It took two days of Chase’s persistent chatter to pull my away from my hole. I ended up sulkily eating my bread with them and sullenly sipping at the water flask when it was passed to me. Chase’s mother didn’t say much neither did her brother but Chase talked all the time. I think he was glad someone would listen.
Chase told me about how he used to do an act with a pet monkey. Chase told me of all the cheeky thing the monkey would do like steal nuts from a vendor or tease soldiers. He told me about the time the monkey stuffed Chase’s sash in his mouth so Chase couldn’t find it. He told me how the monkey used to walk on its hand and poke its tongue out at rich ladies. Chase brought my smile back.
“Tell me,” I paused as my courage wavered before I pushed forward anyway, “who is Alistair?”
“I was wondering when you would ask. Frankly I don’t know. He came to us under the name Sean about four months ago. The others,” Chase’s mother glanced around the room briefly, “only Alistair knows how long they have been in here.” I felt like being sick. No wonder none of them talked.
“I fear your fate far more than mine or my son’s. I’ll tell you all I know about that man.” Chase’s mother said graciously before she began the story which reviled much about Alistair…
Four months ago a man who was traveling with a caravan met us. He told us a sorry story about how the caravan had been his father’s but because of his small talent he may lose it. He was rather courteous and submissive and was very excited when we offered him a job with us. He told us his name was Sean. I like him mostly because of his brilliant blonde hair. It was as if I was looking at what my son would one day become.
Anyway we travelled, I sung while my brother and Sean played away at their instruments. Sean’s playing was amazing and made many people stop to listen. Sean was kind to Chase as well, the two boys got along well. I had no qualms about him only curiosity. Sean didn’t talk about his family. He didn’t talk about his caravan any more than he had to. Every day he took food and water into his caravan and then left empty handed a few minutes later. But what most intrigued me was that he was nearly never in the caravan. He slept in outside in a tent or travelled to the town’s inn. I had assumed that he would sleep in his caravan but he didn’t.
After traveling with him for three months I couldn’t stand it any longer and picked the lock on the door of the caravan. There I saw these people who looked at me with fear until they realised I was someone else. The woman with the baby told me to run but instead I went to her to try and free her. The door slammed shut on me. I heard the click of the lock and I was trapped. I thought that it was a mistake at the time but the next day my son and brother burst in through the door.
We were all relieved to see each other that we didn’t see Sean until it was too later. My son was shackled first next my brother and finally he caught me. I demanded to know what he was doing and he explained it was all a trap. I demanded to know why he would trap fellow gypsies. He shrugged and told me the truth.
“It pays well” he said with a shrug, “I was sold as a slave to the King of Rarepella. I tried to escape many times and each time I got hurt until he promised me my freedom if I bring back all the salves which have escaped before me. As the years have gone on I found I enjoy this job much more than playing instruments. The king has given me a mansion for all my work, you know. And the king will give me any woman I want, not that I want his women. I’ve become an asset to the king”
I screamed my lungs out at the border but his paperwork meant no one would listen to me screaming in the back. He told fanciful stories like I was his younger sister and I didn’t want to get married or I have a rare disease and he was taking me to a remote area to kill or everyone would get infected. They all believed him. Then we stopped and he went to town to buy food and water when he returned, he had a delirious smile on his face.
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YOU ARE READING
Two Loves of a Gypsy
Historical Fiction"I was personally hoping we would never meet any man whom my parents would want me to marry. I don’t want to be someone else’s property. I don’t want to have ten kids. I want to dance for the rest of my life. So I’m never going to love anyone, that’...