Gene of Isis

Chavi smiled. ‘The goddess will bless you for your consideration.’ She left me to stew in my disappointment.

Devere monopolised my thoughts following my talk with Chavi. I did not return to camp, but had taken a seat to watch the sunset, the gulf speckled with ships travelling to and from the nearby port.

I was considering that it might be better for all involved if I just booked myself on a boat leaving Marseilles and cover the rest of the distance to Cairo by sea. I had never travelled by ship over a long distance before, and so I had hoped to keep that part of the voyage as short as possible. But with what I was obliged to tell Cingar, I imagined that our relationship might be a little awkward and travelling together more of a strain than it had been to date.

The view was awe-inspiring and yet it could not lift the heaviness of my heart. As I considered that perhaps somehow Devere might be blameless in all this and that I could have harshly misjudged him, I wept. Then the memory that I had perceived from Devere’s mind the night I left him stopped the flow of tears.

The man I had seen threaten Lord Hereford was standing over my husband saying, ‘Keep her safe, Devere. Learn about her, learn from her and keep me posted. If you can please this woman, you will become a very powerful man indeed. And, with any luck, you’ll have many, many adept offspring.’

‘You look like you could use this.’

I discovered Cingar was standing beside me, holding out a goblet of wine. ‘I don’t drink,’ I declined, as I had every other time wine had been on offer.

‘Sometimes it is best.’ Cingar sat, and offered it to me again.

I felt as bad as ever I had and I knew a good cup of hot broth would serve me better. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, I accepted the goblet from him and took a sip. The red fluid warmed my frosty mood a little and I managed to smile.

‘My grandmother has said something to upset you?’ Cingar suggested—I assumed he’d seen us talking.

I shook my head, afraid to speak, lest I dissolve into tears again. Another sip of wine calmed my erratic emotions and I found my voice. ‘I have a confession to make.’

‘To me?’ Cingar was surprised and unsure.

‘My real name is Mrs Ashlee Devere.’

‘You’re married!’ I heard the devastation in his voice, and yet he had a glimmer of hope that perhaps my husband was deceased. ‘Where is your husband now?’

‘In hot pursuit of us, most likely,’ I said in all truthfulness. ‘The Duc de Guise promised to stall him in Orleans as long as he could, but my husband will not be deceived long.’

‘Why—’

‘Am I running from him?’ I anticipated the captain’s query. ‘Because he lied to me about something very important. Chavi seems to think I have judged him too harshly.’

‘Hmmm…’ Cingar was noncommittal, not wanting to say that his grandmother was seldom wrong in her soothsaying. ‘Do you love this man?’ The captain was ready to run off and slay him if I answered in the negative!

‘I was falling deeply in love with him before I discovered his deceit. My doubt is more along the lines of, does he really love me?’ I was annoyed when my tears began flowing. I never openly wept in front of anyone, and especially not over a man.

The captain hugged me comfortingly—never mind his own feelings that had just been crushed by my announcement.

I brushed away my tears and took a few more sips of wine. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth sooner. I had fancied that you might cast Devere out of my heart…I had no idea that such a scenario would see you banished by your people.’ I looked at the captain who nodded, his expression more serious than usual.

‘I was ready to trade my position for a life of travel with you. We all have our fantasies, and a desire to escape a mapped-out life.’ Cingar waved away his dream and my deception. Clearly he knew as well as I did that our romance could never happen, and perhaps he was even a little relieved to have been thwarted. ‘But reality has caught up with us, it seems.’ He kissed my forehead and in those last shadows of daylight we savoured a hug that would never amount to anything more than the comfort between good friends.

‘I feel certain that Chavi has picked you a fine wife.’ I attempted to fill the hole that had erupted in my heart by drinking the remaining wine in my goblet.

The captain took a deep breath and then, resigning himself to hope for the best, he released it. ‘Soon we will both be forced to confront the relationship we have been avoiding.’

‘But not tonight,’ I declared with relief.

‘No…tonight we are free!’ Cingar sprang to his feet. ‘Let us eat, drink and dance away our cares.’ He then offered me a hand, to help me up, which I accepted and accompanied him back toward the wonderful smells of food cooking.

It was impossible not to notice that the gypsy camp had doubled in size. When we returned to camp there were twice as many people, caravans and commotion than before.

‘What has happened?’ I asked of the captain.

‘It looks as if my in-laws might have arrived.’ Cingar squeezed my hand for strength and then let it go before we got too close to the camp. ‘So much for being free this evening.’

‘Then your bride is also here!’ I ribbed Cingar by sounding excited and curious.

‘Perhaps.’ He seemed unready to face that possibility. ‘What if I hate her?’ He pulled up short, savouring his last opportunity to avoid this whole affair.

‘The way I see it…if Chavi is as good a psychic as I credit her to be, then surely neither of us has anything to