Arabella's instinct during the attempted gypsy purging had not really been one of thought. But as she stayed as close as she dared to Erik while he fought, she had seen the children getting separated from their parents in the melee. Some of them were already alone, running and stumbling – a few even so young that they could barely stand on two feet – about in utter confusion. Bella had lunged for just one such child left feebly trying to crawl over its' mothers dead body.

The sight of the poor woman's bloody corpse had been far, far worse than anything Erik was leaving behind in his bloodthirsty wake. Erik was being defensive and methodical – even if a mad gleam had entered his eyes. This butchery had been methodical too – methodically cruel. Not fast and simple and mostly painless. But lingering and meant to cause pain. Bella even wondered if the poor woman had been raped with the child in her arms and her wounds bleeding out because her clothes were in such an odd disarray.

She'd been trying to use the skirt of her wedding gown to wipe the poor baby clean of its' mothers tacky half-dried blood when the young boy had appeared and tried to pull it away.

"Let go!" he shrieked. "Let go of my brother!"

"I don't want to hurt him!" Bella promised, trembling from the overwhelming sense of danger and familiarity this scene was causing. Flashes of memories were tumbling through her mind, although her memories were mostly feelings of dread, terror, and sorrow rather than fully-fledged images. The poor mutilated woman … the bloody child … the young boy protecting his family as if he were the man of the house... It all brought so much back without clarifying any half-buried memories. She clung tightly to the child, afraid of releasing it even to this clearly well-meaning boy. "Let me help you! My husband and I want to help you! Are there other children? Help me get them! Help me get them and I'll try to keep you-"

That had been when the blow came to her head. Bella had fallen hard like a rock, lightening flashing through her skull and fire racing down her neck. The pistol she'd been holding in one hand while simultaneously propping the baby under his butt tumbled from her grip to the ground. She groaned, trying to fall on her side so that she couldn't crush the baby in her arms. Somewhere in the distance, Erik was giving out terrifying howls that made him sound like some creature out of Hell. Dimly she wondered if his voice was echoing or just being thrown.

Over her briefly limp form, the adolescent boy who'd come for his little brother struggled, grunting with a man Bella never even saw until he was dead. She didn't see him take up the gun. All she could assume later was that he'd aimed it at the man, and the sight of a firearm had startled her assailant long enough for the boy to get in a really good wallop.

She recovered reasonably fast; but her mind was in even further confusion. She struggled back to her feet, one hand clutching the baby to her breast and the other seeking out blindly for the gun. The sun had sunk below the horizon, so there was still plenty of general light – but on the ground were deep shadows like black ink. A hand gripped her by the elbow, helping her to stand, and she had looked up to see the boy peering at her worriedly.

"Let me have my brother." he insisted again. Bella had seen his face splattered in blood – but sweat was already washing the few droplets away. She looked down and saw her husbands' gun in his hand and decided to let him keep it.

"I'll carry him." she told the boy. "Other children. We need to get the others. Will you help me?"

There was no thought. It was just the simple phrase that kept echoing through her mind in her grandfathers' voice.

Bella … mira chavi … Where are the others? Adnah! Be a good man and help me get the others! Yes, yes! We take them to the river! Hurry!

The feeling of being a small helpless child was overwhelming. There was no room to be embarrassed about her complete lack of observational skills or fighting skills. She had been blindsided by an attacker because she was not a fighter. Erik often teased her about this, pointing out that she was not meant to fight for herself. That she was stouthearted and well-meaning; but would never survive a battle if it came down to it. She was simply too gentle, in his mind, to bring harm to another person even if they meant harm to her or people she loved.

"What's your name?" she demanded of the boy, glancing around to see that Erik had made it dozens of yards away. Very few assailants had remained near her and the boy, given the apparent monster that had entered their own monstrous midst's.

"Tonio." The boy was now staring down at his mothers' body, and Bella could suddenly see how young he really was.

It didn't occur to her how close in age they were physically. Only three or so years apart, really...

"Then help me, Tonio, if you know where the others would be."
He had. He'd guided her with the pistol held like a club in one white-knuckled hand. They'd gathered all the children they could, often passing off the babies to those who could walk without tripping all over themselves. Some were bleeding, and it didn't pass Bella's horrified notice that at least one of them simply fell to the ground and got left behind. But by then she'd had other concerns. She'd been trying to herd those who were still mobile away from those who still meant them harm. Tried to get them somewhat closer to Erik, intending to keep the children to his back as much as possible and have the older capable children guarding the younger ones from the rear.

It's what grandfather had done. He, father, and Bunica, had taken responsibility for the children...

Bella … here... you hide down here. Yaakov, you stay with her. I need to get the others hidden. Keep My Jewel here...

Yes. Bella. Come on, honey. It's all right. Your grandfather will be all right.

But he hadn't been all right, Bella suddenly remembered. Again she flashed to the memory Adnah had uncovered that morning. The tribe … it was far too big just to have been her own group. Had they been at a festival? A meeting place with others of their own kind?

It didn't matter. All that had mattered were the multiple coffins lying side by side in the middle of their solemn, staring gaze.

She was not able to think straight beyond mere functioning. Unfortunately, it was up to the older children to keep an eye out for danger. All Bella could manage was to keep the younger ones herded together. The baby she'd fist picked up squirmed in her arms, whimpering in discomfort. No doubt she clutched it too tightly in her overwhelmed horror.

I'm sorry, Bella. I liked your grandfather, I really did. But he would have wanted you protected. I did what he told me to do.

It was the only time her father had ever protected her. The only time she could actually remember, anyway. And it had cost her grandfather his life. True, Yaakov had been shielding her in their hiding spot in the deep roots of an ancient tree. But he'd also been too cowardly to leave her there and jump onto even one of the backs of the three men attacking him. Bella had been able to see most of it from her spot, where Yaakov had clamped a hand over her mouth to keep their hiding spot secret.

Adnah had tried to help, and he'd only been about nine...

Bella fought a little this time … but trying to protect the children she'd only really been assisting Tonio. Not much more. And the world had begun to rock under her feat, lazily swinging like a hammock from two trees. It was almost impossible to keep her balance. Her neck felt like a steel column, and even with how light the child she carried was, her arms strained painfully. Even so, she managed to pick up another child, struggling more this time because the little girl was a large toddler with a somehow damaged ankle.

There was death and blood everywhere. By the time she finally stood near Erik again, watching him pant from exertion and exhaustion while blood-soaked blades slipped from his fingertips to stain the ground red, Arabella was struggling just to maintain her feet. She could see Erik … but his voice seemed to be coming from many miles away. She wasn't even sure he spoke a language she understood. Everything was just that incomprehensible.

She tried to open her mouth and tell Erik of the memories... of what she'd seen. She tried to explain about the monstrous savagery that had been committed on the gypsies.

My father protected me once. She thought dully. Adnah and I were friends. My grandfather was butchered by those monsters. This babies' mother was mutilated by those monsters. Humans … you were right Erik … they can be …

"Monstrous..." she finally managed, unaware of how little actually left her mind. "Monsters … a ll monsters..."
Erik pulled away from her then, and barked orders to the surrounding children. She looked down dully to realize the babies were gone. She tried to whip her head around in search of them, but agony ripped from her head, down her neck, and into the base of her spine.

What had happened? She couldn't remember everything. Only snippets.

Tonio stepped into view, and she realized he was holding his baby brother. She reached out with one hand, but he refused to relinquish the infant. Instead he took her by the arm and guided her towards the shack where she'd been living with Erik, pausing by the well behind the building. He gently sat her gently back onto the ground so that she leaned against the short rock structure before turning to assist the other children.

It was quiet, she realized finally. It wasn't clear how much time had gone by. But when she could finally blink away her horror and shock, she was surrounded. A middle-aged man somewhere around Erik's age was crouched in front of her with a hand on her shoulder. Deep chocolate brown eyes peered into hers in concern.

"Mademoiselle..."

She lifted her chin to acknowledge him, trying not to strain her stiff neck again. It was clear by the mans' tone of voice that he had been trying to talk to her for some time.

She blinked rapidly, straightening her shoulders until her body reminded her that this was an absolutely terrible idea.

"Yes?" she managed softly. She saw the man sigh as if in relief.

"You are staying here in this building?" he asked her. "Tonio said that we have permission to be inside?"
Bella furrowed her brow in confusion.

"Do you?"

"Your husband said that we do."

Tonio came into view cradling his tiny sibling. Whatever blood had been on him was long gone. In fact, he looked very clean, with soaking wet hair that shined in pale moonlight.

Her eyes lifted carefully to the sky and she realized that the sun had entirely set. Then her head turned – even more carefully as her neck didn't want to cooperate – to find over a dozen gypsy people slouched around the well. Many were injured and either being tended to or tending to people hurt worse than they were. Almost everyone was using their own torn clothing as wash rags, tourniquets, and bandages.

"We need more bandages … and hot water." the older gypsy man told Arabella, making her eyes return to him. "Can you help us?"
Bella straightened and tried to stand.

"Yes … of course... Where is my husband?" she wondered, trying to rise all the way to her feet without overbalancing into the well. Her eyes scanned the area desperately. "If he said that you can use our place … Didn't he tell you where things were?"

Not that there was much. Most of their many belongings were still in Paris. They were awaiting an address to be sent to in Trieste. In the meantime, Nadir had them stored safely away. Not everything could be brought with them, of course, but Erik hoped to eventually have his own furniture. Things like the piano had to be left behind entirely because dismantling and reassembling it would be too much of a hassle. But the bed and sofa and table and chairs were reasonably portable.

Still, they'd packed everything else up into large trunks that stood in a tall pile to one corner of a primitive shack already lacking floor space.

"He is not with us to tell us." the man explained. "After telling Tonio to bring you here, he walked off in that direction. He has yet to return."

Bella followed his finger in the direction of the village.

Had he chased more people away? Could he be fighting even now? Dead from being ganged up on? Or was he simply retrieving the horses and wagon? Bella's heart hammered at the distress not knowing gave her.

"I will show you where to get what you need." she offered. "Have the fires been put out?"

"Yes." Tonio assured. "No more danger from those. Dadrus... what about mama?"

Bella realized that this older man was Tonio's father, and her heart wrenched painfully at the realization that he was now a single father. A widow. The poor man … But he had his tribe to help him through it. After such a tragedy, the group would pull together more tightly than ever before. They would rally together and help care for the children.

Normally, gypsies firmly believed in the old adage that it took a village to raise a child. They just had no village to settle down in – and no desire for one.

"I've covered her." the man stated as stoically as possible. "That will have to do for now. We will bury her with the other dead later."

"You will not have time."

Relief flooded Arabella as she raised her eyes to find Erik striding forward with the horse on a tether. He was out of breath and drenched with sweat and blood. He seemed to have been struggling with the horse for some time. The closer they got to the scene of the gypsy massacre, the more ill-at-ease the horse became. Horses were notoriously easy to spook around fire and the scent of blood. Bella wanted to help Erik; but she knew she didn't have the strength to control the animal.

Still, she stepped out of the supportive grip Tonio had held her arm in, and reached out to him.

He looked exhausted, and startled warily at her approach in a way she did not understand. He held himself stiffly as she tried to put her arms around him.

"You are a mess, miri ves'tacha." she pointed out.

Erik hesitated before putting one arm stiffly around her.

"Yes." he agreed simply, clearly not certain how to respond. Bella was confused by his reticence, and looked up into his leery eyes. He had replaced his mask, so there was no one screaming at the sight of him. But those around them had gone cautiously – almost eerily – quiet. She tried to read his expressive eyes, ignoring the discomfort around them as he peered right back down at her. "You are hurt."

"I'm all right."

Bella stepped back and tried to turn away, but Erik wouldn't completely relinquish his hold on her.

"Come inside. Let me look you over." he insisted.

She glanced down at herself, grimacing at her torn, disheveled, and bloody wedding gown. It had been so beautiful. Now it was worthy of nothing more than being just another rag.

"No. There are others hurt much worse-"

"-and they are getting the best help possible." Erik nearly growled. "I did what I could to save them, and I will continue to help if they accept it. But I will satisfy myself that you are not badly hurt, first."

Sighing, Bella nodded and let him guide her towards their tiny shack. Tonio followed uncertainly behind, clearly wanting to find the materials Erik had promised them earlier. But he gave the boy a sour expression.

"There is material and food in the wagon." he snapped. "Use that. I will come out soon enough."

Inside, Erik lit the few small hurricane lamps and several candles they had been using as sparingly as possible. Then he turned and purposefully gripped her head between his hands, turning her this way and that to examine her wound and her eyes.

"Follow my finger." he commanded. "Don't move your head."

She obeyed, looking at him uncertainly.

"You're angry with me?" she whispered. She was startled just how thready her voice sounded. "Is it because of tonight? Our wedding night is ruined again?"

Erik sighed.

"Nothing is ruined." he promised. "We still have a future together. That is all that matters to me."

"Then … why are you so upset?" she asked.

"I am not." he promised, although he certainly didn't sound anything other than quietly enraged. "I'm exasperated, and tired, and aching. You put yourself in danger tonight for these strangers. You've gotten injured over it. You could have been killed. And … and I let Azrael loose … It is … a lot … a lot to handle all at once..."

Bella squinted at him in confusion; but this made her head ache and Erik sighed in frustration.

"You have a concussion." he stated. "You need to lie in here and rest. I'll do what I can to help the survivors. But we cannot take forever. We need to pack what we can and leave before the villagers come back."

"I can help." She didn't want to be left alone in the shack to rest. It didn't seem right to remain in a quiet dark house healing herself when so many others were at risk of infection or death. She could easily be out there helping in spite of her dizziness and lack of concentration. And she was starting to feel better. She certainly felt more there than she had minutes before.

"No." Erik denied vehemently. "I will tie you down, first! Understand? You stay in here. Rest. If someone comes to the door and asks for material, give it to them. Take in anyone I send for the protection of the house. Otherwise I want you lying on that mattress and closing your eyes!"

"Erik, why-" She understood his reasons for wishing to keep her safe, of taking care of her and protecting her. But his instant rage confused and almost frightened her.

"Bella, the beast is already out of its' cage tonight." He snapped. "Your monster has shown itself once more, and it does not like going back to sleep quietly. Unless you want to face it further tonight, listen to me!"

Her jaw dropped open, and she gaped at him insensibly for a long moment.

"My monster?" she demanded. "Erik ...what? What is this about? I don't understand!"

Erik huffed an exasperated breath.

"Never mind." He ground out between clenched teeth. "I go to help those people gather and tend to their injured now – if they let me anywhere near them. We need to hurry. We cannot be here if those people return. They will bring more people, more guns, maybe dogs. We have got to get out of here."

His thoughts made her blood run cold, and she gripped his forearms almost desperately.

"Erik... You've done enough." she tried to soothe. "We can give them what they need … but if you really believe we are still in danger … I don't want to be here anymore."

"Nor do I." Erik admitted bitterly. "But if there is one thing I won't allow, it's for your tender conscience to be tormented by leaving these people still in disarray in a dangerous place. We will help them all get away from here before parting ways."

Taking a deep breath, Erik took a moment to stroke her cheek once, and kiss her forehead. When he spoke again, he voice was painfully tender.

"Please obey me, Mira Ves'tacha. Stay in here and rest. Take care of yourself so it is not yet another concern once we're out of this mess."

She didn't want to obey. She wanted to gather the things the gypsies needed, and help them to bandage and tend the injured. She wanted to go out there and help gather the bodies so that they could be properly buried. But … if Erik was right … if they villagers retiurned … there certainly wasn't time for a small mass grave.

So she obeyed him. While alone in the shack, she went through their belongings to find cloth that could be used for rags. Some of her older clothes from before Erik had insisted on a whole new wardrobe could be torn up. And of course she had plenty of dicklo's she could sacrifice or the cause. She had to dig for them; but since no one came looking for them she didn't need to rush too fast. It was possible to keep their already carefully packed belongings neat and tidy. And she had time to finish preparing to leave. All that was left was to put everything in the wagon, and she would need help with that.

Raised voices caught her attention hours later, when she was by that point just sitting there starring off and half-dozing. The world was spinning a little and it felt like a swarm of flies was buzzing inside her head. Her neck and shoulders were in agony; but she refused to acknowledge it. There were no drugs to help her pain, so she would simply have to suffer through it.

Standing and working her way very carefully to the door, she looked outside to see Erik arguing heatedly with several of the gypsy males.

"...don't have time. We've wasted enough as it is!" Erik was trying to tell them.

"We cannot leave their souls to wander!" Tonio's father was one of the men Erik argued with, and he was stepping aggressively closer. "We will not do that! If you are done helping us, then that is up to you; but we cannot do that!"

"And what good will it do when your bodies lay unburied next to theirs because you were too stubborn to run when you could?" Erik demanded.

"Not all of our wounded can even be moved!" the man beside Tonio's father insisted. "What about them?"

"I am paid through to the end of this month for this building." Erik said, motioning to the shack and noticing Bella in that moment. He frowned briefly at her but continued the discussion. "You can hide them within. I am sure you can make the place seem deserted and give them no reason to find or harm the injured."

"Or it will be burned down over their heads!"

"I cannot tell you what to do with your injured." Erik admitted. It was physically obvious how hard he was trying to remain patient with these people. "There is no good option. But you need to get the others away from here ..."

He glanced briefly at his wife again.

"...especially the children. My wife risked her life for them. You cannot let them remain in such danger."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Bella already understood immediately what dilemma everyone was facing. Gypsies believed that if their dead were not buried properly that their souls could not find peace. They would wander eternally lost and unable to find their tribe or family. Usually they would try to bury them in a sanctified cemetery. At worst, they would bury them at the roadside so they could continue to travel as was the gypsy way. A lost gypsy soul was one of the greater sins they might commit against a dead family member.

She stepped forward quickly.

"What if we burned them?" she offered, raising her voice.

Burning a body was almost as bad as not burying them at all. But … it was at least a step better. Gypsies understood well enough the occasional necessity of burial by pyre. Particularly if it prevented the spread of disease. Bella could easily argue that this would help keep the bodies of their current dead safe from further insult by returning malicious villagers. But she probably wouldn't have to point that out.

Erik say that she was having trouble keeping on her feet, and hurried over to put an arm around her and help her remain standing.

"It takes over twenty-four hours to burn a body, ma belle." he explained. His voice was infitiely more patient with her than it had been with the others.

"But there is a lot of drift wood on the beach out there." /Bella argued, pointing towards the smell and sounds of ocean waves. They were distant, but could be reached rather easily by wagon. "Can't we make a raft for the bodies and light it? It could be far worse. And it would allow the bodies to not be found before they are properly ..."

She was being glowered at by the gypsies, so silenced herself.

"No." Erik said gently. "We could make the effort … put it on the beach. But a tide or strong wind could blow it out."

"The injured could stay on the beach." Tonio's father stated. "It is safer there than here where the villagers already know to find us. They could keep it burning... travel when they feel better."

Erik nodded.

"Then I will lend you the use of our wagon. We move quickly. I have to have my wife out of here by dawn."

He turned to gently draw Bella away from the group before they could argue further.

"We will never get the stench out of the wagon … thank God it will be in the open air and as soon as we get to the train station we can leave it behind. How do you feel?"

"Much better." Bella lied. "Well enough to travel, at least."

"I'll decide that when we're ready." Erik stated, absentmindedly caressing her loose hair once. "I just hope I can keep from strangling these superstitious fools before dawn..."

Bella hugged him tight, and he sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry … I know they are … sort of … your people..."

"I have no people now." Bella admitted. "I only have you, and that is enough for me. You should get cleaned up and change."

"After we move the bodies." Erik decided. "There is no point in washing and changing more than once."

He glanced down at her wedding gown.

"Do you need help with that?"

She glanced down at herself, blushing hotly.

"I … yes..." she admitted. "I just wish it were under different conditions."

Erik smirked softly.

"So do I. But there will be other times, mira kom."

"I am sorry this ruined our wedding night."

"Nothing is ruined, ma belle. Absolutely nothing." Erik assured with a gentle, tired smile. "Nothing you decided tonight could have helped the outcome. It is better than cowering in fear under a wagon hidden in grass, yes? Come … I'll help you get out of those."

It should have been a seductively teasing sentence. But surrounded by gypsies as they were who might knock and intrude at any moment, it simply couldn't be. Erik didn't like feeling so close to other humans on a good day. When he was so on edge he certainly wasn't going to take a few moments of privacy as an opportunity to swiftly sleep with his wife. Especially not on their wedding night, which should have been slow and tender and a true celebration.

So he simply helped her out of the elaborate trap that was her torn wedding gown, and pulled out – much to her surprise – The Red Dress.

"This will be good for traveling just as it is for dancing." he told her, helping her quickly step into it and tighten the few simple laces. He seemed to be taking the tiny opportunities to touch her that he could. She noticed that … it seemed to soothe him. He was less agitated when they were in physical contact. "Besides, we don't have time to fumble through and find real traveling clothes. And I think you tore most of those dresses into rags."

Bella blushed hotly, making him chuckle and lean in to give her a lingering but simple kiss.

"I am willing to wager you had not expected the bad times to start so soon." he teased her. "You seem to be doing a little better. If you want to come out and help … just … take it easy. Please..."

So she did. She was happy to help however she could – which was mostly by helping with the children. Since several adults had died, leaving orphans or single-parented families, many adults had their arms full of little ones. Bella took them off of their hands for temporary relief whenever she could. And because she spoke their language, it was much easier for them to trust her.

"What happened to your husband?" one adolescent girl asked as she handed over a young cousin. "Why does he wear that mask?"

Bella smiled to hide her ill-ease.

"Does it matter? He has saved many lives tonight."

The girl was young enough for this to silence her questions. She seriously thought over Arabella's question before nodding.

As the dozen or so bodies were carried to a by-then empty wagon, Bella couldn't help but cry at the sight of mutilated flesh covered in mud and dried blood. It was heartbreaking to endure the sight of such cruelty and hatred once again.

Why was the world so hateful? So cruel?

She clutched tightly to the baby boy she'd been handed, careful not to disturb the four-month-old's slumber. It, at least, had not been harmed or traumatized as so many others certainly had.

Erik finally came to find her wearing fresh traveling clothes, smelling like he'd washed at the well and looking twice his age even through the mask.

"I am taking them down to the ocean." he stated. "Do you want to come?"

"No..."

Bella dropped her eyes to the ground, causing Erik to pause and place a hand gently on her cheek – thumb rubbing at the tracks of old tears.

"Are you in pain?" he asked worriedly.

"Yes... but that's not it." she admitted, looking slowly to the wagon of bodies. "I remember, Erik. I remember … my grandfather died because of something like this. Adnah and my father both actually tried to help him … and me … I was protected once … It feels like I'm there again …"

Erik sighed heavily.

"Oh, ma belle … I'm sorry. I understand … But we'll be gone from here in another hour or two. And then, hopefully, we'll be able to leave the pain behind... Yes?"

She struggled to smile.

"Yes..."

"Stay somewhere safe. Most of the older children will come along. Keep an eye out. And if you see anyone coming-"

"-I will scream like a banshee." she promised. "You are not the only one who can spread horror stories when you set your mind to it."

Erik laughed openly at that.

"I have no doubt, mira kom. None at all."

"Erik... What about the other bodies?"

"We've placed them in the grove." he said indifferently. "Not hard to find them if their people come looking. But we would not want to mix them with the Romani, would we?"

"No." This time Bella spit to the side as she'd seen her grandmother do many times. "Mullo bastards."

"Yes." Erik agreed. "Yes, indeed."

A/N: Transitions are hard sometimes... Hope you've all liked this so far. I will probably make a nasty jump cut to Trieste. So please be prepared.