Stolen Women and Robbed Heads

Chapter 7: Stolen Women and Robbed Heads
Emmeline froze.
Daryl was bowing to the crowd which had gathered 'round , cheering and applauding.
'Where is Esperanza?' Emmeline was on the alert and wished only to leave. Now.
Jose' and Josephina shook their heads, both still staring at the mystery musician in awe. Em gathered her skirts and bending low,tried to exit through the crowd without being seen, seeking Esperanza.
Where was she?! Em sought her mentor in the firelight about the gypsy camp, but neither Esperanza or Carlos seemed to be handy. She called, 'Espranza? Carlos?' as she searched the campsites, to no avail. Suddenly, from behind a wagon, a tall figure stepped into her path.
'Emmeline.' It was Daryl!
Em halted, momentarily paralyzed.
'You do recognize me, do you not?' He asked, stepping closer. Em retreated a pace. 'You needn't fear me, you know...' Daryl came closer, a half-smile upon his lips,that same lopsided crooked grin of Jack's...but altogether sinister coming from Daryl alone in the pale moonlight. 'I mean you no harm, Emmeline. I wish to help you.'
'Why are you here?' she managed to speak at last.
'To find you, of course.'Daryl stepped closer. 'I wish to speak with you.'Em looked about her. Where was Esperanza? Daryl noted her hunted look. 'Truly, you've nothing to fear from me, Emmeline! I don't know what Jack may have told you, but I assure you...' he inched closer, holding out a hand toward her. She backed up against a wagon. 'Do you have the artefact with you?' Daryl asked.
'So that's it! You want the artefact! No, I don't have it.'
His gaze narrowed, looking grim. 'Where is it?' he asked softly.
'It is safe.'
Daryl sighed. 'Emmeline, we need to speak together, privately...' he reached out toward her, taking her arm.
'Esperanza!' Emmeline yelled, 'Carlo--' Daryl's hand clamped tightly over her mouth, as he put his other arm about her, pinning her arms and clasping her against him. 'No need for that. We're leaving now. Come.' He dragged her with him behind the wagon. 'Do not yell. You're not going to be hurt. I hoped you would listen reasonably, but, if you insist...' He released her a moment only to whip cuffs about her wrists in a flash, and then taking off his kerchief, tied it about her mouth. 'There. And we're off,' he said, leading her into the brush where he had his large black horse tied. 'Up you go,' he said, pushing her into the stirrup and saddle, and getting on behind her, gave heels to his horse and they were galloping off and up--back into the hills above the camp.
                        . . . . .
How could this be happening? Emmeline couldn't believe it. She must be cider-addled. How could she have allowed...but, she certainly wasn't expecting Daryl. If it had been some stranger, she would have fought like a wildcat. But, here was Jack's uncle...or father...and looking so like Jack. She'd been bamboozled.
And now they were flying over the hilltops, back toward the Enchanted Village. Would that be Villa Encantata?
Oh, goddess...diosa, what now? Em's head spun with mad fancies. Daryl wanted the artefact. Em felt curiously protective of it...it had power obviously. And it was her father's. Now hers. When would someone miss her from the gypsy camp?  On and on they galloped.
They were approaching the winding wooded canyons and were coming closer the the village. Daryl's big gelding snorted with each hard breath, and they had to slow up somewhat, the road was rougher and twisted about upon itself .
Daryl pulled up the black and uncorked his canteen. He sighed, pulling the cloth gag from Em's mouth at last.
She spat.
'Water?' he asked, and not waiting for an answer, tipped it gently to her lips. Em drank, abit. Daryl then drank and capped it. Saying not another word, he
kicked the horse into a slow canter, leaving her mouth free. No one was about this far up over the hills and far away.
The moon was retreating from high above and heading back around the planet when they entered the strange peace of the village and Em knew then that indeed Daryl knew exactly where to go and which adobe was Esperanza's. He pulled up before the door, dismounted, then helped Emmeline off, stiff and sore from the mad ride, 'He needs water,' He turned to her, unlocking the cuffs.
She gazed hard at him, turned on her heel and went to
the trough in back for a bucket. What now...could she get to a knife at least? There were nice sharp kitchen knives, and a cleaver as well as axe. Em's berserker
Valkyries began to awaken within as she dipped to fill the bucket. She'd be best with a knife she decided, if she could get close enough... Still not at her strongest for the axe. Too bad, it was a nice double-blade labyris. Fit for a goddess, or amazon, but not Em just now; recuping still and full of cider. And jack.
She straightened and splashed some water on her face, then strode slowly back to where horse and rider awaited. She wasn't about to begrudge the poor beast his well-deserved cool relief. He certainly couldn't help it if his master was...what, really? She wondered. Was a spirit, alive or dead? Stuck between zones? He certainly seemed warm and fleshy enough. A hard man, like stone he seemed as well. Not one to show his hand.
She had to be careful about showing hers. Setting down the water before the thirsty animal who guzzled, she straightened. 'Now what.'
'Easy now...'he pulled his horse's head up, which drizzled streams of water from his mouth as he jerked his head, wanting more,'Not so much at once. So greedy...' he looked at Em with his hard grey eyes that reflected the moon like Jack's, giving him the cold gaze of a statue. 'Slowly...' he let him drink once more.
Emmeline simply turned on her heel and went inside. To find the knives...
Daryl let her go while he tied up the black, then followed her within.Ducking under the woven blanket which served as door, he regarded Em as she spun about standing at the kitchen counter.
Not altogether a fool, nor thinking that Emmeline was,
Daryl eyed the humble adobe abode. 'Home sweet home,' he said, and entering, stood before the fireplace. 'Would you care for a fire?' He surprised her by asking, staring at the open fire pit.
'With blue flames?' Emmeline shot back.
He smiled then. 'If you like,'looking too much like Jack in the moonlight. Only a heavier, sadder Jack, it seemed. Jack in afew more years perhaps, she suddenly intuited.
'Do as you wilt. You certainly have thus far.' Her voice carried enough vitriol to wither iron.
Daryl spoke not a word but went straight to his work.
He first took matches from his inside pocket and struck one with his thumbnail, an odd method which also was one of Jack's tricks. Rather more mundane than Yeats's
so-called 'sulphurless fire'...
Daryl lit a candle he found upon the mantle, then crouched before the firepit and began to place kindling about, cracking a stick here and there. Emmeline began to slowly creep closer, now eyeing the coal shovel. If she could just bash him over the head, it'd be preferable to using a knife...
Daryl sighed, and looked her way. 'Squeamish about a little stabbing, my dear?'
Em stopped dead. Had he read her mind? The bastard.
'Messier, that's all.'she replied, adding:'Cabrone.'  to herself, her voice cold.
Daryl smiled his sad half-smile and lit the kindling.
He stood watching the fire catch and do a slow burn.
Glancing her way, he motioned her closer.
'Time for a fireside chat,' he said.
Emmeline eyed Daryl and stood her ground. 'Why? What  would I possibly have to say to my abductor?' Em was incensed. Like father like son, she couldn't help but think.
Daryl lowered himself with serpentine grace upon the sheepskins before the fireplace and patted the space beside him. 'Sit.'
Despite her best instincts, Em found herself approaching. She kept the long kitchen knife hidden in the fold of he skirt and sat some ways from Daryl, but if he reached for her, she would be ready. Blade up, in the guts, and a quick thrust upward, severing what all she could put muscle behind.
Daryl regarded her then with brows raised, but said nothing. He looked down and shook his head. 'I am not your enemy, despite how this looks.'
'Somehow I'd rather not trust you, Mr. Van Horn.' Em sat straight with her legs under her, ready to spring.
He looked at her narrowly. 'The artefact. It's here. Where?'
Em said nothing. The two of them stared at one another for some minutes, neither flinching. At last, Em asked,'Why do you want it?'
'If I told you, you wouldn't believe me.'He held her gaze.'We've no time. I'd rather you give it willingly.
But, needs must...'
'...when the devil drives? Or sits across from one?' Em finished for him.
A short sigh, and Daryl reached over and took the knife from Em's oddly willing hand.
'I dislike doing this,' he said, stashing the knife behind a box on the mantle as he stood, and taking Em's hand, pulled her up to stand beside him. Holding both her hands tightly,'Now. The artefact,' he commanded.
Emmeline's brow creased in consternation as she found herself released. She headed to a large chest that was hidden under a pile of blankets in the corner. She couldn't believe that her body was moving to get the artefact despite her mind screaming at her to do anything but. She rummaged about within the chest and brought out the silk swathe she had wrapped about the artefact.
She turned, and slowly, painfully walked to Daryl. She handed the silk oblong package to him. 'I despise you,'she managed to say, her voice shaking.
Daryl was staring at the artefact. 'Join the club,' he muttered darkly, as he unwrapped the silk, finding the cold white ovoid within. 'Ahh...' he breathed. 'Good.
Here, take the artefact.' He returned it.'And take my hand, now we can go.' Em obeyed, and without so much as a flash of light, the two of them disappeared.
The flames in the fireplace burned a bright blue, then black, and died, leaving only a wisp of smoke in their wake.
                     . . . . .
Yeats sat together with Thelene resting her head upon his shoulder as they gazed out across the balcony overlooking the Mavrodaphne-dark sea below. Suddenly Thelene drew apart from him, startled.
'Something...there's...something's wrong,'she stammered, unlike her usual calm self.
'...a disturbance in the force...'Yeats was half-dozing still.
Thelene stood and looked at him. 'No jokes, Shane, please!'
Just then, Anara came running up the steps toward them.
'Thelene! It's Emmeline! She's gone!'
.
Thelene took her pupil's hands. 'What's happened?' Yeats was on his feet and wide awake now.
'I don't know!' Anara looked panicked.'I simply can't feel her any longer!'
'For how long now?' her teacher asked gravely.
'Only moments. She seemed safe enough, not far from The Village. Then...all went dark. It's as though she is...
in a black box.'
'She lives?'Yeats asked quietly.
'Oh yes.'Anara looked confused. 'But, I don't know, something...something is blocking me. Blocking us, our connection. I can't find her!' She looked, eyes wide at Thelene. 'She's lost to us!'
Yeats and Thelene regarded one another. He put an arm about Anara, 'We shall find her. You believe she is well?' The girl nodded. 'Then don't despair. Thelene...' he looked to his mate, as he helped Anara sit upon their vacated bench. They repaired to a corner alone. 'What do you think?' Thelene asked.
'Not what, but possibly, who.' Yeats had a notion.
'I'll leave this to you then. For the time being. Take whomever you can trust. But bring her back, Shane. You know she could tip the balance in this.'
Shane took Thelene in a close embrace and kissed her hair. 'I'll be going then. Keep me apprised on your end,' he nodded at Anara.
'Stay safe, beloved,'whispered Thelene as Yeats winked out like a light gone dark.

                     . . . . . .
Morning dawned bright and beautiful back in Northern California. Summer here came early, and as Jack stepped out onto the porch he knew it would be a hot day soon...warming up already. He'd brought his coffee and guitar outside with him and sat in one of the wicker chairs and taking a sip, began to strum. Alice nosed open the screen door and surprisingly joined him in the chair beside his.
'Well, Alice Bear Warrior, how are you this fine morning?' Jack enquired of his feline companion. Alice was usually a one-man cat and didn't favor Jack with her company. She seemed easy enough now however and curled up for a mid-morning nap. Well, maybe Jack felt easier within himself and it showed.
'Should write a song for you, little cat with big heart,'Jack mused as he studied the sky and breathed in the fresh morning air. For too long he hadn't noticed much around him, being so self-absorbed. He grimaced.
Enough of that. Time was a-wastin'...he sighed and put the guitar strap over his shoulder. He'd work on Alice's song later. He needed to talk to Aleister, if they were to See A Man About A Dog today. Meanwhile...Jack strummed an intro and sang an old Peter Rowan song:
'Panama Red! Panama Red...
On his white horse Mescalito,
He comes breezin' through town,
He'll steal your woman,
Then he'll rob your head...'
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