The Gypsy King by Morgan Rush Page A
Authors: Morgan Rush
Tags: Erótica, Literature & Fiction
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time of day or night and, on the rare occasion, did see a watch pulled from trousers or the secret pockets sewn in the gypsy women’s skirts, they were broken and valued only for their sheen and luster. Days and nights began to evanesce and her new way of life revolved around sunrises, meals, sunsets and campfires.
Her new friends expected her to help with the endless chores involved in running the camp—
mindless tasks such as long hours of scrubbing clothes in the river, either cleaning up or setting places for meals, building fires and watching the children. She learned to scour the woods for firewood, build fires from twigs, grass and scraps of paper, how and where to pick fistfuls of clover, 109
The Gypsy King
nettles and wild leeks until her hands and arms burned and itched relentlessly.
Much to her surprise, her spirit was awakened and she felt alone, yes, but not lonely. Being around understanding people was helping her heal both psychologically and emotionally. She was even allowed to watch over many gypsy
children and welcomed the opportunity to have the young, barefooted and restless urchins laugh at her while running around in fields or
swimming in the river, completely free of any care in the world. Even the older children played most of the day, fishing in the river and either bathing horses or riding the animals bareback. This carefree attitude toward life seemed passed down to the children through their parents and
grandparents, too.
Her gypsy family lived life with a fervor and veracity she had never seen in her own short time on earth. She found herself coming to terms with her past and her mistakes. Soon sunshine was shining again in her face and lighting some of the blackness that had settled in her heart and soul.
Veronique didn’t know exactly how long she
had been with the gypsies and many of her past troubles seemed now like a layer of frost that fades away as the sun heats the day. Her heart still ached for Ahndray, beautiful Ahndray, who
would have loved to be sharing her new
adventure with these lively, wandering gypsies.
110
Morgan Rush
Her heart grew cold and turned to stone when she thought about Leone and the pain he caused the people in his life. Part of her was always looking out for Leone to come and find her here, hiding with a kumpania of traveling gypsies. Still another part of her was glad he was getting the punishment he deserved. She pictured his father finding him with Ahndray, unable to justify his sins and imagined he would be either in prison or on the run for the rest of his life.
Shards of anger, like broken glass, cut at her heart and she tried to forgive herself and her own desperate decision. Seeing the life around her everyday helped soothe her mind and soul.
Veronique felt vitalized and almost reborn with every sunrise.
She met many of her new family and was
accepted and greeted with friendship by both men and woman. This friendliness surprised her
repeatedly. The only person she had not had any real contact with was the leader of the kumpania , the Gypsy King. She caught glimpses of him
leading groups of his brothers and sisters and sons from one wagon to the next or riding off and returning the following day. He wasn’t aloof or detached and she realized after awhile that he was simply very busy and took his role as leader of the kumpania very seriously.
She saw him only a few times at a distance and only in the evenings. He was always laughing 111
The Gypsy King
with his guests. Everyone she met spoke of him as a compassionate, fair and strong leader. Veronique wanted very much to meet the Gypsy King and, in her heart, she knew when the time was right he would make it happen, allow it to happen.
She was sitting at a campfire tying bundles of twigs into the brooms that sweep around the wagons and smooth out the dirt around the
heavily traveled areas of the encampment. A man casually rode up, tied off his horse and sat beside her. He
Her new friends expected her to help with the endless chores involved in running the camp—
mindless tasks such as long hours of scrubbing clothes in the river, either cleaning up or setting places for meals, building fires and watching the children. She learned to scour the woods for firewood, build fires from twigs, grass and scraps of paper, how and where to pick fistfuls of clover, 109
The Gypsy King
nettles and wild leeks until her hands and arms burned and itched relentlessly.
Much to her surprise, her spirit was awakened and she felt alone, yes, but not lonely. Being around understanding people was helping her heal both psychologically and emotionally. She was even allowed to watch over many gypsy
children and welcomed the opportunity to have the young, barefooted and restless urchins laugh at her while running around in fields or
swimming in the river, completely free of any care in the world. Even the older children played most of the day, fishing in the river and either bathing horses or riding the animals bareback. This carefree attitude toward life seemed passed down to the children through their parents and
grandparents, too.
Her gypsy family lived life with a fervor and veracity she had never seen in her own short time on earth. She found herself coming to terms with her past and her mistakes. Soon sunshine was shining again in her face and lighting some of the blackness that had settled in her heart and soul.
Veronique didn’t know exactly how long she
had been with the gypsies and many of her past troubles seemed now like a layer of frost that fades away as the sun heats the day. Her heart still ached for Ahndray, beautiful Ahndray, who
would have loved to be sharing her new
adventure with these lively, wandering gypsies.
110
Morgan Rush
Her heart grew cold and turned to stone when she thought about Leone and the pain he caused the people in his life. Part of her was always looking out for Leone to come and find her here, hiding with a kumpania of traveling gypsies. Still another part of her was glad he was getting the punishment he deserved. She pictured his father finding him with Ahndray, unable to justify his sins and imagined he would be either in prison or on the run for the rest of his life.
Shards of anger, like broken glass, cut at her heart and she tried to forgive herself and her own desperate decision. Seeing the life around her everyday helped soothe her mind and soul.
Veronique felt vitalized and almost reborn with every sunrise.
She met many of her new family and was
accepted and greeted with friendship by both men and woman. This friendliness surprised her
repeatedly. The only person she had not had any real contact with was the leader of the kumpania , the Gypsy King. She caught glimpses of him
leading groups of his brothers and sisters and sons from one wagon to the next or riding off and returning the following day. He wasn’t aloof or detached and she realized after awhile that he was simply very busy and took his role as leader of the kumpania very seriously.
She saw him only a few times at a distance and only in the evenings. He was always laughing 111
The Gypsy King
with his guests. Everyone she met spoke of him as a compassionate, fair and strong leader. Veronique wanted very much to meet the Gypsy King and, in her heart, she knew when the time was right he would make it happen, allow it to happen.
She was sitting at a campfire tying bundles of twigs into the brooms that sweep around the wagons and smooth out the dirt around the
heavily traveled areas of the encampment. A man casually rode up, tied off his horse and sat beside her. He
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