Gypsy in Black: The Romance of Gypsy Travelers by Sarah Price Page B

the tent.  After several hours of this, s he became cramped and restless. Sahara had finally decided that a min ute outside was safe enough. Certainly Nicolae would never kno w. But as she crawled under the canvas, the heavy hand on her shoulder proved her wrong.  He would kill her for sure.  “ Nicolae , I... ”
    “ Ssh! ”   Sahara opened her eyes quickly, staring up at the man standing over her.  In the d im light from the fires, Sahara recognized the man as Emilian .  He held a long, slender finger to his lips, telling her to keep s ilent, afraid that she might draw attention to them. Behind the camp and in the darkness, t rees loomed like laughing skeletons as they reached their bony arms out.  There was a gentle breeze carrying the breath of spring.  An owl hooted in the distance and leaves rustled, c ausing Sahara to jump and whirl around, ready to face any demon that crept out of the shadows.  Emilian ease d her fright with a gentle hand as he caressed her arm.  “ You are thinking of escape , yes ? ”
    She wanted to tell him that nothing could be further from the truth.  She had no where to go and no way to get there.  But the words wouldn’t form on her lips.  Instead, s he looked at him.  In the so ft glow from the moonlight, she could barely make out his f eatures.  While they weren't as prominent as Nicolae 's, she could te ll he was equally as handsome.   But what had Nicolae said about him?  That he was no longer part of the kumpania?  It dawned on her that, just as she knew nothing about Nicolae, she knew even less about his brother.  “ Why are you shunned by your people? ”
    Emilian 's eyes hardened for a moment then, just as quickly, his anger disappeared.  “ The gypsy ways are strange to you, yes? ” When she didn't reply, he answere d her slowly.  “ To my people, I am a ghost.  They look through me, see not hing, and move around me. 
    “ Why? ”
    He avoided her question.  “ You hate the gypsies, yes? ”   He paused, waiting for her answe r. None came.  In response to her silence, Emilian gave a slight laugh .  “ I cannot imagine why you should stay .  But, S'hara, you must not escape.  You mus t not leave.  Think hard about your feelings, S'hara. Their way of life feels right, yes?   Perhaps what is strange is not so strange after all. ”
    For a moment, she wanted to lash out that the gypsy way of life would never feel right.  Bu t it would have been a lie.  As strange as the gypsies were and as frigh tening as the experience was, Sahara had, indeed, felt as though she belonged with the gypsies.  More so than she had w ith her father.  “ Everything is too strange for me to think about my feelings, ” she lied.  Then, she asked, “ You weren't at the feast last night. ”   She noticed the tension in his face. 
    Slowly, he answered.  “ No, I was not at the slava. ”
    “ Why not? ”
    Emilian stared down at her, h is eyes sad and lonely.  “ I had no business at the slava. And you have no business thinking about escape, S’hara.  It is dangerous and you don’t belong out there. ”
    “I don’t belong here, either!”
    In the shadows from the night, she could see a smile cross his face.  “Ah, S’hara.  Perhaps you actually do.”
    “ Emilian ... ”
    He turned his back to her.  “ We go back before Nicolae looks for you, S’hara . ”
    The thought of Nicolae going into the tent sent a chill down her spine.  Swallowing her fears, Sahara allowed Emilian to lift the back of the tent f or Sahara .   She started to crawl under and, just briefly, thought that s he heard him take one step away from the tent but his departure was otherwise silent.  Sighing, Sah ara took several cautious steps toward the center of the tent and reached for the lantern.  The matches fell out from the bott om of the lantern's stand.  She bent down, feeling the ground f or them.  After she had lit the lantern, she hung it back up.  
    He r eyes