[PUBLIC - SCRAMBLED FREQUENCY]
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Chapter 2: The Gypsy Camp!
The gait of the horse was beginning to set Belinda’s teeth on edge. Or perhaps it was the strong arm around her waist that was doing that. They had been riding for hours, the moon high overhead now sinking into the west, the sun not far behind it in the east. The city was far behind them, her kidnapping now almost certainly discovered, and her father’s men coming after the two of them without a moment of delay.
At least, that is what she hoped was going to happen.
Truthfully, she had no idea whether her father’s soldiers had made it out of the vault chambers yet, or if they had roused the house. If nothing else, the maidservants would find her bed empty at her normal waking time and would alert her father to the circumstances. She simply had to keep her spirits up until she was certain that they were coming for her.
Marluxia, on the other hand, was in decent spirits. If nothing else, he knew his place in the Dark Hearts was assured. Nobody had ever returned from an initiation mission with a treasure as valuable as the daughter of one of the city’s most powerful men. If they were smart about it, they could ransom her once, kill the men that dropped off the gold, and ransom her a second time before returning her to her father.
For some reason though, he did not like the idea of returning her at all. Not with the scent of orchids in her hair that had been filling his nose for hours, or the softness of her form beneath his arm. All the women of the Dark Hearts were hard, muscled thieves and killers that were no longer affected by the harshness of reality.
The girl in his arms, on the other hand, was soft and warm, and obviously frightened by what was going on. She was probably some spoiled little princess on the inside, but he had no objections to gazing on her beautiful outsides for a while. At least while she was his prisoner. The thought of any of the other male members of the Dark Hearts coming near her suddenly made a strange anger well up inside him, which he quickly pushed aside as jealousy over people attempting to steal his prize.
The sky overhead began to grow lighter, and the sun began to peek over the horizon. In the deep trees of the forest, there was very little light except for the soft glow of the night blooming fire flowers that lit the path to the camp, for those knowledgeable enough to understand their placement.
“We’re almost there.” He said gruffly, because being kind to her would certainly make her weep. “You will rest when we arrive. I promise you this, you will remain safe as long as you do not attempt to escape us.”
Belinda turned her head slightly, having nothing but defiant scorn suddenly for the handsome man sitting behind her. “I will rest when my father’s men come for me.”
Marluxia barked out a laugh. “With acres of forest to explore? They wouldn’t dare face the monsters deep within the trees. You are a prisoner of the Dark Hearts until we say otherwise, my lady.”
She sat straighter in the saddle, to show her insolence, having no other way to do so. He was right. Should she try to escape the camp, she would be no match for the monsters that dwelt deep in the forest, and her father’s men would have a hard time getting past them as well. Belinda refused to show her fear though. That would only make him bolder, and for now she had nothing left but her self respect.
The rose-haired thief smiled a bit as she tried to put on a brave face. Perhaps there was a little more to this haughty woman than he had imagined. But it would not serve her well in the den of thieves he was taking her to. The trees opened suddenly, and revealed within a gypsy camp of fire pits and caravan wagons set up so that they were protected from the outside of the clearing, but certainly not crowding the area.
Heads turned as the horse entered, and men and women alike stood and stared. Marluxia supposed it was because he had returned, and not alone. A smaller part of him suspected it was because the lady he returned with was the loveliest woman most of them had ever laid eyes upon. One of the children of the camp appeared, a boy who was in charge of caring for the horses of the group, and Marluxia dismounted, pulling Belinda down with him carefully.
After making sure she would stand on her own, he took his left saddle bag from the horse and let the boy take the horse away. He then took a hold of her arm, and guided her through the camp to the largest caravan wagon at the very end of the clearing. It was the home of Ducard, the leader of the Dark Hearts, until someone challenged him and won. Marluxia sat the girl down on the steps to the wagon, and looked at her sternly.
“Remain here.”
She nodded slowly, and he was certain that he would be obeyed. If not, it would look bad on his part. Ignoring the fact that she was still being stared at, he knocked on the door to the caravan wagon, and stepped inside, not finding it locked. Ducard was sitting behind a wide desk, sharpening the blade of one of his many daggers. Marluxia went down on one knee.
“Lord Thief, I have returned.”
“Obviously.” Ducard replied, the man not much older than the thief before him. “The question is, have you been successful?”
Marluxia rose and reached into his saddle bag and produced the massive ruby, setting it at the end of the desk carefully. Ducard smiled in appreciation.
“Very good. I suppose you have the tale to tell of how you managed to make it into Whiteglass’s vault without being seen?”
Marluxia nodded. “I have brought more than that. I have brought what he treasures more than that bauble. His only child is currently sitting on your stoop, my prisoner, Lord Thief.”
Shock crossed the other man’s handsomely tanned features, and he stared for a moment. “You captured the man’s only child?”
“Yes. I watched the house for several days, there is no doubt that she is Belinda Whiteglass.”
A grin spread across Ducard’s face, and he stood up, coming from around the table. “You realize what this means, do you not?”
“A ransom, if not two. She is more valuable than the ruby even if we have to leave men to guard her. We’ve…”
Marluxia stopped as he heard a scream, and immediately spun around, running out of the wide wagon. Leaping down the steps, he found a group of men standing around Belinda, who was pressed back against one of the other wagons. One of the men was fingering her dress, while another touched her long hair, all of them leering at her. Rage welled up inside him, and he stalked over to the group, drawing his sword along the way. Shoving his way through, he immediately cut off the hand of the man who had been touching her hair, the man screaming in agony. Marluxia pulled Belinda behind him, facing off against the remaining half a dozen men.
“The next man to touch her will lose more than a hand.” He warned. “I retrieved her; she belongs to me until I say otherwise.”
“Marluxia is right.”
Ducard was standing at the doorway of his wagon, looking down not at the men, but at Belinda. “No man will touch that woman unless Marluxia gives him permission. Seeing as he has brought back more than his initiation has required, and my third in command is now missing an ill-used hand, Marluxia Endleofan is now my third in command.”
Ducard’s word was law, and Marluxia, while pleased with the sudden promotion, was now wary of what the man intended for Belinda. He turned and grabbed her arm, her hands still bound, and dragged her towards the wagon that was meant for the third in command, throwing open the door. He took her inside and set her down on the wide bed at the back of the wagon, using his still drawn sword to free her hands.
“Remain in here.” He ordered, unable to stare at her stricken, afraid face any longer.
Belinda watched as Marluxia turned and left her alone in the caravan wagon, her wrists aching from the now missing sash that was in tatters on the ground. When he had left her alone, she had sat right where he had left her, if only for a moment until the men that had been staring at her came over to take a good look. She had defiantly stared away until one of them had jerked her to her feet to try and feel her form beneath her gown, and that was when she screamed and ran.
They had pinned her against the side one of the wagons, and proceeded to make lewd suggestions to her, letting her know exactly what they thought an aristocratic woman was good for. She had been terrified until Marluxia appeared, sword in hand, to defend her. Then a handsome man had come from the other wagon and declared that she was the property of the one who stole her, and it had almost been too much.
Now that she was alone, exhausted and afraid, she put her face in her hands and wept. She did not care if anyone could hear her, she let the sobs shake her shoulders until she tired herself out completely. The bed of the wagon was surprisingly comfortable. Made up with simple blankets and pillows, it was clean and cozy, much like the rest of Marluxia’s new wagon. Belinda let weariness take over as she curled up on the bed, drifting off to sleep to forget the horrible night and morning.
**********************************
Marluxia had been relieved to go back to the wagon an hour later and find Belinda had fallen asleep. He had heard her begin to weep, and it had been too much for him to bear. For some reason, he had no desire to hear the woman give in to the despair that he knew must have been wracking her for sobs. So he had gone off to make sure he had not killed the former third in command, and arrange other things.
When he returned, he found her sound asleep, her face marked with tear stains, but that of a weeping angel in his new bed. Feeling something akin perhaps to regret, he spread a blanket over her. If she slept most of the day he would be able to get things going on the ransom. Demands could be made, and meeting places set up if he did not have to worry about her. Marluxia knew he had to get rid of her as soon as he could.
Just before sunset he went back to the wagon, and found her still asleep. Hating to have to wake her, knowing he could not stare at her beautiful face when she was awake, he leaned over the bed and shook her shoulder gently. She woke, smiling for just a moment before she seemed to remember where she was. He hardened his features against both the smile and the disappointment.
“Wake and have something to eat before you return to your rest.” He said.
She sat up slowly, and he never had seen a woman more beautiful as she ran her long fingers through her tousseled hair. He wanted to touch those curls, to feel the silky locks slide between his fingers. But she was a prisoner, and he was still wearing his gloves. He held out a hand to her and waited for her to take it.
Belinda had been happy to escape her fate by simply dreaming it away. She had no desire to wake, but one of her maids must have been shaking her shoulder gently to wake her in the morning. Sighing, she opened her eyes and thought about the rose-haired man and his beautiful eyes, smiling until she realized he was standing in front of her in the dark wagon, and that nothing had changed. She sat up slowly, and nodded numbly as he told her it was time to eat. She would have never gone if her stomach had not protested the lack of food in it.
She took his gloved hand, and stood up slowly, her legs a bit shaky from the ordeal thus far. He allowed her to lean against him, one strong arm around her shoulders, and for some reason it was a comfort, even if it were his side and not that of her father or someone else she trusted. He helped her to the door and opened it for her, going down the steps first and holding out a hand to her.
“Your name is Marluxia Endleofan, correct?” She asked softly.
He nodded a bit, watching as she took his hand and came down the steps. The last name sounded so familiar for some reason, but she could not place it now. He guided her over to one of the large bonfires that had been lit in order to chase away the dark of the evening, and she warmed her hands as others came to the fire to join her, glancing at her but mostly concentrating on their food.
Suddenly, a pair of women were at her sides, each armed as the men were, each looking just as hard as they did. But one patted her shoulder awkwardly before handing her a bowl of soup and some bread, and then began to eat her own. Belinda suddenly realized that while they knew she was a prisoner, they were there to protect her when Marluxia was not. It made her feel a little better, as did the soup that was warm in her mouth and surprisingly good.
Simple though it was, the meal was good, and her new protectors never left her side at the same time. Perhaps one, but never both. Marluxia watched from afar as the two women he had known as nothing but hardened members of the Dark Hearts appointed themselves as Belinda’s guardians. That was good. He would not have to keep such a close eye on her then. Not that Ducard’s word was not good for her safety, but sometimes, even amongst thieves, there was very little honor.
The firelight played off her hair, marking the tendrils of chestnut colored hair with reds and golds, and he sighed, wondering why none of the other woman whom he had ever been around seemed to stand out the way she did. Marluxia accepted his own meal and ate slowly on the other side of the fire, watching her from afar as dinner finished and the music of the evening began.
He assumed she would have returned to the wagon to rest, but as the flutes and accordions began, she sat, spellbound by the music it seemed. Marluxia watched with interest as she listened to the lively tunes, even clapping her hands when others did, her face lighting up with the entertainment. That she could find some sort of joy in the midst of being a prisoner, despite being a very well kept one, was a surprise to him, and one more reason the lady who he had stolen seemed to be stealing his heart as well.
The songs continued, a few more melancholy than he would have liked, but all of which Belinda enjoyed. She had been surprised when her two female guardians had indicated that she should stay and enjoy the music that was going to be played. She had assumed at first that she was going to be kept in the wagon at all times, and then only let out for meals. But now it seemed she was allowed to even partake in the festivities, if only a happy listener. The music was not like anything she had ever been used to, but they were sweet and good in their own way.
“May I have this dance?”
Belinda gasped to look up and see the man they had called Ducard standing over her, holding out a hand. He was the leader of the Dark Hearts, and she was suddenly shy as she noticed everyone watching her. Well she was not one to be bashful when it came to being the center of a gentleman’s attention. Too much time at parties had taught her to use her personal pride to get past shyness. She smiled, and took his hand gently, and was immediately whipped into a fast, joyful dance around the fire. A few of the other men were brave enough to ask the women of the group to dance as well, and soon there was merriment to be had around the large fire in the center of the gypsy camp.
The song ended, but another began and she was spun about again, until she saw a hand on Ducard’s shoulder, and was surprised to see that Marluxia had stopped him. Belinda then attributed her blushing cheeks to the warmth of the dancing and the fire.
Marluxia frowned as he saw Ducard ask Belinda Whiteglass, his prisoner and hostage, to dance. The girl would lose all fear of them if she was invited to partake of the festivities, and something even more enraged bubbled up in Marluxia’s chest to think of Ducard attempting to woo the woman. What was worse was that she was enjoying it! She was laughing as she sailed around in Ducard’s arms, and when the music ended, then began again, she was still laughing, a sound that utterly bewitched Marluxia. He frowned and walked over to Ducard, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“May I cut in?”
The leader of the Dark Hearts bowed to Belinda slowly, then gave Marluxia a smile and left them to dance together. Without a word, Marluxia took her hand and put the other on her slender waist, and showed her that he was company manners to rival even the leader. It was suddenly clear to him that if he did not do something, the entire camp was going to fall in love with the beautiful, amazing creature floating in his arms. Strains of music flittered past them into the night, suddenly disrupted as the call went up all around them.
“Monster! Monster! Monster!”
Belinda gasped, the perfect moment with Marluxia ruined as the screams in the camp began, and something came crashing through the trees, and shoved one of the wagons over. Marluxia grabbed her hand instead of her arm this time and ran with her to another wagon, putting her against one of the wheels.
“Stay put!” He ordered, before drawing his blade.
The creatures that had attacked the camp were massive, larger than full sized horses, and yet were hunched over. Vaguely elephantine in facial features, but standing upright like a person, they were dark gray, and she recognized them as rock trolls. The thieves were not practiced soldiers, but they were mighty warriors, and attacked the half a dozen rock trolls with a fury which she had never seen before. Of all the men and women fighting, her eyes were constantly drawn back to Marluxia, who was doing a delicate dance of death with one of the creatures on his own.
Belinda was so wrapped up in watching him, wondering if any second the troll would land a blow with his mighty club that she did not hear one of the massive creatures thudding up behind the wagon she was kneeling next to. The wagon was lifted out of the way and thrown to the side, and she was knocked to the ground, her head spinning as the rock troll hovered over her. All she could do was scream wordlessly for help.