Gypsy's Quest Read online

  “I hope it’s soon,” I muttered, realizing I had to use the facilities again. Walking down the hall my thoughts were on Kafir the mercenary, a man who lived on the edge. I was stuck in this place until we completed our mission. And as far as I knew Gypsy was our only way out of here.

  When I got back to the room Kafir and Gunnar were discussing plans in low tones. They had decided it would be Gunnar who would approach one of Raven’s men since Kafir was too well known.

  “Didn’t you say that women from the temple were worth a lot of money?” I interjected. “If I wear the chemise and show the tattoo I can be bait. You could tie my hands and…”

  “It’s too dangerous,” Kafir interrupted.

  “Why? You’ll have charge of me at all times. Since I’m a valuable commodity you can insist on meeting the headman—I assume this Raven person is Brandubh. It will look as though you’re taking me to auction.”

  “This is not a bad idea,” Gunnar offered. “But if Brandubh wants you for himself he will see us as a threat and it could get ugly.”

  “If he was being honest in Amalthea he’ll welcome me. If not we’ll have a fight on our hands. I only want to find Rifak and get out of here.”

  Kafir ran his hands through his tangled hair, his eyes on the floor. “If he does welcome you, his men may grow restive. They’ll see you as money in their pockets that he’s taking away. Rifak will be stashed somewhere out of danger and you’ll need to find out where that is. I’m not sure we can keep you safe.”

  “I’ll talk with one of the men Sargo pointed out—give him a message for Raven. Does he know you as Gertrude or Gypsy?” Gunnar asked.

  “Gertrude. If Adair is here we need to make a different plan. Maybe you can ask one of those men?”

  “Sargo told me they frequent that particular bar nearly every day. I’ll go tomorrow after lunch and see what I can find out. While I’m gone you can go to the boat and prepare.”

  “I’ll try …”

  “You still look a proper woman,” Kafir offered. “Curves in all the right places. You need only wear the clothes that show them off.”

  I looked away, staring out the grimy window, a little shiver of hope moving through my midsection. My arms ached for the feel of my baby. He would be so changed; I couldn’t imagine how much he must have grown in the many months since I’d seen him.

  “I’ll enlist a couple of men to stand by in case things get out of hand,” Gunnar said. “But my magic should suffice. Kafir, you and I need to do a little reconnaissance before we embark on this venture.” Kafir looked up and then the two of them moved toward the door.

  “What about me?”

  Gunnar turned as if he had forgotten my existence entirely. “You better wait here. This could be difficult with you in tow.”

  “Thanks a lot.” I frowned, sitting down on the bed. What in hell was I going to do alone in this room while the ‘men’ were out gathering information?

  Kafir gave me a sheepish look before following the druid out of the room. “Sorry. But please, whatever you do, stay put this time. And make sure you lock this door.”

  When the door banged shut behind them I locked it, my thoughts distracted. How could I have been so off base about Kafir? Maybe his character was why Dancer refused him entry into the temple; but I couldn’t deny what he had done for me. Without his help I’d be back in Fell with no way to track down Rifak. He was like a split personality—one side kind and loving, the other a roughneck who traded contraband. An insistent knock made me jump. Back so soon? But something made me pull the robe on before opening the door.

  “You lot need to pay up,” the man from downstairs demanded. “If you don’t, you three are out on your collective ears.”

  I mimed that I couldn’t speak, gesturing to my mouth.

  “Don’t play dumb with me. If I don’t have coin in my hand in an hour you’re ousted. Do you understand?”

  I nodded and closed the door. I would have to find Kafir and Gunnar.

  I dressed in the pants and shirt, covering the tattoo with the bandana before I left the room, and then hurried down the stairs and out the door before the manager could see me. I thought my best bet was the Black Barrel. If they weren’t there I would try the bar where we met Sargo. I was nervous, my hands shaking as I entered the dark bar. No one looked up as I walked toward the back, my eyes adjusting to the dimness. Low conversations and laughter continued as I searched. There was no sign of them.

  “Hey! Do ye want a drink or no?”

  The bartender was looking my way, his gaze suspicious. I put my hand in my pocket and then showed him my empty palm, shrugging.

  “Go on with ye then.” He turned back to a customer.

  Outside I let out my breath. Now, if I could remember where that other bar was…

  It had begun to rain, the drops cold on my head and neck. I wandered down a side street, trying to place it. I remembered the lamppost at the corner but after that nothing seemed familiar. I kept going. The rain was harder now, the muslin shirt sticking to my skin. People walked past me with their heads down, intent on their business. At the next corner I tried to make sense of things. An apothecary stood on one side of the street and on the other was a place to buy grains and other staples. Yes, this was the way we had come. The bar wasn’t far now. The sign caught my eye before I reached it: Sailor’s Haven. Please let them be inside. At the door two men turned to stare at me. One looked in his twenties, lank hair hanging in his eyes, his clothes dirty and full of holes. An ugly ragged scar ran from the corner of his eye to his chin. The other one was older, rougher looking with hooded dark eyes that scared me. I followed their gaze to the front of my shirt, realizing too late what they were seeing.

  “A woman here is not safe,” the scarred one said, moving toward me. The other one laughed harshly. “Not safe at all.”

  I moved backward, stumbling in the mud.

  “We’ll have to take you into our custody,” the first man said, grabbing my wrist. I tried to wrench away but his grip was like iron.

  “I know someone who will take care of her and keep her safe,” the second man said. “She could fetch an ingot or two.”

  “Let’s see what we have here.” When Scarface pulled the bandana off my head, his eyes went wide. “She’s a priestess!”

  “You’re comin’ with us.” Before I could protest, the man with the scary eyes had looped a rope around my neck. “Tie her hands, Melir. We need to take her to Raven.”

  I struggled and screamed but a cart was clattering down the street and the sound was lost.

  “Not to worry. Raven will take good care of ye.” The younger one, Melir, grabbed hold of the rope while scary eyes walked behind me. At the corner he turned right, dragging me onto the main street. When I tripped, the rope went tight, choking me.

  “Watch out, you idiot! You don’t want her to die before we get our money.” Scary Eyes stayed behind me, slapping me on the rump as he muttered things he’d like to do to me. Our entourage drew stares from passersby, some with a distinct look of envy on their swarthy faces. These men were parading me like a prize for everyone to see.

  “Hey, Melir,” a man said, stopping by us. “Looks like you and Foley hit the jackpot.”

  Melir laughed. “It’s our lucky day.”

  By now I was shaking, my mouth dry, my only hope that I hadn’t been mistaken about Brandubh.

  They dragged me toward the end of the main street where a long wooden building stood close to the docks. Inside were stacked barrels, pallets loaded up with burlap sacks and wooden boxes that looked as though they might contain bottles. Men bustled in and out carrying various sized boxes and crates that they placed on the floor.

  “Found something for the auction, eh?” one of the men said. “Put her with the others.”

  Melir removed the rope from my neck prodding me toward a door in the back. “Down there,” he ordered, opening the door and pushing me inside. The door slammed behind me and I heard the lock click
. Dim light from a window on the other side showed a stairway leading down. I heard murmuring in the distance as I descended the stairs. At the bottom it was darker, the window too high to cast light. Shapes were huddled against the walls, women I assumed by the sounds of the voices.

  “Ah, look,” one said, glancing up as I approached. “It’s a temple priestess. She puts us all to shame.” A few of the women laughed but most simply stared at me, defeat on their mud-streaked faces.

  “I’m Gertrude,” I offered, lowering myself to the floor.

  “Isabelle,” the speaker said, looking me over. Her almond-shaped eyes turned up at the corners, coarse honey-colored hair hanging in tangles around her narrow face. “You’re older than the ones I’ve seen at auction.”

  “I was only there temporarily. I’m not really…”

  “A virgin? Well, they won’t know that, will they? You’ll fetch a proper price for them.”

  “Why are all of you here?”

  “We’ve lost our husbands or happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. This is a lawless place.”

  “Is there no one to appeal to? No person who could help?”

  Isabelle shook her head. “Once in a while someone kind comes to our aid but mostly women need to stay out of sight.”

  “Why do you live in such a horrible place?”

  “We didn’t choose it. We were born here or brought by our men. Few women have money of their own.”

  “How long have you been in here?” I looked around the bare room, the lack of blankets or place to sleep. A bucket sat in one corner, the stench making me realize what it was used for.

  “Just long enough to be fattened up for auction. It happens tomorrow.”

  “Fattened up?” I stared at her thin face, the tattered dress that hung from her narrow shoulders.

  “The food I get here is more than I’ve had in a long while.” She smiled bitterly. “I only hope that the man who chooses me is not unkind.”

  “Good luck,” a small voice said from behind me.

  I turned to where the girl sat, her knees pulled up to her chest. Two braids framed her heart-shaped face, her eyes huge. She couldn’t be more than thirteen years old. “Where are your parents?” I asked her.

  “Parents? I’ve been on my own for years. It is the way of things here. But I was stupid and got caught.”

  The other women seemed to be waking up, moving closer to be part of the conversation. “Emma, you are not stupid,” one of them said, putting an arm around the young girl’s shoulder. “Why, look at me…I’m much older than you are and here I am.”

  “How do any women survive here?” I asked, looking from one to the other.

  “We work in the bars or in stores, help out on the docks if we’re strong enough, but there are only so many jobs to go around. A few rich folk live away from town and they sometimes hire women to help, but mostly it’s stealin’ and taking money for our services that keeps us alive.”

  “Who comes to the auctions?”

  “Men and women, usually rich or passing through—sometimes sailors who have extra money and want a body to warm their beds. This is a busy port. A friend of mine who was chosen by a wealthy merchant is used as bait to entangle possible clients. He dresses her up in finery and sends her out to gather information. She told me she enjoys her new life immensely. But then she’s a smart one and likes the intrigue.”

  “I wish I wasn’t here,” one of them piped up. Her young face was puffy and red from crying. “I’m not smart or pretty. I’m afraid I’ll be picked by one of those bad men—you know, the ones with all the tattoos who smell bad.”

  “They all smell bad,” Isabelle offered, making everyone laugh.

  “What about the man who runs this place—do any of you know him?”

  “Raven. He is a right evil bastard,” Isabelle said, looking down at her lap. “And his mother is worse.”

  A shudder passed through me. “He’s the father of my child who was kidnapped.”

  There was stunned silence and then Isabelle spoke, her eyes fastened on mine. “He has a boy with him. Could this be the one?”

  “I hope so.”

  “So you are important property,” Emma said. “You belong to Raven.”

  “I don’t belong to anyone. I’m a free soul.”

  “Not here you ain’t,” Isabelle said with a shake of her head. “It’s lucky you have an in with Raven, otherwise who knows what your fate might be. I’ve seen what happens to the temple priestesses.”

  “He…Raven, that is, told me he wants us to be a family.”

  Several of the women laughed. “I highly doubt that,” one of them said. “I’ve never seen Raven do anything good for anyone.”

  “How did you come to be involved with Raven?” Isabelle asked.

  “It’s a long story. I was living in another place when I met him. I was in love with him but then he turned cruel. I didn’t know I was pregnant until I arrived here.”

  “You don’t have to lie, Gertrude. We’ve all spent time in men’s beds to pay our way, but we were smart enough to use herbs to prevent conception. Did you give birth here in Glantsgo?”

  “No. The baby was born in Fell.”

  Isabelle looked skeptical. “Where did you say you and Raven met?”

  I hesitated, wondering how these women would respond to the story of time travel. “We met in another place far from here. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again. I must have fallen off a boat,” I continued. “I washed up on the shore close to Tolam and the people took me in, at least until it became obvious I was pregnant.”

  I waited for a response and when no one said anything, I continued. “I had amnesia—I still don’t have clear memories of how I got to Tolam in the first place.”

  “Maybe you fell off Kafir’s boat--that one can move through time,” a dark-haired woman offered with a laugh.

  “You know Kafir?”

  “I’ve spent many nights in his company. I used to work at Sailor’s Haven and we…well, you know. He paid me for my services,” she added defensively. “He told me I reminded him of someone he once loved.”

  Another thing Kafir had neglected to tell me. “I traveled to Glantsgo with Kafir and a druid named Gunnar.”

  “Ah, Gunnar,” Isabelle said wistfully. “One of only a very few men I would enjoy spending time with, but unfortunately his heart belongs to another.”

  To me Gunnar lived in a mystical realm far beyond any earthly pleasures, but I didn’t say anything. “They’re helping me find my baby.”

  “Well, I hope for your sake they rescue you before tomorrow. I’ve seen the men who will be attending the auction and they are not a pretty lot.”

  There was a click above us followed by men’s voices on the stairs. Brandubh appeared, followed by Melir and Foley. “There she is,” Foley said, pointing at me. Brandubh ran fingers through his gray hair, pushing it back off his wide forehead as he gazed my way. His cassock had been replaced with a long black wool coat over a woven indigo shirt tucked into loose homespun trousers. A wide leather belt, a knife on one side, a gun on the other and heavy leather boots completed the impression of a dangerous man.

  “Ah, so you were telling the truth. She has the mark of a priestess.” He strode toward me, his brows pulled together in a scowl. “You’d best come with me,” he said reaching down for my hand. “We don’t want anything to happen to a priestess before auction.”

  He gestured to the other men to tie my hands. “Don’t want you escaping.”

  I tried to meet his eyes but he looked away, assessing the other women. “This should be a good haul.”

  Isabelle watched him and then turned my way. “Good luck with your baby.”

  I opened my mouth to respond but before I could say anything Brandubh had turned to address her. “What baby are you talking about?”

  “This woman told us that you are the father of her baby. Is this true?”

  I sucked in my breath, the brazenness of the
woman astounding me. Emotions played across Brandubh’s face as he struggled to compose himself. “If she has a child she is of little value to me, but maybe I can convince some idiot that she’s still intact, despite her advanced age.”

  Melir finished tying my hands and pushed me toward the stairs. “Should have known it wouldn’t work out for us,” he muttered to Foley.

  Once we reached the other room, Brandubh turned to me. “Auction is tomorrow. I will provide you with clothing to enhance your attributes. And for god’s sake wash yourself. You smell like a whore.” He turned to the two men who each had one of my arms. “You know where to take her.”

  “But…what about…?”

  He ignored me, turning away and heading across the room and exiting without a backward glance. Foley and Melir pointed toward another stairway leading up, prodding me from behind. “This is where he wants you for now,” Melir told me, once we reached the small, enclosed room. “It’s where he keeps the ones he tries out before auction.” Both men laughed, a nasty sound that chilled me. There were no windows, only a bed, a chair and a dresser that held a pitcher and a bowl, the inimitable bucket in one corner. A lit candle was the only source of light.

  Melir and Foley closed the door and I heard the click of the lock, their voices growing fainter as they descended the stairs. Brandubh’s behavior toward me was bewildering to say the least. If I had been mistaken about him, which at this point seemed likely, I was in deep trouble.

  I was asleep when the door opened, waking to see Brandubh standing over me. “You should have listened to me.” He raked his hair back, a frown of annoyance on his face.

  The candle on the dresser was nearly burned down but I could still see the intense expression in those gray-green eyes. “If you’re talking about Amalthea, I wasn’t sure I could trust you. If you remember we have some disturbing history between us.”

  “And what do you think now?” His eyes bored into mine.

  “I don’t know what to think and honestly I don’t care—I only want my baby.”