I have always enjoyed going to the marketplace. In every town it’s different and that is what makes it so enjoyable. The smells of spices, animals and sweat hang in the air. Sellers hollered to busy people trying to bring them in. People pushed pass each other in a frantic dance to find what they were seeking.
I found as I poked my nose into each stall that all the sellers had unique and different smells. The farmers selling vegetables smelt of soil and sweat. The fruit sellers of flowers and apples. The butchers or blood and metal. The wool merchants of oil and sheep. But my favourite were the spice merchants. They smelt like the spices they brought. I could imagine clouds of coloured spices surrounding them. They reminded me of my travels and drew me back to the foreign countries I had travelled.
My mother called me over to her. I ran to her and she places a weathered hand on my black hair. She smiled at me.
"Where did you get off to?" she glanced at my father, "Val the crowd is gathering" I nodded and smiled. It was time for our show.
I took of my dark purple cape to reveal my dancing clothes. My pants, which sat on my hips bellowed out then curved back in. The fabric was a rich and bright green. The pants were from a desert town we visited less than a year ago. My top was my favourite part of the outfit. It was white with light green beads sown onto it. It had no sleeves and was tight around my bust but after that the material rippled outwards.
I took my long golden scarf and steeped forward. I stood between my family and the crowd. My aunt began to strum the chord of her instrument. I began to dance.
As the melody played I knew where to place my feet. How my arms were meant to move. At first slow a steady but the music turned becoming faster and faster. My bare feet slapped the ground. My hands clapped together in time with the music. My aunt played a four string instrument from a town in the jungle. My mother played a flute which belonged to her father. Its old wood was delicate as it was hand carved.
I wonder every time I dance for the crowds if I am making someone happy. Do they see how hard I’m trying? Do they see how I love it? Do they watch my blue eyes which are filled which joy? But I do not glance at them, I just concentrate. On the next step, on the music, on the clanging of metal again metal when they chuck coins into the old black hat. The more I hear the more I feel emerged in the dance.
The music stopped but I kept dancing. I was so deep into my dance that I didn't realise the worried expression on my parents’ faces. A hand grabbed my arm and pulled me away. The sound of coins falling on the cobblestones sounded and it seemed as if it echoed throughout the whole market.
I heard a shout as my father pulled me into a run. I spotted my aunty picking up my cape as my mother held the hat full of coins to her chest. We ran. I did not know from whom but I did know why. I knew I had to run.
I heard more shouting from behind I dared only to look back at my mother. My aunty had run to collect my uncle and their son. When they were reunited they would have time to blend in and then slowly return to the inn. We had already been found and so we would just have to keep running until we lost them.
I heard shouting but it was further away. It made me calm down a bit, I knew we were safe now. I turned to my mother who had a gleam in her eyes.
"What’s going on mother?" I asked
"Look at all the gold" she peeled the hat off her chest to shown me the stash of bronze and silver coins. Tucked away under the other coins sat five golden coins which gleamed almost as much as my mother's eyes. My father came and joined our huddled. A frown crossed his face.
"That’s more than we usually make" I looked at his face trying to read his expression but his face was blank possibly thoughtful. He was right though, we rarely got gold coins and if we did it was from nobles or upper class citizens. It was odd to get gold from a market and for just a single dance.
"Something about this town is off." he muttered under his breath then said clearly "we should leave tonight." my mother and I nodded in agreement; it usually took a few days before guards came after us. To be found out the second we started preforming was definitely off putting.
"Oh, here's your cape Val" my mother handed me the dark purple cape. It's silky texture a comfort but its warmth even more so. I fastened it and smiled happily as it rested on my shoulders. I touched my neck. Then searched it.
“Oh no” I muttered under my breath. It was gone. I should have looked after it more carefully. It was so old and the clasp had rusted so much that it was bound it fall off. I shouldn’t have worn it.
“What’s the matter sweetheart?” my mother asked turned round concerned.
“Nothing I’ll meet you back at the inn.” I said. I would have to hunt it down. I turned to leave but a hand grabbed my arm.
“No you were the one dancing if the guards see you then they will seize you immediately. I have a better chance. Now what is it.” I bit my lip. It was my fault so I should go find it right? I shook the thought off. My father was right.
“The Black Water stone. I’ve lost grandmother’s black water stone” I said. My parent exchanged glances. Relief washed over their faces. It wasn’t much but it was my grandmother’s most prized possession before she died a little over three years ago. The stone was a dark blue stone that was so dark it look almost black. There was a hole through the oval near the top. My grandmother told me she had found it near a crystal lake. She would always say “if you look through the hole you’ll be able to see the fairies”. It’s not true but it was all I had left of her.
“Don’t worry; most people won’t even think anything of it. I’ll find it for you. Go with you mother I’ll meet you at the tavern and then we’ll head to the caravan.”
“But it’s my stone. I’ll come with you” determination rose up in me.
“No! Go with your mother” my father said harshly. I felt as if I had blown up a balloon only for my father to come along with a pin and pop it.
“Fine, but if you can’t find it I’m going to look for it too” I folded my arms over my chest. My father smiled.
“well now I’m certain to find it” He kissed my mother’s forehead then mine, “I’ll see you again later tonight” and with that he pulled the cowl of his own cape over his head and left to return to the marketplace to search for the Black Water stone.
“Let’s get to that tavern” my mother commented but I couldn’t turn away. Something down in my gut was warning me, something was to come.
YOU ARE READING
Two Loves of a Gypsy
Ficción histórica"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’...