Gypsy's Quest

by Nikki Broadwell

  I smiled despite myself. “I live up there.” I pointed up the hill where the roof of my tiny shack peeked out between the trees.

  “Solti’s place. She’s a good soul.” He turned his head, looking up at the sky. “I need to find a room for the night. I chose this protected harbor because a storm approaches from the north.”

  I turned toward his boat, watching it lift as a wave came in—a delicate dance of wood on water. “But the sky’s completely clear and there’s barely a breath of wind.”

  “See the wisps of clouds there?” He pointed toward some innocuous looking clouds I hadn’t noticed. “Those are mare’s tails and they forewarn of an approaching storm. It will arrive late tonight just before your child makes his entry into this world and opens his mouth to take in his first breath. It’s a good portent to be born during a storm. The baby will be strong because of this.”

  I stared at him. I hadn’t felt any contractions and had no indication that tonight was the night. Solti had assured me it would be at least another week.

  “Do you have a midwife?”

  “Solti said she would help me, but I think you’re wrong.” I placed my hands on my belly. It did seem as though the baby had dropped a bit.

  Kafir nodded. “I’ll be on my way then. Make sure you contact Solti. This babe will be born before morning.” With that he turned away, heading toward the village.

  I watched him go, wondering about his predictions, the irritating surety of the man. I was still angry and upset with him. Why was he being so mysterious?

  ***

  It was close to midnight when I woke. My water had broken and I was lying on a cold wet bed. When I stood up a pain jigsawed through my belly, so sharp I cried out. Outside a storm was brewing—I could hear the gusting wind, the rattle of raindrops against the glass. Why hadn’t I heeded Kafir’s warning and spoken to Solti? It was too late to go for help now—this baby was on the way.

  The pains kept coming, the force of them more and more excruciating. At some point I took to the floor, writhing around in agony as each one ripped through my body. I heard myself screaming as if from afar, my mind aware of nothing but pain. Lightning flashed every few minutes, as though in rhythm with each contraction.

  Sweat was in my eyes, my hair damp with it. On all fours now I felt like an animal, grunting as the pains rolled through me. I had no idea how much time had gone by or if my labor was getting me anywhere. Women do this every day; I’ll get through it, I told myself in a moment of lucidity. But as the moments ticked by I began to wonder. Something was wrong—either the baby was breech or I didn’t have the strength to birth him. Tears joined the sweat on my face sending salt into my open mouth. When the next contraction hit, I screamed, terror racing through me. A roll of thunder echoed my anguished cry. Shortly after that I had a moment when the world went dark, followed immediately by a rush of adrenaline. If I passed out we would both die. From then on I was in a sort of twilight place, barely aware of what was going on. When I saw Kafir come through the door I was sure I was hallucinating. I was going to die here alone. As another pain nearly ripped me in two, my howl of terror filled my consciousness, drowning out the thunder. I could no longer see, could no longer feel. Everything went black.

  ***

  When I woke up I was on the sleeping pallet wearing a clean cotton nightgown that didn’t belong to me. Lying close by me was my baby, a thick thatch of dark hair covering the tiny head. I carefully opened the blanket to inspect my newborn—a boy. I was crying now, my tears wetting the front of my gown and falling onto him. How had I managed to get myself dressed and into bed? Maybe Solti had come after all, but if she had, I had no recollection of it.

  Memories flashed through my mind as I lay dozing, my baby at my breast. I was somewhere dark and awful where the sun never shone. I was with a man who had no respect for me—treating me like his whore. My eyes flew open. The father of my baby was Brandubh, the priest who I’d been in love with in the Otherworld. But now the thought of him made me shudder in horror, his cruelty all that I remembered.

  A tiny cry brought my attention to my baby who had come unlatched, his features distraught. I settled him against me again, watching his eyes close as he sucked. I was buttoning up my gown when the door flew open.

  Kafir was backlit, his features obscured. “How are you feeling?”

  “I haven’t been out of bed yet, but so far I feel all right, although I could definitely use the privy.”

  “I’ll help you. You lost a lot of blood.”

  “So I didn’t dream it—you were here.”

  He nodded. “The baby was breech.”

  “Kafir, if you hadn’t come when you did…”

  “No need to thank me. I had a feeling something wasn’t right and when Sven told me that Solti was away, I thought I’d better check on you. Here, grab me around the neck.”

  Kafir stayed for an hour, filling me in on the details of the birth. I had been delirious when he arrived, nearly unconscious. His expert maneuvering of the baby’s position allowed him to be born. “How do you know how to do this?”

  “I think I told you when we were up on the mountain that I have two sons. I served as midwife for both the births.”

  “No, you didn’t. Where is your wife now? Why aren’t you with her?”

  “We decided to call it quits. Ella’s with another man.”

  “What about your sons?”

  “I’ll make a fire—it’s cold in here.” He was out the door before I could protest, coming back a few minutes later with an armload of firewood. His bright hair curled at his shoulders, falling in several ringlets. Once the fire was going he turned. “What you need now is a good long rest and some nourishing food. And I’ve brought you some special tea. Can you stomach it?”

  “What kind?”

  “Alfalfa and yarrow, both good for excess bleeding. You should have been using the alfalfa earlier; it would have helped during the birth.”

  “By the way, where did you find this nightgown?”

  “Foy got it from a woman in town. He’s been keeping watch, did you know that?”

  “He told me he would, but why wasn’t he here when I went into labor? I’m sure all of Fell heard my screams.”

  “He was down at the Inn when I stopped in for a beer, said he was going into the forest to see his mate and his family. I told him I would take over until he got back. I’ve left clean rags and there’s warm water there,” he pointed at the iron bar over the fireplace where a pot hung. “The tea is in the pot on the hearth. Can you manage?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll be back later to check on you.”

  “Okay…but…” Before I could ask another question he was out the door and away. The baby chose that moment to wake up, his cries taking all my attention.

  Later I hobbled over to the fire and poured myself another cup of tea, coming to grips with how backward this place was. There was no convenience store where I could buy diapers, baby food or any of the other things I needed. Water was difficult to come by and heavy to carry and I would obviously need a lot of it over the next few weeks. I waited for Kafir, sitting upright in bed and struggling to keep my eyes open. As night came on I gave in, closing my burning eyes and snuggling in next to the baby.

  I only woke once to feed the baby. Kafir had not returned. In the morning I rose to make

  a trip to the privy and on my way back I walked barefoot through the mud to the edge of the hill to look down on the harbor. The boat with the red sails was gone. Outside my front door a basket filled with apples, eggs, cheese and bread had been left, making me even more aware of Kafir’s absence. I struggled against tears as I carried it inside, putting it down to build up the fire. When the baby woke I brought him over by the warmth to feed him, holding him with one hand while I used the other to stuff cheese and bread in my mouth. All the jostling upset him and before I could get him settled there was a tentative knock on the door. “Come in,” I called, expecti
ng to see Kafir. Instead when the door opened, it revealed Foy.

  “I came to see him and to make sure you were all right.”

  “Here he is,” I said irritably, handing the baby to him.

  Foy took him from me, staring steadily down for several moments. “Well, he certainly has a lot of hair.” He gave the baby back to me, holding him out with both arms like a sack of meal.

  “Do you have any children?”

  Foy grinned. “Not yet but we spend a lot of time trying. I suppose the trying is the most fun part of it,” he added, gazing skeptically at my baby. “What’s his name?”

  I opened my mouth to reply, and then realized he didn’t have one. “I haven’t named him.”

  “I would suggest Pan, since he’s the most famous of my lot. It’s a good name, don’t you think?”

  “Well, he isn’t a satyr, and I’m thinking about naming him after Kafir.”

  “Why don’t you call him Rifak, Kafir spelled backwards?”

  “Foy that’s a great idea!” I tried out the name on the baby but he seemed oblivious, his eyes closed, his breathing deep and regular. “Where did Kafir go this time? One minute he was here and then the next…poof…gone again.”

  Foy’s strange eyes darted back and forth before he answered. “He told me he had to be somewhere to see a man. He asked me to look after you.”

  “That sounds implausible and made up. I can’t figure him out; one minute he’s helping me through the most intimate of all events and in the next he’s taking off without saying good bye.”

  “You scare him.”

  “Me? Why?”

  Foy glanced out the window. “Possibly you threaten his way of life.”

  “I didn’t ask anything of him although I’m extremely glad he was here; I would have died otherwise. But other than that he can do whatever he pleases.”

  Foy stared at me with a skeptical expression. “Hmm…”

  “Have you met his wife and his children?” Ella. I imagined her with long blonde hair, a little bit overweight but only enough to be appealing, with full curves and rosy cheeks. Young and robust in the fullness of life, unlike me, a haggard woman past her prime.

  Foy shook his head. “She lives in a place called Glantsgo.”

  “Glasgow, Scotland?” Home wasn’t so far after all.

  “Not Glasgo—Glantsgo. It is an isle a few days’ sail from here. The people who live there are traders and pirates and mercenaries. It is a very bad place.”

  I moved to the bed placing Rifak on his side and then sat next to him. “Sorry, Foy. I have to sleep.” I put my head on the pillow and closed my eyes. I didn’t hear the satyr leave.

  I woke once to feed Rifak and then fell asleep again, dreaming of the sea, swimming weightless in blue-green depths. Sunlight slanted into the water finding me where I glided beneath the surface. I felt fishlike and sinuous, carried by the currents and eddies. Bubbles rose, picking up the light and flashing silver before they burst at the surface. Kafir swam beside me, reflections moving across his naked body, his gold red curls floating through the water like bright seaweed.

  I woke with an intake of air, the dream images making me weak with longing. Rifak was asleep, dark lashes against pale skin, his mouth moving in a dream of eating. I felt sad, lost in a place I didn’t choose, unable to find my way home. The one person I thought I could count on had left, taking all my hopes along with him.

  Chapter Four

  Far Isle-2450

  With Solti and Foy’s help I recovered from the birth, my days spent sleeping, feeding Rifak and eating. When I became strong enough to walk into town, I spent a lot of my days there, talking with people and making friends. Most didn’t seem to mind that I was single with a tiny infant and the fact that Solti and Foy had seemingly adopted me made them all the more accommodating. Tara was a seamstress, a woman a few years younger than I, and she had invited me in for tea several times, telling me all her troubles as we passed the baby back and forth. She’d been married but her husband was lost at sea when he was a guest on a fishing vessel. A storm had come up suddenly and all hands had gone down with the boat. They had no children.

  She wore her gray-brown hair in braids wound at the back of her head and I asked her to show me how to do this.

  “It is not so difficult.” Tara undid my one braid and then re-braided my hair into two. “You wind them like so, and then hook them under each other to hold. If you need a way to keep them in place I have a few pins I fashioned from silver wires. My husband, Bram, was a jeweler.”

  “Do you have a mirror?”

  She nodded, going to a desk at the back of the room. I heard her rummaging around and when she came back she held out an old-fashioned silvered hand mirror.

  Reflected in the mottled glass I saw an older woman with dark circles under her eyes. “Where in the world did you get this?”

  “The traders brought it. I paid dearly for it.”

  I turned to see the side of my head and the braids. “Do you know Kafir? He’s a trader.”

  “Of course I know Kafir.”

  Her cheeks turned pink making me wonder if there was more to this story. “Did he bring you the mirror?”

  “No, he wasn’t the one. I don’t remember the man’s name. He was rough and not someone I wished to spend time with. Now Kafir, he’s a different matter. If I had my way we would be living together.” She smiled, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

  I opened my mouth and closed it. “Are you…I mean have you and Kafir…?

  Tara laughed. “Not yet. He’s a friend but…”

  “…you wish it were more.”

  Tara nodded, handing the baby back to me. “He disappears though, and I wouldn’t want that in a husband. Bram spent nearly every night in my bed and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I know women whose men go off to sea, leaving them alone for months at a time. I’ve seen the haunted look in their eyes while their husbands are away.”

  “So tell me, how often does Kafir come to Fell?” I asked, trying to keep my expression neutral.

  Tara stared at me for a moment and then looked down at the baby in my arms, her mouth opening. “Ach. I should have noticed. His name is Kafir spelled backwards. Kafir’s the father.”

  “No, Tara, he isn’t, but he did help me through the birth, which was very difficult. Without Kafir I’m sure I would have died. That’s the only reason I named the baby Rifak.”

  Tara visibly relaxed, letting out a long sigh. “He is very skilled in a great many areas. As far as when he comes, it varies.” She turned away, her attention going to the teapot beside her. “More tea?”

  “No, thank you. I should be going.” I wrapped Rifak into my shawl and headed for the door. “Thanks for the tea and company,” I called over my shoulder. “And the braids!”

  Outside I grappled with this new development. Tara obviously had designs on Kafir and it suddenly hit me that I did too.

  ***

  The days slipped by, temperate and peaceful, and I stopped worrying about the sorceress. I had remembered Adair by now, knew she was Brandubh’s mother and my baby’s grandmother. I hoped Rifak wouldn’t take after her. Why she had accosted me on the hill I’d given up trying to figure out. She couldn’t have known I was pregnant with her son’s child.

  Foy had been neglecting his guard duties. It had been several days since he’d come by for the food I cooked to pay him for his services. When I asked about him at the Inn, Sven frowned.

  “That slack-about hasn’t been around here for at least a week. I count on him since I don’t have time for all the chores. If you see him, tell him to get his lazy goat-self back here. I need him.”

  “Sven, do you have any idea when Kafir might be back? I didn’t get a chance to thank him properly for saving my life.”

  The innkeeper’s eyebrows shot up. “And what might ‘properly’ entail?” He laughed lewdly, arousing the attention of several guests.

  My face grew hot despite my attempts to maint
ain my cool. “I don’t appreciate your assumptions. I only meant that I could make him a meal or…”

  Sven roared with laughter. “There are not many like you in town. It is only my way of making a joke. I’m sure you’re not a hora.”

  “I hope so because I would hate to have you spreading rumors. And what do you mean by ‘like you’?”

  “Only that you’re different, with your dark hair and skin; men might find you desirable.” He cocked his head, appraising me for a moment before continuing. “If you want news of Kafir talk to Tamar, the shepherd. He has regular dealings with the man.” With that he turned away, his attention on another customer who had walked in.

  ***

  Two weeks later I asked Sven for directions to the shepherd’s house. The weather was turning cold and I feared if I didn’t go soon there would be snow in the hills. It took over an hour to find the wooly animals weaving through the heather. The sun was low now, and I could see my breath, the winter angles and the elevation making the temperature plummet. I pulled my cloak close around me, adjusting the baby in his sling as I searched the hillside. In the distance a man with a couple of dogs was rounding up the sheep. “Halloo!” I called out, cupping my hands around my mouth. He turned and then waved. I headed through the prickly bushes, unhooking them from my skirt and cloak as I worked my way toward him.

  The shepherd was tall and gangly, somewhere in his mid to late fifties. His salt and pepper hair was tied back and the eyes he turned on me were a piercing blue.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked, his manner less than friendly.

  “My name is Gertrude and I was hoping you could shed some light on a friend of mine, Kafir. I heard that he trades with you on a regular basis?”

  Tamar looked puzzled, his gaze going to the ground. “Kafir,” he repeated. “Oh yes, the sailor.”

  “Do you know where he lives? How often do you see him?”

  Tamar frowned. “Why do you ask?”