face had assumed a mask of indifference. He faced the leaders of the gypsy band without flinching.
Ardaix turned cold, blue eyes on John. "Well, gorgio, what have you seen this night? Why did you leave camp?"
"You ask that of no one else. I did my work. My free time is my own."
"The attack of one of our own demands an answer."
John sneered. "God knows I will never be accepted as one of you, but neither did I attack one I labor beside."
Ardaix's slight wince made John wonder if he regretted his harsh accusation. "Marga says you left the camp alone and rode toward the next town. Why?"
He noted Marga's satisfied expression as she stepped closer to the fire. If she could not have him, she would make his life miserable.
"I was escaping Marga. Her unwanted attentions embarrass me."
She jumped forward in rage, but Ardaix held her tightly by the arm. She looked over her shoulder at him. "Hoquepenes! Lies…I tell you! I want him not. It is for Dago I wait, and see what trusting that gorgio has brought Dago."
John stood his ground against the growing crowd of disapproval, but he didn't respond to her accusations.
Ardaix pushed Marga behind him. "Who is lying now, Marga? Have I not seen you flaunt yourself before John? If Dago is so important to you, go tend him while we settle this."
Marga strutted away from the firelight with a vicious look at John. If looks could kill…
He kept his attention on Ardaix, the only one who mattered. The others would follow his lead, regardless.
Csinka ambled forward. Usually, the old soothsayer gave him a hard time. Now that her precious son lay unconscious, he expected no less, but she ignored him and spoke only to Ardaix.
"Leave him. He is not the one."
The other gypsies in the camp had faith in Csinka's powers, but John remained skeptical. He had never seen her predict anything that could not easily be explained away, and she gave practically the same fortune to every outsider that crossed her palm with coin.
Ardaix faltered under her regard. "You would not question him? Why?"
Csinka shrugged and walked toward her wagon. She called back over her shoulder, "This time he is innocent."
John glared after her retreating form. He had always been innocent. He couldn't help it if he was a gorgio. He forced the resentment to leave his face as Ardaix turned his attention back.
"Stay away from the gentiles tomorrow…your grace. Do not give the family another reason to distrust you."
John nodded his acquiescence then turned on his heel. He had to speak with Dago. Perhaps he could find out who had done this. It was beginning to look as if Robert and his government friends were right. The gypsy camp had become a dangerous place.
If Dago and his mother were to discuss what had really occurred, they wouldn't do it in front of Marga. John crept behind the fortune teller's wagon and hid in the trees until Marga left to return to her tent.
His eyes attuned to the blackness of the night as he searched the camp one last time before leaving his hiding place. He dropped under the small window that afforded the wagon its only fresh air and found himself instantly rewarded.
"What have you done, Dago? You will tell me this time."
"Why do you berate me?"
"You are always up to something. Now tell me. What have you done to bring the wrath of the gorgios on you?"
"Nothing, I tell you. Nothing."
Dago's voice sounded desperate, even to John.
Csinka clucked her tongue. "If only your brother…I should have at least one son to care for me in my old age, one who would not care more for himself than he does for me."
"Hah! It is because of your other son that I suffer. Love him all you want, old woman. I've risked my neck to keep him for you…not that you'll ever thank me…Bah! Why do I bother?"
There was a loud noise as Dago slammed his way out of the wagon. John dove for the cover of trees and watched Dago stroll to the nearly dead fire at the center of camp.
Evidently, there was something going on
Ardaix turned cold, blue eyes on John. "Well, gorgio, what have you seen this night? Why did you leave camp?"
"You ask that of no one else. I did my work. My free time is my own."
"The attack of one of our own demands an answer."
John sneered. "God knows I will never be accepted as one of you, but neither did I attack one I labor beside."
Ardaix's slight wince made John wonder if he regretted his harsh accusation. "Marga says you left the camp alone and rode toward the next town. Why?"
He noted Marga's satisfied expression as she stepped closer to the fire. If she could not have him, she would make his life miserable.
"I was escaping Marga. Her unwanted attentions embarrass me."
She jumped forward in rage, but Ardaix held her tightly by the arm. She looked over her shoulder at him. "Hoquepenes! Lies…I tell you! I want him not. It is for Dago I wait, and see what trusting that gorgio has brought Dago."
John stood his ground against the growing crowd of disapproval, but he didn't respond to her accusations.
Ardaix pushed Marga behind him. "Who is lying now, Marga? Have I not seen you flaunt yourself before John? If Dago is so important to you, go tend him while we settle this."
Marga strutted away from the firelight with a vicious look at John. If looks could kill…
He kept his attention on Ardaix, the only one who mattered. The others would follow his lead, regardless.
Csinka ambled forward. Usually, the old soothsayer gave him a hard time. Now that her precious son lay unconscious, he expected no less, but she ignored him and spoke only to Ardaix.
"Leave him. He is not the one."
The other gypsies in the camp had faith in Csinka's powers, but John remained skeptical. He had never seen her predict anything that could not easily be explained away, and she gave practically the same fortune to every outsider that crossed her palm with coin.
Ardaix faltered under her regard. "You would not question him? Why?"
Csinka shrugged and walked toward her wagon. She called back over her shoulder, "This time he is innocent."
John glared after her retreating form. He had always been innocent. He couldn't help it if he was a gorgio. He forced the resentment to leave his face as Ardaix turned his attention back.
"Stay away from the gentiles tomorrow…your grace. Do not give the family another reason to distrust you."
John nodded his acquiescence then turned on his heel. He had to speak with Dago. Perhaps he could find out who had done this. It was beginning to look as if Robert and his government friends were right. The gypsy camp had become a dangerous place.
If Dago and his mother were to discuss what had really occurred, they wouldn't do it in front of Marga. John crept behind the fortune teller's wagon and hid in the trees until Marga left to return to her tent.
His eyes attuned to the blackness of the night as he searched the camp one last time before leaving his hiding place. He dropped under the small window that afforded the wagon its only fresh air and found himself instantly rewarded.
"What have you done, Dago? You will tell me this time."
"Why do you berate me?"
"You are always up to something. Now tell me. What have you done to bring the wrath of the gorgios on you?"
"Nothing, I tell you. Nothing."
Dago's voice sounded desperate, even to John.
Csinka clucked her tongue. "If only your brother…I should have at least one son to care for me in my old age, one who would not care more for himself than he does for me."
"Hah! It is because of your other son that I suffer. Love him all you want, old woman. I've risked my neck to keep him for you…not that you'll ever thank me…Bah! Why do I bother?"
There was a loud noise as Dago slammed his way out of the wagon. John dove for the cover of trees and watched Dago stroll to the nearly dead fire at the center of camp.
Evidently, there was something going on
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