” He stared at her, his dark eyes taking in her silhouette. Her long hair hung loose over her shoulders, shielding her more from the cold than her shawl did. “You are beautiful this evening, S'hara.”
A laugh escaped her throat. “Not long ago I was beautiful to you every evening.”
He reached a nervous hand out to touch her cheek. “So damn beautiful.” He whispered the words more to himself than to her. He seemed lost in thought, as if thinking back to their first days together. The silence lengthened. Softly, Sahara cleared her throat and broke his thoughts. Quickly, he snatched his hand away. “You have bewitched me, you have.”
The change of his tone frightened her. “Nicolae? What's wrong?”
Nicolae lifted the bottle that he held in his hand to his lips. When he pulled it away, he laughed. It rang evil and froze Sahara's heart. “My dear bori asks what is wrong, yes? Well, I shall tell you!” He took a drunken step toward Sahara, steadying himself before he bumped into her. “For seven months, I have loved you! Seven dreadful months!” He shook his finger at her, rakiya spilling out of the bottle. “Never once have you loved me back!”
Sahara held back the confused laughter that snuck into her throat. “Never once? I find that hard to believe!”
“You lie! When, tell me, when have you ever told me you love me? When?” His voice raised into a furious bellow, causing Sahara to shrink away from him. “I see how other men watch you. How they talk about you. You thought me blind, yes? Well, I'm not! And I'll have no more!”
“What are you talking about, Nicolae? You're speaking nonsense!”
Nicolae reached for her throat but snapped his hand away, thinking better of it. Turning around, he took a final swallow of rakiya before throwing the bottle down. “Late walks at night. Kindness toward the others. Quiet conversations with that damn...” Nicolae didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to for Sahara knew of whom he spoke. Nicolae whirled around, his eyes slanted and envious. “I see the color rise to your cheeks when
he speaks to you! No longer do you argue with me when I have to leave your side. You welcome it! As you do that man!”
Her hand shot out, slapping his cheek so loudly that several people at the fires glanced at them. Quickly, Sahara covered her face with her hands, crying as if she had been the one slapped instead of Nicolae. “How dare you! How dare you accuse me of being unfaithful to you!” Her tears wet her hands as she sobbed. “I've tried. Tried and tried to please you!” Dropping her hands from her face, Sahara stared up his dark figure, unable to see his reaction. “You always say how good a wife Duda is, how she doesn't question the Rom Baro or argue with him. Well, damn you, Nicolae! I've been just as good a wife as she and look what I get! Look at yourself! Haven't touched me in months. Hardly talk to me unless you have to. Never bring me things when you go off with the other men! Maybe I've never said I loved you but I certainly have shown it more than you have!” She sniffled, tossing her head back. “As for your brother, he, not I, is the one you should look at with suspicious eyes!”
Her last sentence caught his attention. Sobering immediately, Nicolae grabbed her shoulders in his strong hands and shook her none too gently. “What is this you speak of?” The terror in her eyes answered his question. Even in the dark, he could see her face pale and he felt her body tremble. She knew she had said too much in order to defend herself. Nicolae gave her another shake. “He hurt you, yes? He touched you, yes? You answer me, S'hara or I shall torture him even slower than I plan!”
She shook her head. She hadn’t meant that but she saw the immediate anger and distrust in Nicolae’s reaction. The tears streamed down her cheeks as she clutched at his arms. “You mustn't! He hasn't harmed me at all! I should've kept quiet. I spoke before I thought, `tis all.”
Nicolae eyed her. “Have you welcomed his actions?”
Sahara choked as she answered him. “Lord no! But you mustn't hurt him.”
Hating himself for wrongfully accusing her, Nicolae pulled Sahara tight against his chest, stroking her hair as he thought aloud. “By Beng, the lord of all that is evil, I will tear the heart out of his throat. How dark was it that I could not see my own bori's pain? And here I stand accusing her.” N
icolae held Sahara at arms length. “I curse him with E Martya. I will set right what I almost set wrong.” He planted a quick kiss on her forehead before dashing off into the night.
It took her a moment to clear her head. Nicolae knew and was going to kill Emilian. Damn him, she thought as she turned around, praying quickly to O Del for guidance. But the answer that came sent her racing into the darkness toward the wagons, holding back her tears of anger at Nicolae. Her boots clicked up the wooden stairs of the Rom Baro's wagon. Throwing the door open without knocking, Sahara stared into the dark cell. The thick scent of sickness hit her, almost making her gag. She turned her head, catching a breath of fresh air. The room was suddenly illuminated by the soft glow of an oil lantern. Sahara recognized Duda's hunched figure. Quickly, Sahara sought the Rom Baro. His thin, frail body was covered by many blankets as he laid on some pillows. In the light, Sahara realized with a growing apprehension that he was dying. “My God...” Her voice trailed off. She hadn't seen the Rom Baro recently but she never really noticed his presence except when the children crowded around him. Sahara met Duda's startled eyes. “How long?”
Duda shook her head. “E Martya lingers near.”
Sahara approached the Rom Baro and knelt by his side. Reaching out, she touched his forehead. It was burning and wet. “Rom Baro?” His eyes were shut tight and Sahara doubted he knew she was there. Sahara rested her hand on her enlarged stomach. She wondered if the Rom Baro's illness would hurt her unborn. Lifting her eyes to meet Duda's, Sahara sighed. “I am sorry, Duda. But I must not stay. There is the unborn to think of.” Duda nodded her head once in complete understanding. Sahara's unborn would one day lead the kumpania. Her responsibility was to the child and not the Rom Baro. “Besides, I must stop Nicolae. He's lost his mind and I fear for his brother’s life.” At once remembering her reasons for seeking the Rom Baro out, Sahara hurried out of the wagon.
The angry voices from the edge of the camp told Sahara where she could find the two men. She walked as fast as she could toward them. Both men turned around at her sudden but not unexpected appearance. Nicolae's face was twisted in such rage, Sahara almost backed away. Never had she witnessed him as angry. She reached out to touch his arm. “Nicolae, please.” Beads of sweat dotted his forehead. Aggravated, he brushed them off. “Leave, S'hara. This is a matter between men.”
Emilian caught Sahara's eye. His face, though paler than usual, seemed emotionless. “He is right, S'hara.”
Defiantly, she lifted her chin. “Why should I listen to you? You caused this trouble for yourself. Have I not warned you? And now, I am trying to save you. You are an ungrateful man, Emilian.” Without thinking, she spat on the ground by his feet, swishing her skirt around her ankles as she turned around and faced Nicolae. His eyes, though dark and full of anger, softened as he met her gaze. Sahara stared deep into his eyes. “And you! You speak of killing another man while your father lay dying not even two hundred paces away? What kind of son are you? That man, your father and our leader, will not live more than a week. You should be by his side, comforting him. Lord help your soul if I should ever lie ill and you are off fighting with another. I'd haunt your very soul until you gasped your last breath!”
Nicolae opened his mouth but nothing came out. He tore his eyes away from hers and stared at the ground. “I will go at once.” Before he turned to leave, Nicolae glanced at Emilian. “You, I have not finished with.” And he left.
Sahara faced Emilian, her hands on her hips. Something about her bronzed face and angry jet black eyes almost brought tears to his eyes. Her beauty was almost frightening. But he knew what was to follow this confrontation. Sahara took a deep breath, unaware of the sorrow Emilian felt. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Taking advantage of your people, your brother, and myself. May O Del curse your soul if you ever pain a woman again like you have pained me. You are lucky I care enough about life to have stopped my husband. When he left me, he wanted to rip your heart out.”
Emilian cleared his throat. He was well aware of Nicolae's purpose that evening. The words spoken between the two men had not been pleasant. “If I had not done the same to him first!” But he knew the battle was lost. “You were mine first, S'hara!”
“And now I am his!”
“From the moment I saw you, I fell in love with you. Is that a crime, S'hara?” Emilian took a step forward, too aware that Sahara tensed as he did. “I never deceived you. I never lied to you. I would have taken you back to your gadjo world and...”
Sahara shook her head. “But I am not gadjo, Emilian!” She glared up at him. “This is where I belong. I was never happy before and now, hard as I fought it, I am home at last!”
His brow wrinkled as if confused. “You are mine.”
“Say no more. It's too much.” Sahara turned her back on him, chewing on her knuckle. My Lord, she thought, this man believes what he is saying! She heard Emilian take a step forward but she held her hand up. “No! I won't have it. You will leave in the morn and go to Springfield. You will forget me and honor your eternal mahrime. Never will you try to find this kumpania and never, ever will you breathe my name from your lips.”
Emilian's face fell. “You break my heart.”
Straightening her shoulders, Sahara pressed her lips together tightly. “I have my husband, my child, and my people to think of.” Shutting her eyes, Sahara took a deep breath. She hated having to speak so harshly to Emilian. Yet, she knew if his behavior continued, the two brothers would end up fighting to the death. Had not Nicolae been so concerned about getting the kumpania south it would certainly already have happened. “Good bye, Emilian,” she said, hoping her voice sounded as cold as her words. She walked away, heading for the Rom Baro's wagon, never looking back at the man she left in the shadows.
Amaya did not know where she was going, only that she had to save her daughter. She had to also save herself. The boy’s touch had triggered something in both of them: fear in Amaya and lust in Emilian. Yet, she knew that he was no longer a boy. He was a man. In gypsy culture, he would have been taking a wife soon…if he had not been promised to Sahara. As his peers took their wives, Emilian would continue to grow impatient and dangerous. It was a chance that Amaya could not take with either her daughter or herself.
Amaya knew that he had been right. If she traveled as far away as she could and settled into a non-traveling life, she could live to see her daughter escape the fate of marriage to Emilian. On the other hand, Amaya knew that every day would bring her daughter closer to death if they stayed. He would never wait for Sahara to turn into a woman before he took her or killed her. That much was clear.
It pained her to leave the Rom Baro. He had been good to her and the promise of their future had been great. But it could not be at the expense of her daughter. The memory of the man at the fires in Europe haunted her. He was Sahara’s father and she had to protect the memory of those nights of love. Sahara was the product, the proof that it had happened.
Chapter Twenty
The music warmed the weary caravan. The last wagon had pulled into the enormous gypsy campsite only an hour before. The tents were already set up and the children racing about. The air, although lacking the heat of summer, defrosted their tired souls. Sahara sighed as she looked around. It was exactly as she had imagined. The fires that burned reminded her of the first days she had been on the road with Nicolae. The happier days. The music, wild and flamboyant, raced the blood in her veins. Young girls danced around the fires, stamping their feet in the dust, throwing their heads back as they trilled their tongues. All around the outskirts of the camp the horses were tied in separate herds. Several dogs chased the small packs of children, nipping at their heels playfully.
Confused and timid, Sahara stuck by Duda's side. The sight of so many strange gypsies frightened her. The younger gypsies ignored her, noticing her condition. While Nicolae could force his own people to overlook Sahara's pregnancy, he could not make the other kumpani
as break tradition. The Rom Baro had gained some of his strength back although death was lingering nearby. None of the other gypsies knew of their Rom Baro's grave sickness but some suspected he had taken ill.
Gathering some of her courage, Sahara broke away from Duda's side, impatient and fidgety because she had nothing to do. A little less than a month until her due date, she could hardly help anyone. Biting her lip and her fear, she started walking toward the crowd. At first, no one took notice of her. The dancing continued and the drunken men stood around, admiring the many single women of impure virtue. But it was Sahara that stopped their chatter. One man dropped his bottle of rakiya and pointed, unable to speak. Slowly, as Sahara walked among them, the crowd silenced and the music stopped. The gypsies murmured softly among themselves, parting where she wanted to walk. One old woman dared to approach her. She stared intently into Sahara's face before noticing the white streak over her ear. Her face paled and she began praying in some language Sahara didn't understand.
“Sahara!” As if by miracle, Nicolae pushed his way through the crowd and took her arm. Sahara clung to him, her eyes wide with fright. Tenderly, he laid his hands on her cheeks and tilted her head up. Each time he looked at her, her beauty startled him. Gently, he scolded her. “I told you to stay near Duda, yes? You decided against it. Why?”
She responded softly, “I was bored, Nicolae. Why are they staring at me so strangely?”
Nicolae had wanted to find her people before anyone saw her. He knew they would react strongly to her presence. Amaya was legend among the gypsies and her daughter often thought of as myth. Nicolae had known everyone would realize Sahara was Amaya's daughter just from taking a look at her. Looking into Sahara's large, childlike eyes, Nicolae smiled. “Come, I have someone for you to meet.” Gently, he took her arm and started to lead her through the wide-eyed, open-mouthed crowd. The silence annoyed him but