Thank you for all your sweet reviews, I'm really excited about this story, obviously s I said Diamonds in Persia is my main story and if your reading it you'll know the story line is quite complex and takes a lot out of me!

I'm so sorry if you feel I'm not doing this story enough justice, the story line is beautiful and believe me it's going to be one heck of a story, so please I know its slow at the moment, please stay with me!

Once again the wonderful Christine Stein owns this story, she deserves all the credit!

Chapter 4-Christine POV

I had woken up in the tent, snuggled close to my Papa, his large arms holding me tightly. It seemed silly a girl of my age sleeping in the same bed as her Papa, but last night had been horrible and my dreams had been haunted by the sad boy, the young man who I had given my cloak to, I had kept tossing and turning thinking of his shivering body, I hoped he was warm enough, I hoped the blood on his back was dried up now, and that he was not in pain. Oh I knew he was the poor, poor boy. I turned over, Papa was snoring, loudly as always, but it was such a comforting sound. I lay looking up that tents roof; I didn't feel comfortable at all in the camp. I had tossed and turned all night, but it wasn't just the boy, the whole night had been horrible.

Papa had taken me by the hand into the camp where the gypsies had all sat around a roaring fire, on seeing Papa they jumped up smiling begging him to play his violin, to teach them how to play too, he smiled and told them he would do so after supper, they all smiled eagerly, shuffling aside on their log seats patting the space beside them for my Papa to sit, I clutched his hand and sat beside him, the log was slightly slimy and I managed to slide of backwards, hitting the grass, the gypsies looked at me rolling their eyes, Papa laughed and pulled me up, I blushed frantically as I watched the young gypsies laugh at me meanly from the other side of the fire. The food the gypsies ate was strange, but nice nonetheless, I had been super hungry I hadn't eaten properly for a few days and hadn't the heart to complain to Papa when we were travelling, now there had been large platters filled with strange meats, some sweet some covered in sour sources, fruits were passed round also, everyone ate with their hands n cutlery was used, and I had smiled at how the sauce had covered my fingers. But half way through my second bite of the sweet meat, I thought of the young boy, and suddenly found it very hard to swallow. He was so skinny, I wondered when was the last time he had ate, and whether or not he was okay. I had checked that no one had been looking and tucked two slices of the meat into my dress pocket, if I saw him again I knew he would be hungry. Thankfully no one had seen. I had snuggled close to Papa by the end of the night and the gypsies had begged him to get his violin and as he had promised he rushed off to the tent to get it. I had sat awkwardly on my own, on the log which was wet and stick. I had noticed as I waited for Papa staring into the large fire, that the large gypsy the one who I had seen walking towards the cages was now coming towards the fire. My stomach went cold, and the gypsies who saw him, moved quickly to make a large space for him to sit, his brow was covered in sweat, he spat on his hands rubbing them together, throwing the whip to the floor, I noticed with a gulp that it had blood on the end of it. My eyes went wide. What was that from? Then I had noticed all of the gypsies eyes turning to look at my Papa who was no playing his violin, everyone watched and a smile had danced across my lips as e played, he was such a talented man, he winked at me as he played, the beautiful melody escaping the strings, I loved watching Papa play it truly was lovely to watch as his hands would make the bow dance across the strings. It made my eyes droop, for many years, ever since I was a little girl Papa had played his violin until I slept, and with the large fire and the heat that came of it, the thoughts of the sad boy and the heavy tiredness consuming me, I fell asleep on the log, closing my eyes.

But now I was awake and the wind was howling all around the tent, I snuggled further into Papa, I guessed he had carried me into the tent, as I had no recelation of getting up and moving to it. I wondered what the time was, judging from the darkness around me, I was guessing it was only early morning, but as I listened I could hear movement all around the tent, I thought at first it was the wind playing tricks on me, but then I realised it was in fact people's voices, loud and calling to one another, barking orders against the wind. I sat up, slipping from the tiny bed and trying desperately to not awaken Papa, the tent was very bare, so I had no worry of falling over anything save the solitary table. I crept to the flap of the tent, reaching forward to open it, but before I could it was ripped open by a gypsy hand.

'Timon says be ready, we leave soon.' It was a tall man, with no front teeth, he spoke in an heavy accent, I nodded at him smiling. I quickly changed my dress, into one that was warmer than the one I had been wearing, I didn't have much to choose from so decided on the dark purple, it had a high collar, and would go well with my navy cloak, then I remembered the young man, he had my cloak, I could hear the wind from inside the tent and feel it's cold bite, I prayed that my cloak had given him some warmth. I pulled my black cloak around me, tying it and then decided to awake Papa, I giggled and leapt upon the bed, tickling his sleeping sides, he raised his bearded head from the pillow, yawning with a smile, as I tickled him more.

'Bon matin mon cherie,' he smiled at me, rubbing his eyes, and sitting up, I embraced him tightly.

'Bon matin Papa, they say we have to leave soon.' I said sadly, I really didn't want to leave the tent, though it was plain and dull I didn't want to have to face the gypsies again, they seemed all so unkind and mean, not like the mystical creatures I had read about. I sighed, but then thought of the young man, and felt my stomach go tight, I would have to see him today, I couldn't help but wonder if he had even survived the night, I prayed with all my might he had, I needed to see him, I had to know why he was in the cage, why he was treated so poorly.

I quickly exchanged the meats and fruit I had stolen the previous night for the young boy and put them into my dress pockets as Papa changed, he didn't notice how my pockets were now full, he took my hand the other holding his violin case we left through the tent flap.

The weather outside was wild, the wind was whipping up a storm, I pulled my cloak's hood up as did Papa, but I noticed the gypsies despite the weather still had very little clothing on, they didn't even shiver, all of them rushing and racing forward, Papa followed after them as we reached the edge of the clearing where the trees were thick again, I saw the cages lined up and my heart stopped, all of the cages now had a horse attached to the front, no doubt used to pull as it might pull a carriage, I felt sad at this the horses were so beautiful, he cages looked heavy surely too much weight for the precious creatures to handle, but that was not the main reason I felt as if I was going to be sick, it was in fact that I knew one of the cages held the young man, the poor young man. All of them were covered, in different materials, so I could not see which one he was in.

'Come on!' Timon bellowed, the gypsies around us all raced forward and leapt up onto the cages sitting on their sides and behinds, some up the front with the drivers, Papa lifted me to the front of one cage, the driver was a young man who knew no French or English, he simply ignored me. There was much to my dismay no room for Pap where I sat, he gave me a kiss on the forehead, then raced off to sit on the back with the other gypsies who all fought to sit with him. Suddenly with a jolt the cage began to move, the beautiful chestnut horse who I had petted in the woods bore down and dragged the cage along, the young man half asleep holding the reins, the wind was still relentless and seemed to burst through the trees as we travelled along the path, we were the first cage so I only had the path before us to look at and the endless trees which had lost their magic. I then heard a staggering cough, at first I thought it was the wind, then I realised it was coming from the cage.

My heart stopped, I gave a look at the young man beside me who was leaning forward, holding the reins lazily now, his eyes nearly shut. I scrambled to the cage's side out of the carriage part, and now beside it, I froze once there, but found the young driver didn't even notice I was gone. I leant against the cage, not yet lifting the cover, but then the coughing began again, it had to be him! The young man I had spoken to. I nervously lifted the corner of the cover, and peered into the cage, through the thin bars, I gagged at the smell, squinting slightly at the darkness, then I saw him and nearly fell off the moving cage backwards, he was in worse condition than before, he was sprawled on the floor, and I could see his back which was purple! Not even skin coloured anymore, but bright purple with savage bruising, I could see his matted hair was very, very thin and short from the back. He gave another cough as he did so his ribs juttered out.

'Bonjour?' I said quietly. I watched him spin around much like he had done the night before, those two big eyes burning into me, the one of blue and the one of brown, I dropped his gaze immediately. He dragged himself forward, the chains rattling as he did so, he looked at me in wonder as he did so, coming neared to me. I tried not to look at his chest which was the same colour as his back, that same bright purple.

'Y-you c-c-ame back.' He whispered, his eyes holding confusion, I gave him a sad smile.

'Qui.' He dragged himself forward more now, I wondered if he could use his legs or not, then I noticed through the sludge on the floor that there was also chains on his ankles.

'W-why?' he asked strangely, as if not being able to understand why I would want to talk to him.

'Who made you bruised?' I said quietly, I bit my tongue afterwards knowing I shouldn't of asked such a question, but I couldn't help it, it made me terribly sad to think he was being hurt. He closed his large eyes as I said this, shaking his head.

'I-it-it doesn't matter.' he said fearfully closing his eyes, I watched as the tears escaped from them, I wanted to comfort him, I hated who ever had hurt him.

But before I could say anything a loud rumble came from his stomach, I giggled, as he looked ashamed, then at me in wonder, making me drop my eyes as he stared.

'Here, I brought you these.' I smiled taking the handfuls of food I had stolen and passing them through the bars, he did not take them.

'Y-y-ou got t-hese for me?' he asked looking scared.

'Qui, you looked hungry.' I smiled leaning further through the bars, he looked ta me warily, then took them.

'M-merci!' he said dropping the food to the floor and eating it as fast as he could, he gagged and choked as if involuntarily, tears rolled down his face, well the material that covered it as he looked in great pain.

''Are you okay?' I said quietly as he devoured the apple almost in one, his skeletal fingers clutching to it.

'I-I'm so, so hungry, th-thank you.' He breathed, shoving more meat into his mouth, his face expanding beneath the material as he filled his cheeks.

'You most welcome.' I smiled, then noticed that my cloak was gone. 'What happened to my cloak, did it not keep you warm?' I asked sadly, he looked up as I said this.

'I'm-I'm so sorry, he-he took it.' He whispered, looking down.

I didn't know who he was, but I hated them how could they do such a thing, taking away this poor young man's warmth.

'It's okay, I might have a spare quilt you could use.' I smiled, he ragged himself closer.

'W-why are you so kind to Erik?' he asked, his voice was so beautiful I could feel every word and syllable being pronounced.

'Who is Erik?' I asked confused. I watched his eyes widen.

'S-sorry. I' am Erik.' He whispered now.

I couldn't help but beam, he did have a name! He was Erik, what a beautiful name that was, beautiful Erik. It suited him, dark and mysterious.

'I'm Christine, Erik.' I smiled, feeling so happy now.

'I know C-christine.' He said with a laugh, it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. Then there was quiet for a moment, as I let my legs dangle and my body rest against the cage.

'Can you s-s-ing C-christine?' he asked, his voice had so much power to it, even with the stammer. I nodded,.

'Not very well.' I sighed, I had always wished to sing, but suffered terribly from fear of singing in front of people, I was not a performer like Papa, he loved the crowds I feared them. I had no confidence in my voice, I knew I did not have that beauty like other girls did. I was in fact very plain.

'C-could you sing for me?' he asked embarrassed, I was a little shocked at this request, but found myself nodding anyway, then heard the dragging of chains, as he drew closer to me, so I could now see the cuts around his eyes, I wondered what other damage had been done to his covered face? I breathed in deeply and sung almost in a whisper.

'Melody, melody, melody, melody

Sung so melodiously

Melody, melody

My kind of melody

Gentle and flowing and free

Soaring above ev'ry rooftop

Whispering under each tree

Melody, melody

My melodie de Paris

Paris is the rain

Paris is the pain of a lover's goodbye

It's the stare when your eye meets a stranger

Ever dangerous

I heard him gasp and stopped quickly, looking down at my hands feeling very foolish.

'Th-that was beautiful Ch-Christine, very beautiful.' He was wide eyes and his mouth open slightly, as he looked at me, I giggled.

'Can you sing Erik?' I asked, I loved saying his name it was beautiful like a new sensation that made shivers run up my spine.

'Y-yes, but I don't like to.' He whispered, I smiled at him, showing him it was okay.

'I don't like it much either, I wish I was a great singer though, to be on all the beautiful stage's just like Papa.' I sighed longingly.

'You will C-Christine, I-I know it!' he said, and for the first time I heard confidence in his voice.

I beamed at him, then felt the cage come to a juttering halt.

'Y-you must go!' he said urgently, I let go of the cover and slid back down next to the driver, looking forward I realised we were no longer surrounded by woods, but now by a field, almost a meadow, but there were other tents around the meadow, large ones much like the one's in the camp, they were all in a circle, other cages surrounded ours now, where we had stopped and outside the meadow could be seen roads leading into villages.

The gypsy didn't say anything simply jumped down and walked away, untying the things of the side of the cage, I looked round and saw that all the other gypsies were doing the same, I watched as Timon's large figure embraced an equally disgusting looking character who emerged from the largest tent in the circle, they gave cackling laughs then slapped one another's backs, before he began bellowing.

'Right, same as always, stalls to be set up, cage's stripped down, punters will be here at noon, everything to be ready understood?' The gypsies nodded, and raced off minding their own business. I was about to lift the cover again and see if Erik was okay, but Papa came round the corner.

'Sweetheart, Timon's going to show me where I'm to be, you stay here okay? Look after my violin, I'm trusting you.' He smiled, kissing my forehead, putting the violin case into my hands, I smiled at him, giving him a squeeze before watching him walk away.

I scrambled up to the cage, and lifted the corner of the cover, peering in at Erik, who was rocking with his knees pulled into his chest.

'Erik?' I whispered, his eyes opened and he dragged himself painfully to me again, I smiled and pushed the violin case through the bar's he gasped when he realised what it was.

'I-I can play it?' he asked amazed.

'Of course.' I knew Papa wouldn't mind.

I watched as with shaking fingers, which were slightly blue he undid the metal of the case, it was if he was holding his breath, I noticed as he stretched his hands opening the case, touching every part of the leather, almost lovingly, the deep scars around his wrists beneath the chains, they were blistered and boiled. I suppressed a gasp, but had tears in my eye's how could anyone be so mean? So cruel, I didn't know! He picked up the violin, the material on his face moved up slightly, and his miss matched eyes shone, I knew he was smiling which made me feel all warm inside. He put the violin to his cheek and shoulder, his long arms holding it tentatively, his eyes closed.

Then he put the bow to the strings, I nearly fell backwards, I gasped, and felt myself be pulled forward by some unknown force, surely this wasn't possible. This sound that was being produced, it was so sad! So upsetting that actual tears rolled down my cheeks, each note told a story, one of abuse, of pain, of longing. I let the tears fall, as I wiped my eyes and watched him play, his hands moving expertly. It was breathe taking, so beautiful, I watched as I cried, noticing that tears fell from Erik's eyes also.

The cover was stripped away, and the harsh light fell upon Erik, who didn't seem to even notice as he continued playing, I pulled back from the bar's slightly that I clutched to.

But then I realised it was Papa and Timon staring into the cage, Papa looked at Erik in wonder, whereas Timon looked ready to kill.

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