Gold Raven (7 page)

As they reached the bottom, she looked beyond to a stone enclosure about a quarter of a mile away from them. It had once been a hidden convent, and now…it housed bandits, rebels, escaped slaves, Indians and thieves, as well
as a collection of wild women and whores.

Now, after having gotten through the hell of being taken from her family, and forced to travel all of that way, she lay listening to something so ironic, she felt her anger ignite once again. It seemed, this Jefé whom they had stolen her for…didn’t want her. Not only did he not want her…he was upset that they had brought her to him. So far, he had done nothing but yell and curse Juan, right outside of the lodging where she lay tied…his lodge.

“
What a
stupido
!! Where is your thinking!? What do I need – with another woman on my hands!? Here – finally, I find peace; now that Jessie has gone with Samuel, thank the heavens! And what do you do, you bring me another! I have a wife; your very own cousin for goodness sake-…”

“
But Miguel…you must see her – she is different this one! She is a gypsy with hair like gold, skin like-…”

“
A gypsy!? You brought a gypsy, here, to me!? Did Maria see you bring this gypsy?” Miguel asked with dread. Juan stood silently, which was answer enough. Eugene grinned. “I told him Jefé. I ask him this myself…what of Maria? His answer, you will work it out! As leader, you should have the best! An-n-nd, even I will admit, this one is something for the eyes to see. Once you see her, if you still feel the same. I will take her off your hands.” Eugene offered.

“
You will not!! The gypsy is mine if Jefé does not keep her for himself.”

“
Juan…Juan…you are not man enough to handle such as she. Stick with your whores; they always like you, especially when your pouch is heavy with coin!”

“
Beso mi’cudo madicon!”
Juan instructed Eugene to kiss an area of his body, while labelling him a lover of mothers. Eugene laughed and puckered up throwing kisses at him.

Miguel stood dusty, saddle sore, and weary. He was not in the mood for them, or the gypsy lying within his lodging. No wonder when he returned to camp, Maria was nowhere to be seen. She was no doubt within her lodging in the midst of their children, sulking and waiting to attack him over the gypsy.

“
This gypsy, did she, come willingly, or…?” He let the question dangle. Juan gulped, and then shrugged showing white teeth. “We convince her…ohhh,
un’piqueto
.” He showed a small pinch with his fingers to gesture a little bit. Miguel stared at Juan a moment; and then turned to Eugene.

“
We took her…roped and tied.” Eugene looked at Juan. “It was all his idea.”

“
Dios Mio
! Juan. No doubt she has a temper to match that of a wild cat!”

“
No-no! This one… she is as – as gentle as a kitten.” Juan lied.

Eugene barked with laughter. “Yes…Jefé mind that you do not untie the kitten! This,
kitten
only kicked me in the head, busted his mouth and then, once again attacked us both…bloodied his nose and pushed me into a fire to burn me alive. Do not untie her.” Eugene warned.

“
I see, so she is now tied?” Miguel inquired turning to Juan.

“
Only because, once inside the camp – she acted a little, crazy; she try to pull my pistol, nothing serious.” Juan explained.

Miguel started laughing, and as he did so threatened. “I’m going to kill you, but first, I will string you up by your little toes; bare assed, legs apart so that the birds can pluck the crabs from your balls!” Everyone standing near burst into laughter; Juan crossed his legs and covered his privates.

“
Go! Out of my sight, I must think what to do!”

“
Maybe I take the gypsy from you now? Save you the trouble.” Juan asked hopefully.

“
I will speak with her. Calm her, and ask what is it she wishes; if her desire is to return from whence she came…prepare for another ride.” Miguel warned.

Juan made a face. “Oh nooo, I will just keep her?”

“
Not if she is unwilling! Go!” Miguel was done. All knew when it was time to leave him. Miguel stood looking into his abode. Women were a royal pain in the ass, plain and simple. They always found reason to complain. They knew nothing of the word “Satisfied” or its meaning… to be pleased was their greatest mystery; they had not a clue to it. As far as he was concerned, they whined too much, they pouted most all of the time. When that did not work, the tears flowed. Yet, with a sigh, he also realized and admitted that with all things in life one might enjoy, there came a price. To have a woman, a man must suffer with their mood changes, their frailties, their demands and their rage. At that he shivered. Even so…they brought a pleasure that no real man could deny…and so… most all men were willing to pay the price.

One woman, was a handful; but two,
‘God Almighty, what logical thinking man in his right mind…would dare to have two?’
Before he’d learned the hard way, he’d tried it…but never again! Impossible … unless of course they were meek, mild and beaten down to the point of killing their spirit; to do such a thing, never even occurred to him.

There was something inhumanely evil about actually hitting a woman, and no matter what, he could never bring himself to do so. Besides, the only women that turned him
on were the ones full of spit and fire…with a flare of temper now and then, a little bite. For that preference, he had certainly paid dearly. Jessie and Maria had been in constant battle over him. When in fact, concerning Maria… there had been no reason for it. At first, he had mistaken her for the meek and mild type. Admiring her from afar, now and again, teasing and taunting her to ignite what fire there was in her…but she never took the bait. So, at first, he ignored her, unless that is, he had gotten a little drink in him, then he sought her out, igniting Jessie’s jealousy.

Jessie had been his first; a strong, lithe, almost muscular, dark, black woman, beautiful beyond words with a panther like carriage and grace.

Skin the color of darkest mahogany, gleaming smooth and shiny when covered in sweat. There was no fat found on her body, so athletic and lean, like a cat, she prowled. Ever watchful – and cunning in her seductive attack, she was faithful to no one, yet looked down her nose at the whores. Jessie chose the man she would be with, no man yet would she allow claim over her, as his alone.

For some reason, she had chosen Miguel. He had been younger than her 24 years when she first approached him. Fifteen at the time, bursting with hormones and needs, and she knew it, made sport of it; laughed as she touched him, flashing a small, firm, dark breast at him before the others, so they could all laugh at his blushing. Because he was so young and inexperienced, it was easy to seduce him…to place him under her spell. She knew she could dominate him...control him…make him pant like a lovesick puppy. She enjoyed toying with him. Slyly distracting him from whatever duties Ephraim set him to. Leading him on and luring him with his own curiosity to sneak and watch her bathing naked. At the time, it was a turn on for her. She was one who enjoyed having a certain power over her men; and Miguel was a distraction from her boredom. Having teased, inflaming him enough… the moment was ripe…she seduced him. Amazed at the pleasure she found with him, because he was such a willing pupil; she allowed him too much of her. To her utter horror, she fell pregnant with his child.

Unsure of how to rid herself of it without bringing harm to herself, she was forced to carry it full term. The whores who knew how to rid themselves of unwanted babies…laughed at her. None willing to help her be rid of it. By now, Mike was sixteen, and upon hearing about it, he fought with her tooth and nail – demanding that she carry it to full term. During that time, she mentally abused him…always threatening to get rid of it.

What kept her
from actually following through was the idea that she might inadvertently kill herself. It was not unheard of for a woman to bleed to death, writhing in agony from a botched attempt to destroy a babe within her, only to die as well.

Her own life meant too much to her to risk the possibility.

Once she came to be with child by him; she no longer desired his touch. She spurned every attempt he made to be with her. Screaming her hatred of Miguel she gave birth, immediately rejecting the child; she insisted, "Do not pass it to me! Take it to him, what kind of mother would I make the child!? Get it from my sight!”

Miguel did not understand this; and went back to her with the newborn babe, wailing from hunger. Esteban, his oldest, holding him; he demanded that she feed him. “Get someone else to feed it! I will not be saddled with it!” She spat, and turned from him.

Taking pity on the child, a Spanish woman still nursing one of her own took his son to her breasts. Yet, there was something about Jessie that made Miguel weak, feeling he needed to have her again. Over several weeks, he tried again to lay with her… but she refused him.

“
You’ll not have me fat bellied again! All the time I was with Ephraim…not once, did he set his seed, nor any other who has had me…but you! I want no part of you!”

Then Maria entered the picture; capturing his attention, pulling his longing gazes from Jessie to her. Suddenly Jessie turned aggressive towards him. Arguing with him, punching and slapping him. Drawing him back to her once again; but demanding that he not spend himself within her. Truth was, she was risking much with the virile young Miguel; she really did not want him, but neither did she want this new young Mexican girl to have him.

Coming back to the present, he turned off the memory of it all.

That entire sordid incident was in the past. She was finally gone with Samuel, leaving Esteban behind. Not that she would have taken him anyway. Nor would he have gone. Esteban was his right hand, and his firstborn son. He was proud to have fathered him, even if it had been at the age of sixteen. His son was eleven years old now. It was such a strange fact that they had so much in common. Both of them had lost their mother at the same age; difference being, he had been taken from his…where Esteban’s had voluntarily left him.

He had stood leaning in the doorway long enough, dreading to go inside. Looking back at the large bonfire burning in the center of their hidden sanctuary; he could just leave her for now; and go join in the drinking and merry making with the others gathered there; get himself ripped before he faced the gypsy, then Maria his wife.

Squeals from women, boisterous laughter from the men who followed him filled the encampment as they played cards
; strummed their guitars, singing in Spanish and English. Such boisterousness went on most of the night within the hideout of the wanted desperados. A mix of them in residence, black, white, Mexican, Indian as well what Ephraim once referred to him as, “The Mulat”, short for mulatto.

Hope laid waiting, getting angrier and angrier.

‘
Just wait until I meet this – Jefé, this Miguel. How dare he let them bring me so far, only to say…take her away!’
She was determined to show him her full wrath! They had taken her from her family, bringing her to this Godforsaken place. While she lay steaming, she was unaware that he stood within the dwelling staring down at her. What alerted her to his presence was his dramatic sigh. She stiffened now fully aware, with a tense waiting.

“
Madre de dios! Juan, what have you gotten me into?!” Miguel raked his hands through his blonde hair.

“
Look.” “I’m going to untie you; and before I do, let us get one thing straight.” He announced walking around the abode, lighting candles. “I am tired and I am not in the mood for hostile screaming.” He continued, lighting more. “Therefore, before I cut you loose, I need you to nod that head of yours, that we will discuss your misfortune calmly.” He stood looking at her back. With the candles burning around them, he noticed how the flickering light bounced in and out of her glorious head of hair, a stunning gold.

“
I’m waiting little gypsy.” He reminded her, as he removed his many weapons.

His prisoner on the cot mumbled something moving her head. He grinned. “That is more movement than I care to see. Just a nod, otherwise, tied and gagged you shall remain.” He continued, unbuckling the belt he wore low on his waist, which held the harness to his two other pistols. Sharp thuds and scrapes sounded in the room as he laid the heavy belt with its guns across the table. He walked over to the cot, squatted there, to find that he could not resist touching her hair. It flowed so long that inches of it lay on the floor from where she was curled up facing away from him. She felt his touch and stiffened.

“
Sorry… your hair is lovely. Are you ready to give me that nod?”

It came immediately. “Thought so, remember, no hysterics. I’m willing to be fair - all I ask is that you stay calm.” He whispered. Reaching for his knife, he cut her loose.