Finding Freedom

Finding Freedom - Part 2 Chapter 4

            “Well that’s… unexpected,”

            Why would a gypsy want to live here? I thought they were nomad people. I said so.

            “No idea.”

            Sighing at his unhelpful response, I straightened my dress and hair before making my way to the house. They were all seated in the main room of the house, but Luke and the man stood up when I came in. Luke immediately spoke up.

            “There she is! Heather,” he started, steering me so I would face the man. “This is Samyel Heron. He is the head of a gypsy family, and they want to settle here. With your permission, of course.”

            I quickly studied the man. His age corresponded to that of a family leader, which was about Luke’s age. He had the distinctive gypsy tone of skin, darker than tanned peasants at the end of summer. His eyes were dark brown, and so was his hair that looked like someone had tried to cut it to fit the current style.

            “We are only gypsy by lineage, my dear sir. We much prefer to be called civilized.” Samyel corrected.

            He was undeniably telling the truth, or trying hard to make it so. I noticed his clothes had been uncovered from under the traveler’s cloak. He was not wearing the sort of attire I had been expecting; instead he had a tunic with leggings and a pair of rider boots. He was dressed as well as a normal traveler. His manners as far as I had seen were more gentleman-like than those of most other men I had seen. In fact, the only thing that could tag him as being a gypsy was the color of his skin. He bowed.

            “Lady Heather, it is a pleasure to meet you,” he said.

            “The pleasure is all mine, Samyel. Welcome to the neighbourhood.”

            Immediately I wondered if I was not doing some big mistake. I know now that I was simply acting as I had been taught to. Any other woman with a lesser rank would have blushed and been at loss of words, which explains the look Samyel gave me. But it disappeared right after, as if he had dismissed the thought.

            “May I call my family over?” he asked.

            “Why yes, of course!” exclaimed Luke. “Let me guide you outside.”

            Luke and Samyel headed towards the entrance of the house, and I prepared to follow them, but Martha stopped me.

            “Are you sure of what you’re doing?” She asked softly.

            “No.”

            She nodded silently before letting me go outside, where Samyel was letting out a high-pitched whistle. A covered wagon came in view on the road, pulled by two cows. The head of the family walked over to greet them, and led his family one by one out of the wagon. First he helped an imposing woman whose pearly white hair contrasted with her dark skin. She was introduced as ‘Mama’. Then came Aisha, his wife, and his two twin boys Noah and Jeremi. His daughter Kyra came around from the other side of the cart. They were all wearing middle-class clothes instead of gypsy attire, which reassured me a little bit.

            Martha came out of the house and Luke introduced all of us. The two groups seemed hesitant to mingle. I took my time observing Kyra. We seemed to be of the same age. She had her parents’ dark skin and eyes, and wore her brown hair in a bun on the back of her head. Her eyes were mischievous but her smile was nice. I smiled back. With a sigh, Martha took control of the situation.

            “Mama, Aisha, won’t you come inside for refreshments? I’m sure the road must have been tiresome. No no, do not worry, I’m sure Heather and Kyra will take care of the kids. Dean will find place for the horse and cows in the stable. The men need to stay outside to decide on a place to build some permanent residence for your family.”

            She continued to babble on as her voice faded inside the house. The rest of us outside listened to her orders. Dean disappeared with the animals, and Kyra and I went to sit on a fallen tree trunk to watch the kids play. We started talking, and she was surprised when she discovered I had no experience with children.

            “Usually girls our age know all about taking care of a family. Some are even settled.”

            I replied that my own education had been slightly more academical. I did not mention that it was mostly because I was supposed to have servants that took care of my every need. Dean appeared near where we were, obviously heading for us, but Luke called him over to help. I saw his shoulders slump and could not force back a chuckle. Kyra tilted her head.

            “You like him?” She asked, her voice full of hidden meanings. I quickly realized her misunderstanding, and set it right.

            “No, of course not!” I said vehemently, before adding “I mean, not the way you’re thinking. To me… he’s more like a brother.”

            Kyra placed an elbow on her knees, and placed her head on her hand while looking at me inquisitively. I could tell by her look that she was the type of girl that liked to gossip. “But he’s not your brother.”

            “No,” I said, a bit surprised by her insight. “Not by blood, anyways.”

            I stopped there, hoping she would understand that I didn’t want to continue with that topic.

“He’s not that bad looking. He’d make a good catch,” she said dreamily.

For an instant I felt relieved, but Kyra’s twin brothers came over and grabbed me by the arm. “Princess! Princess!” they chanted, as the blood drew from my face. How could two four-year-olds discover my secret so fast?

“You can be the princess!” the boys said in unison. Only then did it hit me what exactly they meant by calling me princess. I grinned broadly, relieved.

“I’m no princess,” I said, and saw their faces drop. I could see that they really wanted to play, but I didn’t think I could pretend to be someone pretending to be a princess. I did have another idea, however. “How about you let Kyra be the princess…” I paused to pick up a fallen tree branch from the ground and pointed it at the boys. “And I’ll be the evil king who captured her!” I finished with a twirl of the stick, imitating a sword. Instantly the two boys pulled out sticks of their own and yelled war cries.

Ensued a dramatic swordfight imitation, with many cries of joy or pain as they managed to bypass my defense and poke me with the sticks. I dropped my ‘sword’ and fell to my knees, then lay on the ground motionless apart from the childlike laugh that wouldn’t stop coming out of my mouth and shook my shoulders.

I hadn’t laughed like that in a long while.

If only Lil’Billy could see me now.