A jewel in shadow's nothing but a stone...
- Ginevra di Cavalcanti (1437-1480)
People like the Gypsies...
Most of them preferred moonless nights so
they could move with relative freedom in the labyrinth formed by the avenues
and alleys that crossed everywhere. And Gypsies were the greatest experts when
it came to sneak into the shadows. They knew all the secrets of the city, from
its filthiest alleys to the modest houses of the peasants, from the luxurious
mansions of the few nobles that lived there to the giant Cathedral that stood
in its centre.
Years of endless persecution had made them
learn, and even now that their persecutor had died, all those old habits
couldn't be killed as easily. The moon that shone now was like a curse to those
people, who knew that it could give away the movement that otherwise would have
passed unnoticed.
Foreign Gypsies were no exception. Not very
far from there, a Gypsy caravan was approaching as fast and silently as it
allowed its nervous occupants.
"We're almost there!" whispered a
male voice from the head.
Upon hearing that, the rest of the wagons
became agitated at the news, and sudden cries of delight filled the (till then)
quiet night.
Paris! At Last! After so many days of
tiring journey!! Standing only a couple of miles away from them was Paris! The
city where the Court of Miracles was located!! This was the final refugee for
every Gypsy in France (or at least that was what they had heard since Judge
Claude Frollo's death), where they could finally rest and establish themselves!
As the sounds coming from the excited
people became louder and louder, a figure scowled at the man who had previously
spoken and said:
"I think you should tell them to take
it easy. If they don't shut up we'll be discovered before even reaching the
gates of the city!"
The man that had told the other ones about
their imminent arrival to their destiny turned his face to the one that had
spoken and gave her a tired look. This man was doubtless a Gypsy. His dark
skin, gained from birth and many years of traveling under the burning sun, was
glistening with a light coat of sweat despite the coldness of the night. His
abundant hair, even though you could see a few silver strands here and there,
was as black as his eyes. A thick mustache covered his upper lip, softening his
stern face a little. He had a slim build, with broad shoulders and long arms. He
was sitting in a bending posture, probably caused by long hours sitting at the
step of the wagon guiding the horse that pulled it.
"If you are so worried, why don't you
go back there and tell them yourself?" he finally said.
"You know perfectly well that they won't
listen to a word I say. They never do... Besides, that's your job," was
the only reply he got.
Sighing, the man stood up revealing his
tall stature - at least 1.90m - handed the reins to his companion and turned
around to face the procession that advanced behind them. "Be quiet, all of you,
or we'll be spotted!" he said barely lifting his voice from his original
whisper, just enough so the people from the next car could hear him clearly,
but in a tone that left place for no objections. Almost immediately, the group
returned to their original silence, although a few joyful exclamations could
still be heard coming from the last carts that obviously hadn't got the
leader's order yet.
Soon the caravan returned to their initial
silence, but now it seemed like if the atmosphere had changed somehow, turning
from an unspoken uncertainty to a still nervous hope.
"Have you changed your mind? Or have your
forgotten it's my job to guide the tribe safely all the way to the Court
of Miracles?" the man groaned. He tried to snatch the reins from the hand of
the new driver.
"That's exactly why I don't want you guiding
us. You're far too tired to think clearly, much less to drive a cart," she
said, quickly moving out of his grasp. "Besides, we still have a two or three
good hours of road ahead of us before even reaching the gates of the city.
"So rest and gather back all your
strength while you can - oh, intrepid and almighty leader - and don't be
worried, for I'll be more than cheerful to give you back your post as soon as
we get there," she concluded with a half-mocking tone.
Resigning himself and knowing he didn't
really want to have those reins back, he just shuddered and went to the back of
the wagon, lying heavily and arranging himself where he could still see the
road and the sky from the big window in the side. In spite of how tired he
felt, he still didn't want to fall sleep, for he knew he was too worried and
nervous to get any rest, so he just decided to stay there gazing at the passing
landscape (or what little he could glimpse with the help of the moonlight). Not
that there was much to see. A few dead trees, undergrowth, one lonely house
here and there, barely noticable if not for the smoke that came out of their
chimneys or improvised bonfires...
Bonfires... The mere thought of them
was enough to send chills through his spine. No need to worry. Claude Frollo
is dead. There'll be no more persecution. We'll be safe as soon as we get to
the Court, he thought trying to reassure himself once more. No such luck. Suddenly
distressed and knowing that NOW he definitely wasn't going to get any rest at
all, he turned again and tried to make some conversation with the person seated
in front of him.
Not that that was an easy task
either.
But that was nothing new to him; after all
since he met her, Dharma had been everything but an easy woman. From her
twentieth birthday Dharma never seemed to act, look or think like any other
girl her age. For instance, Dharma never took any part in the theatrical life
of the caravan. While most of the young women there spent a great amount of
time practicing, dancing, singing or inventing tricks that would gather the
attention of the peasants and earn some money, Dharma occupied herself in other
much less spectacular ways, like doing the dishes, washing a family's clothes
while the mother was at the shows, sewing, knitting and weaving everything she
could find that needed to be done. Hunting never seemed to give her any trouble
at all, as well as helping the other men in the hard and repetitive job of
lifting and building the camp every time they arrived in any city (that, of
course, as long as she went unnoticed). In conclusion, she could be spotted
everywhere in the camp except for taking any part at the shows.
Since the tribe of the Mirgas had been
always well-known as one composed mostly of artists of all kinds (sculptors,
dancers, singers, musicians) he had come to a point where he had to ask - or
rather order - Dharma to participate in their next presentation at Florence. Even
after listening to Dharma's self-proclamation of being "The Worst Dancer in the
History of Europe" he couldn't believe her before actually seeing her.
He didn't know what he regretted the most;
the fact that she had scared almost all of the children away after almost
kicking one that had been laughing in the head, the moment when she fell into
that thorny bush or when he finally realized that she had no sense of balance
at all. After this demonstration he gave up with dancing and tried with
singing. Another mistake that had earned them all a good run trying to get back
all the horses that had been scared away by the screeching sound. Actually
Dharma's voice was quite nice when she talked: deep, strong, always decided, it
came out like a soft groan of pleasure whenever she spoke. The problem was that
she was totally out of tune.
A real shame, really. Luckily for her she
was still very agile with her hands. He knew that she could be a great musician
or at least a great sculptor or painter. But when she saw how calm and content
she seemed doing only the simplest labors he left her alone for she had proved
to be a great aid to the eldest women who found her company really amusing. He
didn't know why, because as far as he knew, she never seemed to say more words
than those that were necessary, and most of them came out like a curse, with a
harsh tone that sounded as if she were snapping at everyone in the place. Even
him, Koro Mirga, tribe leader.
Yes, Dharma was really something, but not
just by her behavior.
First of all she didn't look at all like a
Gypsy. Her skin was fair, much more clearer than the skin of any Gypsy woman
he'd seen, and it didn't seemed to have darkened at all even after being
exposed to the sun rays for so long. Her hair was silky, chestnut-colored and
straight but a little curly at its ends. It fell softly over her shoulders and
continued beyond the place where the back lost its name. Her features were
delicate: round face, pointed chin, small prominent cheekbones and cheeks
covered with a light blush. Her mouth wasn't small, with full lips that seemed
to pout in a unconsciously sexy gesture (which would have had a greater effect
if it wasn't for the permanent scowl that covered it). However, what really
called attention to her face were her eyes. Green. it seemed like God had
planted a pair of perfect gems in her face the day she was born, a pair of
emeralds that seemed to shine with a light of their own whenever she changed
her mood. Her eyes were big, with an oval shape that made them stand out from
her face, and a mole stood out in the tear-path underneath her left eye.
And her eyes had a great complement in her
stature. Dharma may have lacked any artistic talent, but on the other hand she
had been blessed with both a beautiful face and a body that could only be
described with one word: voluptuous. Tall, with a generous bust and voluminous
hips, her attributes were accentuated by her slender waist and long legs. It
was a real shame she dressed herself in such an ugly and old-fashioned way that
seemed to cover almost all her charms. Almost. And an even greater shame that
she had to walk with such an awkward, graceless manner: it made him wonder if
she wasn't doing it on purpose. No, he made a mental note to himself: he had
been a fool thinking the girl might have any talent for dancing at all if she
couldn't even walk straight.
Still, she was a real mystery. He already
had lost count of the times he had seen young women trying to teach Dharma a
proper way of walking: one that, if not sensual, at least wouldn't make her
look as if she had a hunchback. And he also had lost count of all the times he
had seen them fail miserably... Dharma didn't seem to care at all. Even more,
he could swear he had seen her wearing a small self-satisfied smile, although
it had faded as fast as it appeared.
No, he definitely didn't understand her. And
it seemed to him that he had had more than enough time to do so. It had been
six... no, seven months since she joined the tribe. He couldn't remember the
exact day, but to him it appeared as a very reasonable amount of time to get to
know her character, or at least get so used to it so he could ignore her. Not
such luck so far...
"What are you looking at?" a feminine voice
said, suddenly taking him out of his pondering.
It was her, of course. She had been aware
of Koro's stare since the beginning, but had waited until now to finally ask if
he had something to say, without turning her back from him.
"Nothing. I was just wondering if that
scowl would ever leave your face," he calmly answered.
With a dry chuckle she replied, "I've told
you before. It's not a scowl, it's a nervous tic."
After a small moment of silence, in which
he thought she had already forgotten about him, she turned around her face and
observed him with an scrupulous eye. "I though you said you were going to sleep
for a while?"
"You thought wrong." He lifted himself a
little so he was resting his head in his elbow. "You were the one that
told me to get some rest, and that's exactly what I'm doing."
"Staring at me as if I had a snake in my
hair isn't exactly what I'd call resting."
"Don't be silly. You can't expect me to
sleep like a newborn just like that, when we are about to reach Paris after
months of travelling! I'll sleep for a whole day and a night as soon as we get
to the Court of Miracles. In the meantime, leave me in peace!" he said, more
harshly than he had intended.
She didn't even flinch, just replied "Suit
yourself" before turning around and continuing to watch the road. Since they
had all of their lights turned off, she had to pay most of her attention to
where she was guiding them all. It didn't cause her any trouble at all.
During their conversation her face hadn't
changed a bit. Her serious and indifferent expression was plastered on as
always, but her eyes seemed to grow darker, no longer emeralds, but now pieces
of jade.
After another long pause her voice broke
the ackward silence that had been formed. "You weren't looking at my face," she
said, almost startling him.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You said you were wondering if my so
called scowl was something permanent, but you weren't looking at my face," she
repeated, her voice serious.
"I didn't need to. All this months you've
had nothing but that expression. I don't even need to look at you anymore to
know you're wearing that face," he said this time with a little indifference.
"Mhhhn," she said with a tone that wasn't a
yes or a no. It was more like Not even you believe your words.
They resumed the rest of the journey like
that, in silence, both looking at the road and the city that was ahead of them.
Until...
"I was just curious...."
Here we go again, Dharma thought. With
an inaudible sigh she asked, "About what? Didn't I already answer all of your
questions before joining the caravan?"
"Well, yes and no." He lifted himself from
his position as he started feeling his arm become a little numb. He sat up. Let's
see what I can get out of her this time. "You answered my usual questions
as I expected. You don't have any specific persecutor besides the common ones
all Gypsies have; you told me that you wouldn't put our community at risk... You
also told me that you wanted to reach the Court of Miracles so you could
finally find a place to stay..."
"Aren't you satisfied with my replies?"
"Like I told you before, yes but..."
"Why?"
"Why what?" Koro replied, a little
surprised that she had interrupted him.
"Why did you wait 'til we were just less
than an hour from Paris to start interrogating me again? Why not before?" And
she silently added You don't trust me?
"I didn't need to do so, and I don't need
to do it right now. Like I told you, I was curious that you wouldn't tell me
your real motives for coming on such a long and exhausting trip."
"What makes you think those weren't my real
motives?" Dharma asked, her expression unchanged but her voice a little amused
and nervous.
"Nothing, it's just that you don't sound
very convinced yourself," he observed. "I thought you liked traveling,
since you've been already in many caravans..."
"I travelled because I needed to, not
because I found it a real pleasure," she said with a hint of irony in her
voice.
"Because you needed to do so? As far as I
know you were very welcome at the last caravan from which you joined us. Their
leader accepted you as a member of his tribe in the same way I do. I didn't see
any reason for you to leave them," said a suspicious Koro.
"OK, OK, you are right. Maybe it wasn't a
need this time, but as you said, that's as far as you knew. Maybe I was
welcomed by their leader, and maybe the people there tolerated me or even
accepted my presence there, but there also wasn't any special reason for me to
stay there."
"You sure?" said Koro, now with a
conspiratorial smile. "I'm very sure of you having caught a few men there more
than ready to give you a very special reason..."
"Very sure," she said with a very
firm voice and a bitter smile that Koro couldn't see, for her back was still
turned to him. "There was nothing that attached me to them. Sure, I had a few
friends... No, more like partners in crime. But I didn't have my own trade, or
a useful place among them, just as I don't here."
"That's not true - you have proven yourself
a useful and productive person, and I can't remember a moment of the day I've
seen you stay still. You are always going from one place to another, busy doing
errands or on your way to find a new one..." After a moment of hesitation
he added, "Though it's true that you never take any part in any show we do..."
"And that disappoints you," she stated.
"I never said that," he replied quickly.
"You didn't need to," she said in a cold
voice.
He stood there for a moment not knowing
what to say, and just when he was about to reply that she was being silly by
thinking that, she continued.
"It is true that I'm always busy here, but
anyone can do errands, and that's not a way of earning any food or clothes or
anything at all. That's why I want to go to the Court of Miracles. I've heard
Paris has become a city full of opportunities since the death of that man
everybody keeps talking about, Minister Claude Fro-Idon'tknowwhat, so I just
decided to come here and test my luck, rebuild my life and if possible, find
myself a permanent residence." And get as far away as possible, she
added to herself.
"Rebuild your life?" Now Koro was curious.
"Just an expression. So really, tell me,
why did you wait so long before satisfying your doubts?" she added, quickly
changing the subject.
"You spend so much of your time doing your
'errands' as you call them that I can hardly find the time to do so, and i've
been very busy myself preparing everything for our arrival," he said in the
most natural voice he had.
"Ah" was all she said.
Seeing that he wasn't going to get any more
information from her that night, Koro lay down again, this time also turning
his back to her without any further questions. Most people would have found it
strange that Koro did not use his authority as the tribe's chief to interrogate
Dharma in a 'proper' way, that is, cornering her with hard and very personal
questions. Obviously those persons didn't know Koro at all. His mother had told
him once an ancient truth, "You'll catch more flies with honey than with
vinegar", and most of Koro's life's philosophy was based on that simple phrase.
In spite of all the curiosity he felt
towards the girl, he wasn't the kind of person that liked to use force or his
power to get his purposes done, and soon after meeting her he had realized that
all he would get from the girl if he pressured her would be either lies or
having her running away from their caravan; even though Dharma didn't look like
the type of person that allowed herself to be intimidated by anyone, and had
proved it in many occasions. Most of them were when she addressed him, a leader
respected by each and every member of his tribe, a person that only a few
people save the eldest dared to contradict.
With Dharma that wasn't the case. She did
it, but only when she considered it absolutely necessary and he had never heard
her voice break or even tremble under the light of his severe look. She seemed
to forget that he was the Shero Rom, or even that he was easily twice or almost
thrice her age. And he, although silently, always thanked her for it. Like this
time, in which he had felt too tired to keep driving and she had found the
first excuse she got for almost tearing him from the reins. Even though he had
made a great effort to hide his weariness, he hadn't fooled her.
It was very odd, realising that she had
come to know him much better in the little time they had been together than he
had, and he had been trying to do so. And even so, it was also a relief.
Now he was getting sleepy...
"Damn!" she cursed under her breath while
loosening her grasp a little and softly trying to rub her palms together
without losing control of the vehicle.
It was strange how she had become nervous. Koro
was one of the few people which she could feel at ease with, and now all of a
sudden she had gotten back into her old habit of getting on edge when anyone
dared to ask her anything about her. Even if this one was her dear friend
Koro...
"Idiot!" She closed her fists again. "Get
over it and concentrate on the road. Don't screw things up like you always do!"
Shaking her head softly and closing her eyes for a moment, she opened them
again just to find that now they were just half a mile from the bridge that
crossed the river Seine and that could conduct them to the city's interior. She
quickly stopped the cart.
"We're here," she said, turning around and
granting Koro one of her rare and beautiful smiles.
He immediately awoke and stood by her side.
He didn't know what had really awakened him, the sudden stopping of the wagon,
the fact that they were now only a few steps away from their goal, or Dharma's
smile greeting him, but as he saw it fade again he remembered that it didn't
matter.
What really mattered now was that they were
already there, he had had all the rest he needed for the moment and there only
remained one thing to do, perhaps the most dangerous and feared task of them
all: entering the city of Paris and finding the Court of Miracles...