The Thief, The Beggar, and the Dragonstone

Chapter 3

As they left the Carnival and the evening breeze settled, John and Hez shared their fondness for different attractions. John talked about the acrobatic women on the suspended wire, while Hez raved about the lively storytellers. Hez grasped Nivian's hand as they joined a group from the Azulpozo caravan, comprising of relatives and friends, for their journey back. 

Aunt Morgan walked in the back of the group with Hez's younger brother. Jack would never associate with the crowd, even if they were his clan.

Granny Bramble required Nivian to be home by dark. Hez wished for her to stay, as there were still festivities to take part in. Hez wanted to kiss Nivian but it would have been awkward to do so in front of everyone. As they approached Granny's shanty, Hez watched Nivian walk inside and felt a tinge of sadness. 

 Getting back to the caravan was a pleasant walk. There was already merriment going on in the camp. A feast was being prepared, and an area was being cleared for dancing. John, Hez, and Jack assisted with setting things up.

That evening, the Gypsy camp was alive with singing and dancing as they celebrated the Harvest. Hez observed the joyful scene as men and women twirled around the fire at the camp's center. Colorful gypsy clothing made a beautiful kaleidoscope throughout the settlement. The air was filled with the sweet melodies of fiddles and flutes, while Mrs. Drurwell's dulcimer and her husband's juice harp added to the festive atmosphere. And the food! Everywhere Hez looked, there were meat pies, cakes, and candied fruits to indulge in. An ox, which Mr. Calcraft gave the caravan, rested on an open fire pit.

As the Harvest celebration at the Gypsy camp reached its peak, Hez couldn't help but notice Jack lurking in the shadows. He seemed to relish in the festivities from afar, never fully joining in. Hez thought of him as a ghost, haunting the caravan ever since Gertrude's passing. Despite the warm atmosphere and delicious treats surrounding them, Jack remained aloof. Hez caught his eye, but he quickly retreated back into the shadows. Jack loved the shadows.

Laughter filled the air as John danced around the fire. Taking Mrs. Molly's hand, they twirled past her husband, who raised his mug of ale in salute. John towered over the others, his height making him stand out even more.

  It would have been great if Nivian could have been there. But Granny wouldn't let her come. Hez imagined how wonderful it would be to dance with her, twirling her around under the stars.

Aunt Morgan, the Phuri dai, smiled and tapped her foot to the music. She tried to coax Jack out to dance with some of the younger women. Eventually, Bekki, an older girl, took his hand, and they began to dance. Surprisingly, Jack was quite a skilled dancer. However, the girls around his age seemed to be afraid of him and remained hesitant to approach him.

It was said that gypsies came dancing out of the womb, as if they were born with the rhythm in their blood. Whether it was a celebration or just a regular evening after dinner, they would bring the fiddle and lute out, and the dancing would begin. It seemed as though there was always an excuse to dance among the gypsies.

 It would have been nice to have his parents there. Though his mother was like Jack, liking to hang back from the crowds. He hoped she was well. 

Hez's mind fixated on the Dragonstone, wishing he could get it. His conscience struggled to justify taking it, but the real dilemma was how to acquire it. He knew he wasn't a thief, despite having taken items that weren't rightfully his in the past.

John was twirling around the fire with his cousin, their laughter echoing through the night. In gypsy culture, family was everything, and clan cousins were often as close as siblings. They shared everything, from their meals to their secrets, and always had each other's backs. It was a tight-knit community, where everyone knew each other's business, but also where everyone looked out for each other. Hez felt grateful for the clan's presence, knowing that he could always count on them. One of the gypsy mottos was "Family is the most important thing you will ever acquire."