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  “Where is Lorenc?” she demanded.

  It was Ilir who answered in an almost servile tone.

  “He will surely appear soon, Lulé.”

  Lulé threw back her head, exposing a long olive-hued neck.

  “Until he is here, no choosing.”

  The men seemed to accept this and Ariana decided that Lulé must be a woman of some importance.

  The gypsy women threw their eyes over the two captives, but did not acknowledge them.

  Ilir led the newcomers away to caves on the further side of the plateau where they could freshen up. Lorenc would come and the men could then choose their brides.

  ‘And would he then choose his?’ thought Ariana miserably.

  She and Bonnie trailed back to their own quarters as there was little to do now but prepare for the Wedding Ceremony itself that was to take place late that afternoon.

  Ariana was determined to look her best and it was for that reason that she had chosen a scarlet gypsy dress.

  Even so, she was not quite prepared for the vision that met her as she looked in the mirror. She flushed to see how the cut of the gown meant that her shoulders were bare with the top of her breasts in view.

  Her waist seemed to be tiny, not much more than the span of a man’s hands. She had not dressed her hair, but left it loose, so that it fell in a golden sun-kissed mane.

  Now, feeling far too exposed, she hastily draped a richly embroidered shawl about her and, drawing on a pair of red slippers, she felt that she was ready.

  Bonnie looked comely in a green gown, her brown hair plaited round her forehead. Her bodice too was rather revealing, but she seemed little concerned at this.

  As a horn sounded over the plateau, summoning all to the Wedding, Ariana and Bonnie stepped out.

  It was clear that the men had by now chosen their brides, for all were gathered in pairs before the Priest, who was elevated on a platform constructed for this very event.

  Ariana, standing at the back, scanned the crowd for a sight of Lorenc.

  There he was, standing to one side of the platform with – with Lulé!

  Her heart gave a sudden shudder. Were they too to be married?

  They did not, however, step up to be blessed by the Priest, nor did they repeat those words that Ariana took to be the marriage vows. With twenty couples to conjoin the Priest conducted a mass ceremony, so they all exchanged rings at the same time.

  Lorenc and Lulé looked on at the scene calmly and Ariana wondered if they were to be married in a separate ceremony, as befitted the most important couple present.

  The thought so tormented her that, when Lulé did turn and whisper into Lorenc’s ear, Ariana could bear the suspense no longer and fled back to her cave.

  There she leaned against the mirror and wept.

  Bonnie appeared in the entrance.

  “What’s the matter, miss?”

  Ariana drew back hurriedly, wiping her eyes.

  “I am just overcome with – with homesickness.”

  Bonnie looked disbelieving.

  “What! For your uncle’s house? You’re a funny one, I must say. Well – they’re lookin’ for you out there. The women wants to meet you.”

  “Is the – is the ceremony over?” Ariana ventured tremulously. “Is Lorenc – married?”

  Bonnie threw her a quick appraising glance.

  “No. He’s not. Are you comin’?”

  Ariana followed Bonnie out. The company were gathered now about the tables on which steaming dishes had miraculously appeared.

  There was a great deal of talk and laughter, but all fell silent as Ariana and Bonnie appeared.

  Ariana, in her distraught state, had let the shawl slip from her shoulders. Her wet eyes glittered in the gathering shadows and the colour of her gown cast a rosier hue than ever on her trembling flesh.

  As she moved gracefully forward, some murmurs of appreciation ran through the crowd.

  Then all of a sudden came the sound of two hands clapping. Ariana looked round, bewildered, to see Lulé step forward, applauding and then she said,

  “This creature you have captured, Lorenc, is really exquisite. No wonder you have hidden her here so long.”

  And there was Lorenc, his eyes as they rested on Ariana almost ablaze. She froze in her tracks before him like a cornered doe before its hunter.

  Their gaze met and it was as if a river of flame ran between them. Ariana felt that she could accept any wound or any blow from this man’s hand.

  Yet his features expressed not the desire to hurt but the desire to possess. She could not mistake it.

  This spell was broken by the sound of mandolins.

  “Lorenc, the dancing begins!” cried Lulé and with no more ado she grasped his hand and drew him away.

  Ariana stood still as if struck. Whatever she thought she had seen in Lorenc’s eyes, Lulé had made it clear that hers was the prior claim. She moved away in a daze only to feel her arm gripped by a strong hand.

  “It’s time for us to be friends again, little prize,” came Ilir’s beery voice. “We will dance.”

  She had not the strength to protest and was whirled away in Ilir’s arms. The dance was wild and Ariana was soon dizzy both with the unfamiliar pace and the effort of trying to keep her eyes on Lorenc and Lulé.

  But Ilir did not relax his hold until the music ended, whereupon he produced a flask and held it to her lips.

  “Our dances are thirsty work,” he said.

  She drank deeply, tasting a bitter liquid, but, when she lowered the flask, he forced it to her lips again.

  “I want to see you when your soul is free,” he said in a low insinuating tone.

  Seeing Lulé flying by, tight within Lorenc’s grasp, Ariana struggled with such despair that she no longer cared what she did.

  As Ilir pressed the flask upon her, she drank again, like one who craved oblivion.

  The music started and once more they were away. She began to feel light of head and foot and threw her head back to watch the stars as she spun round, her skirt twirling about her and her shawl flying out in the breeze.

  “Drink more,” growled Ilir and Ariana did not resist a second and indeed a third draught. Now, as she moved, she felt the wildness of the terrain enter her bones.

  She cried out and thrust off her slippers. Her feet twinkled over the grass. Her soul was feverish, the soul of a gypsy, unconstrained by drawing room rules or the laws of polite society.

  “You are ready, little treasure,” she then heard Ilir murmur. “There was no bride for me today. But it’s time I had a woman.”

  Catching Ariana’s hand, he hauled her away. She followed, unresisting, her head spinning, full of stars and air and vast skies, her heart blessedly immune to feeling.

  Ilir led her into a copse of stunted trees that lined a bubbling brook.

  Ilir removed his cape and spread it on the grass.

  “Lie here, my lovely,” he urged her.

  Only now did Ariana hesitate. The music was far away and the shadows beneath the trees were dark. A faint fear possessed her as Ilir caught her about the waist.

  “I have spent too much time admiring you from afar,” he grunted. “Tonight you are mine.”

  “You are mistaken, Ilir,” came a voice from beyond the copse and Lorenc stepped into view.

  Ilir cursed under his breath, but stepped away from Ariana, who sank trembling to the ground.

  “What, Chief!” Ilir snarled. “Have you come here to claim her in my stead?”

  “I’ve come to claim nothing,” said Lorenc calmly. “I saw you lead her away and was worried. She is under my protection. If it were not for the fact that I suspect you are drunk, it is you I would kill.”

  Ilir uneasily eyed the knife in Lorenc’s hand.

  “My mistake, Chief,” he said, backing away.

  Lorenc waited until he was gone before raising up Ariana.

  “Step into the water,” he ordered. “As it will cool you and help clear
your head.”

  Ariana did as he suggested. The cold tide swirling about her ankles sent an instant shiver through her limbs and she felt as if a mist lifted from her mind.

  But with that growing clarity came the knowledge of her wanton behaviour and hot tears then began to trickle down her cheeks.

  Lorenc caught her and drew her from the brook.

  “What do these tears mean?” he asked gently.

  “I was just – so foolish,” Ariana wept and in shame buried her face against his chest.

  He held her there, a hand on the small of her back and, as her sobs subsided, she heard the beat of his heart, just as she had heard it on that first ride together when he had brought her back to the camp.

  She drew back, pressing a knuckle to her eyelids, but felt his hand brush her hand from her face. He said nothing, but his eyes in the moonlight raked over her body, while a finger traced the line of her shoulder.

  Ariana stared up at him, mesmerised by the struggle that she saw cross his features.

  Then, with a faint sigh, as though he was driven by a force too strong to resist, he brought his lips to hers.

  The last time he had kissed her it had been a brutal clash of flesh to flesh.

  Now his lips lingered, caressed, roved across her mouth and forehead, seeking, possessing and desiring to such a degree that she felt that she would expire of joy.

  “This is nice, I must say!”

  Ariana broke away from Lorenc with a gasp.

  “Bonnie!”

  Bonnie regarded her Mistress sourly and snapped,

  “Embarrassed, are you? So you should be. Caught like this in the dark, when you’ve no right to be. No right at all.”

  Lorenc regarded Bonnie sternly.

  “What do you mean, girl, stealing up on us in this way,” he demanded.

  Bonnie gave a faint smile, whilst Ariana raised a hand as if to ward off a blow that she sensed was coming.

  “And who are you to talk of stealin’, when you’re kissin’ the fiancée of another man – the fiancée of Prince Stefan of Dukka?”

  It was done.

  With a loud cry, Ariana sank to the ground, her head pressed to the knee of the man for whom she would die and whose admiration she knew that she had now lost forever.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lorenc then stepped away from her so sharply that Ariana fell forward onto her hands.

  Raising her head imploringly, she looked up into a face whose features had seemed turned to ice.

  “Dukka!” He repeated the name as if it was the name of a plague. “So this is the man you hinted was my ‘superior’? This is the man who will offer you the life of luxury you were born to enjoy?”

  He had posed his words as questions, but he waited for no answer.

  Cursing to himself, he turned and strode away.

  Ariana struggled up onto her feet and stared after him. Bonnie stood to one side looking somewhat stunned at the effect of her revelation.

  If she had then expected Lorenc’s attention to pass gratefully to her, she had been proved misguided.

  “M-Miss?” she ventured after a moment.

  Ariana turned large hopeless eyes on Bonnie. She now understood that the searing kiss she had witnessed had angered the maid and so there could only be one reason – Bonnie herself was in love with Lorenc!

  With a sudden sting of desolation she recalled that earlier Lorenc had cast an appraising look over the maid.

  Maybe Lorenc’s kissing of Ariana would have been followed by a tryst with Bonnie. Or perhaps even now the King of the Brigands was in the arms of the one most suited to be his Queen – the gypsy woman, Lulé.

  With a sudden cry Ariana pressed her hands to her face and stumbled away. She was barely aware of Bonnie, trailing miserably in her wake.

  The revelry was still in full flood as Ariana thrust her distraught way through the throng. No one noticed her. All eyes were on Lulé who, skirts held high and her ankles flashing, spun around on the platform.

  The music seemed much louder than before with a maddened strain. The laughter and shouts of the revellers were amplified within the mountain walls.

  Hands pressed now to her ears, Ariana ran on. She moved so swiftly that Bonnie was soon left way behind.

  Ariana had no conscious idea of where she might be heading, but, when after twenty minutes or so she found herself at the edge of the mountain pool, it was no surprise.

  Without hesitation she then plunged in, gown and all, the icy water like a punishing lash on her body.

  Here she might cleanse herself of her recent folly, the folly of forgetting where the business of her heart lay, the folly of letting her thoughts drift to dreams of Lorenc.

  Lorenc! The name escaped her lips in another wild cry. She must rid herself of his image and expunge him from her being. Why, she had become almost a vagabond like himself, wandering barefoot and – and dressing herself in gypsy clothes!

  In a wave of disgust she began to divest herself of gown and bodice, struggling in the water to release herself from their fatal bonds.

  There! She was free – she was herself again.

  Shivering and feverish of soul, Ariana waded back. Here she picked up her shawl and would have thrown it from her as well, had she not suddenly realised that she was now naked except for her bloomers, these so wet that they clung to her thighs.

  She draped the shawl about her, tying it under her arms. Now she was at least covered from breast to knee and she sank down on the rocks where, head on her knees, she sobbed until she was barely conscious.

  Next she heard Bonnie’s voice in the distance, but did not raise her head. Then strong arms lifted her up, clasping her to a manly chest.

  She knew that it was Lorenc and she equally knew that never again would she be held this close.

  Bonnie had clearly informed him of Ariana’s flight and his sense of honour had made him come to search for her.

  His anger would not yet have abated, but he had declared that she was under his protection and that duty he would fulfil were there no love or true concern behind it.

  Sensing all this Ariana did not utter a single word. She wondered to feel his limbs tremble for a moment as he adjusted her on his shoulder and then remembered that she was nearly naked and no doubt this disconcerted him.

  She was so tired and dispirited that she could not concern herself with her undressed state. Her head lolled against Lorenc’s chest as he carried her back to the camp.

  Never, never again would she hear his heart.

  This was her last taste of Paradise from which she would be henceforth expelled.

  Lorenc found a separate way back, one that did not involve passing through the crowd of merry-makers.

  Ariana felt herself lowered onto her pallet and, eyes tightly closed against what she knew would be his cold features, she sensed his gaze on her.

  “Build up the fire,” she heard him instruct Bonnie. “We don’t want her succumbing to a fever again.”

  Feeling that he then must have moved away, Ariana opened her eyes.

  She was startled to discover him still there, staring down at her. His expression was unreadable, his jaw rigid and his eyes black with rage.

  Ariana’s breast heaved with despair under his gaze.

  She held her breath as he then reached down and carefully but coldly drew up the shawl from where it had slipped a little.

  Without a single word, he turned away and at the cave entrance he paused to speak to Bonnie.

  “At one o’clock – remember,” Ariana heard him say. Then he was gone.

  Ariana turned to the wall. Bonnie had proved her nemesis, but perhaps that was as it should be. Bonnie’s revelations had cruelly brought her to her senses.

  She passed a bitter night.

  Until well after midnight she heard the continuing noises of celebration from outside. She imagined Lorenc with Lulé, his lips pressed to her lips with the same heat that they had once been pressed to hers.

>   When at last the noise ceased, she struggled not to imagine Lorenc leading Lulé to his bed –

  *

  When she did finally sleep, it was only to plunge into troubled dreams.

  She saw her Uncle Konstantin, the string of pearls, the gift from Prince Stefan, draped over his finger, which finger he wagged admonishingly at her.

  She saw Castle Dukka, as she always imagined it, a Fairytale creation of ivy strewn walls and turrets, but now with its moat was full of poisoned water.

  She saw Lorenc stoop over her, his dagger drawn and aimed at her almost bare breasts.

  From this dream she woke in a panic, clutching her blanket to her, eyes wild with horror.

  She was alone. Her eyes scanned the cave, lit with the flickering firelight. Bonnie was not there and then she recalled the whispered exchange she had overheard, ‘at one o’clock – remember.’

  Had Bonnie gone to a tryst with Lorenc?

  Ariana lay frozen in her bed.

  Towards dawn she heard Bonnie enter the cave and regarded her through lowered lids.

  The maid looked flushed with her hair awry and her bodice unlaced. And Ariana hid her face with a groan.

  Lorenc had possessed the maid where once he had desired to possess the Mistress!

  All, all was truly lost.

  *

  The following morning Ariana received a summons to visit Lorenc in his quarters.

  Gorci led her there, he seemed unusually cheerful that morning. Bonnie did not accompany them, being still in a deep guilty sleep and what was more she had not even troubled to undress before falling into bed last night.

  “Ah, don’t wake her,” Gorci had said indulgently.

  Ariana had thrown on the gown that she had first arrived in, although it was now faded with so many rough washings in cold water.

  She looked neither to right nor left as she followed Gorci, who whistled ahead of her.

  She had not visited Lorenc’s quarters before. They were situated in a ruined stone structure in another part of the valley from the camp.

  Ariana was shocked as Lulé opened the door and within Lorenc was sitting in a high-backed chair by a fire as another woman was preparing breakfast.

  Lorenc gestured to a chair and Ariana sat down. If she had harboured any faint hope that this morning would find him softened towards her, she was to be disappointed.