The Gypsy Queen Read Online Free PDF Page B

kingdom , his people, and she was well set with her travels, and that was that. Bastion let her go her way, for it was the only choice he had. It seemed better to accept that than to try and make it otherwise.
      To make matters worse, there was a rift between their peoples. An uneasy alliance existed, but the people in the kingdom didn’t trust gypsies, and the gypsies mistrusted the city folk right back. They feared each other, and derided each other sometimes. The city folk often discriminated against them and treated them poorly, calling them ‘dirty’, though many gypsies were decent to do business with- trading goods, telling fortunes, carnivals, and helping with harvests.
      “It is good to see you once more, Yana . I am happy to see you,” Bastion said.
      “It is good to see you too, Bastion,” she replied. Just then, that feeling washed over her lightly, the same one she had when she pressed in with him in the uproots of that tree. It felt like a magnet. It felt safe.
      “You seem so different now,” Yana said. She wasn’t angry at him, but she knew of his ‘business’ in the kingdom . “You were such a darling boy,” she added. 
      “You are just as I remember you, Yana ,” Bastion replied fondly.
      “Bastion,” Yana said, “Things are not as they once were. I fear the path you travel. I fear it for my people,” she said.
      Bastion stopped to consider her a moment, as she was now. The last time he had seen her was a poor circumstance. There had been a hanging three summers ago. A horse thief finally caught. It was grim enough, but the thief was a gypsy, and Bastion was grieved when his eyes met with Yana ’s in the gathering of people who witnessed it. Killing was a grim business, and Yana had just taken part in one as well, in the gulley last night with Bastion.
      Yana was a striking contradiction. She had the demeanor of a fearless warrior, unafraid of any challenge, adventure, or threat... and yet, she was a girl even still, a young woman now, and her heart was still obvious. She was a peaceful woman. She loved nature, and she loved her people. She did not love war, nor the death that accompanied it. She was certainly a survivor, as persevering the harshness of life gave her a hard strength. He was so pleased to see her simple beauty tonight, playing her harp and dancing with the children. That was the Yana he knew.
      “I fear for your people too, Yana ,” Bastion said.
      She cocked her head at him. “What do you mean?”
      “There have been kidnappings. Some from the cities, and some gypsies too. It is the only way to explain it,” he said. Yana nodded.
      “Aye. There have been people missing lately. I have heard stories. But who is to say that it is more than coincidence?”
      “The Moldavians you put arrows into,” Bastion replied. “We have information that they are stealing villagers and selling them into the slave trade in the Lower Reach.”
      Yana paused . What could that mean? What would it mean to her and her caravan? Her people? Then her thoughts came together.
      “This is why you followed me,” she stated. “Did you come to warn me?”
      “Worse,” he said. “I came to ask you to join me.”
      Yana was shocked. She hadn’t seen that coming. “I think I’ve helped far too much already,” she replied. “I am a gypsy, not a warrior.” She tried to recount the stories of the black ride rs she had heard of , that all connected to him. “I sprang two arrows for you, but my arrows are not for men. They are for rabbits.”
      “ Yana , I know you are a good tracker,” Bastion said.
      “How would you know such things?” she scoffed. “You know nothing of me!”
      He gave her a devious grin. “It is my business to know such things, Yana . It is known that you are a leader of gypsies. You are known in the city, and the villages.”
      “That means nothing!” she said. “The city folk only know that I can dance and