Over the next few days, Amanda was a frequent visitor at the gypsy camp and Rosalind Galati welcomed her each morning with the latest antics of Sheba, the name they'd bestowed upon the furriest member of the family. Then she and Carlo would traipse off into the woods, swords in hand, to practice and play.

Once alone, Carlo proved to be a very good teacher. It seemed that he and his uncle's family, among their other skills, had also bartered for food by amusing the townships in which they traveled with their music, juggling and acrobatics. Amanda had never seen a human being who could move so fluidly as her companion.

For Carlo's part, he was continually impressed with the quick study Amanda turned out to be. All he had to do was show her his moves a couple of times and she had the basics. It was just a matter of practice before she would be fairly good at the tumbles, leaps and dodges he was teaching her.

On their fourth day together, the weather had threatened rain and Amanda rode into the camp with her summer-weight cloak draped jauntily around her shoulders. She wore her usual trews and jerkin, but the outer garment added a cavalier flavor to her appearance and Carlo and his brothers whistled approvingly as she hopped down from her mount. The flutter of the material in the brisk wind from the north gave Carlo an idea for today's lesson.

When Amanda began to unhook the fastening of her cloak, Carlo stopped her with a hand and indicated that she should keep it on. He himself had retrieved his own cloak from the wagon on their way to the woods. While the two sparred and played around while warming up, Carlo's moves took a serious turn and before Amanda was aware of it, she seemed to be fighting for her life. The constriction of the cloak, which kept wrapping itself around her arms, didn't help. It was purely by accident that she discovered the new maneuver Carlo had set out to show her. After parrying a particularly vicious attack she had spun around to renew her own offensive. A gust of wind entombed her arms to her side with the pliant cloth of her cloak, effectively rendering her immobile. In a panic, Amanda yanked at the material until the fastener had been ripped at her throat, releasing her arms to block Carlo's advancing blow. As her right arm whipped up to block with her sword, her left arm instinctively raised to shield her face, bring her cloak up to conceal her body and blow in the face of her opponent. Before they knew it, both figures where on the ground, entangled in the fabric and Carlo was laughing.

"I didn't even need to show you that, Amanda. See what you can do when your life depends on it?"

At first Amanda wasn't sure what he was talking about and was just recovering from his play-turned-serious attack. She sat on her haunches, blinked and realized what had happened. A grin spread across her face which said plainly that she was inordinately pleased with herself.

"Yes, I was good wasn't I?" And from then on their practice took a slight turn. Amanda made him come at her over and over again as she maneuvered him around to her best advantage, using the cloak in as many ways as she could imagine. It was obvious this was her favorite strategy so far.

When the two immortals were gasping for breath and weighted with leaden arms from holding their swords for hours, they collapsed on her cloak beneath the darkening sky. They'd heard thunder in the distance for the past half hour and it was pretty obvious the bottom was about to fall out. But they were too tired and too pleased with themselves to worry about that. Besides, they knew they wouldn't get sick from the elements. They were young and they were immortal and the rest of the world be damned.

As the rain began pelting them, they turned to face each other, each raising an arm for protection against the wet assault. Deep, dark eyes met in silent communication and Carlo rolled onto Amanda, pinning her arms between them, afraid she would fight off this different kind of onslaught. Amanda wriggled her arms free and ran them over the wet material of Carlo's shirt, digging her nails into his back through the cloth. The storm grew in intensity, but both beings were oblivious to the lightening and thunder which shook the earth beneath them. They didn't know it was caused by something other than the storm raging inside. Water dripped onto Amanda's face from Carlo's hair and he followed the driblets with his tongue, across her cheek and below the collar of her shirt He opened the lacings of her tunic, revealing the soaked fabric beneath, her nipples visible as if there were no covering at all. His head dipped lower and took one of the hardened nubs in his mouth. He sucked through her shirt, pulling gently with his teeth until he realized her embraces were becoming more like struggles.

"Don't make me stop, cara. You are wild, like these woods and you make me feel as if the storm outside is but a shadow of what you and I can make together." He began fiddling with her pants and Amanda's decision was made.

"Please stop, Carlo. You don't understand. I don't...I haven't..." How could she explain her reluctance to betray what she had with Rebecca, not to mention how difficult it still was to be with a man.

"What is it? What can I do?" Carlo was truly confused. He was sure she shared his emotions of the last little while. But, he also respected her and slowly raised himself as he slid beside her on the now soaked cloak.

"I just don't think I'm ready to do this with you and I'd really like it if we could just be friends." He noticed she was chewing her bottom lip in a most adorable fashion and he had to stop himself from kissing the object of her nibbles.

"It's Rebecca, isn't it?" he asked tenderly. Of a sudden the need to protect this sometimes willful, sometimes innocent woman was stronger than the need of a moment ago. It seemed unnatural for her to be so unsure of herself. Truly she was a dichotomy of nature.

"Um, uh, yes." How much was she going to have to tell him, she wondered. It was with relief that she realized he wasn't going to push the issue as he got up and began straightening his clothes and walked over to where his sword had been laying on his own cloak.

"Amanda, in the week I have known you, you have come to mean much to me. You are not only the first immortal I've met who didn't want my head, but you seem to have captured my heart. I won't ever make you do anything you don't wish to do and I'll always be here for you should you need me."

Amanda smiled her thanks and brought herself up, mimicking his motions of adjusting her clothing and retrieving her sword. She wrinkled her nose as she realized the work she would have to put into drying and cleaning her weapon tonight after its recent bath.

So, it was with another layer added to their relationship that the two returned to camp and Amanda made her farewells to his family as they began emerging from the shelter of the wagons now that the summer storm had subsided.

"I don't think I'll be able to come back before you leave, Josef," she addressed Carlo's father. "I've neglected things at home the last few days to spend time with Carlo and enjoy his tutelage. But, I can't hide from the work forever," she laughed to prevent the tears from spilling over when she thought about the warmth and hospitality shown her by the Galati's. Never again would she think badly of the gypsies who camped on Rebecca's land and never would she forget these kind people who had become a second family to her.

"You are always welcome, Miss Amanda," Josef bowed over her extended hand, his lips barely brushing the skin. His twinkling eyes showed that even an old gypsy like himself could appreciate her beauty. Rosalind elbowed him playfully and Amanda rode over to where Carlo was standing alone as the they waved their good-byes.

"Will I see you again before we leave?" he asked, holding his hand up to shade his eyes from the fickle sun which had decided to follow the heels of the earlier outburst. Amanda looked down at his dark features and reached out to firmly grasp the hand that wasn't busy.

"I hope so, but I think you'll have to come to the house. I really have neglected my lessons...and Rebecca for too long. You know I need to learn all I can if I'm going to play the part of a lady for the next few centuries." They both laughed and the tension was broken. But Amanda didn't see the sadness that Carlo was determined not to let show as she turned her horse westward toward home.

************************************

The caravan moved on the next week, but not before Carlo paid one more visit to the ladies of Caer Wydyr. The day before they departed, the gypsies sent him to the manor with a special thank you gift. When Rebecca's maid opened the door, Carlo could see Rebecca and Amanda just entering the main hall, obviously readying for a practice session.

"Good morning, Carlo. You're just in time to come watch, or join in if you wish," Amanda was gracious and all smiles. Last week the young Romany man would've had trouble reconciling the self-assured woman before him with the spoiled child of his previous visit. But, during the time they had spent together, he'd discovered several facets to the young immortal's personality...many of them in direct opposition to each other. Amanda obviously wished to continue acting as if nothing had happened between them, so he would too.

The three sword-bearing figures ascended to the roof, with Carlo carrying the small parcel with which he had been charged to deliver. Unlike their last practice session, the day was sunny and mild for late Spring, making cloaks unnecessary. Rebecca and Amanda went through their paces, with the elder turning to Carlo when she felt they had warmed up sufficiently.

"Would you care to spar with me?" she asked.

"Yes, M'lady, but please go easy on me" he responded with a lop-sided grin, walking toward the practice area.

"Please, Carlo, call me Rebecca."

"Ok, Rebecca. Permit me to take it slow at first, as I haven't had the warm-up from which you've benefited."

Carlo moved with an easy grace and Rebecca doubted that he needed to take it easy at all. This man was like a dancer, and little wonder, as the Romany were known for their fluid movements about the campfire when the whiskey flowed and music haunted the night. Therefore, she was ready when he made his move. The dark man moved quickly to the right, sword flying low as he attempted to get below Rebecca's defenses. She jumped back, flicking her own blade upward, catching his hilt and flinging his arm backward quicker than he had expected. With little effort Rebecca was able to disarm him, as the awkward position of his arm gave him little leverage to push her away. Her opponent cast a shamed look downward and retrieved his sword.

"Don't worry, Carlo. She gets me with that one all the time," Amanda laughed. She walked over and flung her arm around his shoulders. "Wanna try someone you think you can beat?" The challenge was implicit.

Carlo looked at her curiously, wondering why she would brag about such a fact, not sure at all he could beat her anymore.

"Let me catch my breath a minute and I'll be right with you," he said.

The moment Carlo raised his sword against Amanda he knew something was different. The fight lasted all of two minutes as Amanda feinted and dodged his blade while whipping her rapier through the air with lightning speed and cunning. It was too late when Carlo realized that the young woman had maneuvered him around to the same position she'd held just one week ago. From her height above him, Amanda looked down with something in her eyes he couldn't quite read. By the time he had approached her perch atop the parapet, he was slicing empty air. With a sense of deja vu, he felt the sting of a sharp blade across his shoulder blades as he whirled around to face his opponent.

The look on his face was priceless as far as Amanda was concerned, and well worth the countless hours she had put into practice over the last few days.

"What's the matter? Gone mute?" she teased.

There was a moment of intense silence when she thought he wouldn't see the humor in the situation and renew the attack. Amanda was just preparing to take the offensive again when a laugh erupted, accompanied by a huge grin across his handsome features and both parties lowered their swords. Rebecca walked toward the pair who were now laughing loudly.

"She's been practicing that maneuver ever since you left last week, Carlo," Rebecca chuckled. "And about wore me out in the process. I guess you were good for her after all."

"Amanda, that was beautiful. Are you sure you aren't half Romany?" And the small group returned to the salon for a well deserved refreshment.

Cheese, fruit and bread were set out on the sideboard when they entered the room, warmed by a small fire. No matter what time of year it was in England, a fire was never amiss. Each served themselves and poured generous portions of the golden mead into wooden mugs. It wasn't until they had been discussing Amanda's new talents for several minutes that Carlo remembered the purpose of his visit.

"Oh, I almost forgot. My father sends this to you on behalf of the whole camp. He wishes me to convey his heartfelt thanks for your hospitality and says you will be remembered forever in Romany history as a friend and benefactor."

With the end of his well rehearsed speech, Carlo extended his hand in which he held a large clay decanter. Rebecca accepted the gift, but Carlo could tell by the creases in her forehead that she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do with it.

"Allow me." And he took back the vial and opened it. "Smell," he instructed. "This is the essence of the Romany tribe. It is a liquor made from the fruit of a tree only my people know about." Rebecca leaned forward to sniff the now open container and Carlo smiled as her face lit up.

"Why it smells like..." she struggled for the right words and realized it was futile.

"There's no word for it in your language, Rebecca. But, I will tell you that if a gypsy favors you with a portion of his supply, you are special indeed." The women knew he was teasing, but couldn't help feeling honored by the gesture.

Rebecca again took the decanter in her hands, this time more reverently. She didn't know what to say to this gift, which she felt meant a great deal.

"Thank you and please thank your family, Carlo. You will always be welcome on Caer Wydyr...as long as it is mine."

Amanda had sat silently through the exchange, watching Carlo with a strange gleam in her dark eyes. For the first time, she was attracted to a man for no reason other than the desire for closeness and friendship, and it was hard to put the images of their last time together from her mind. Amanda had done few things in her life without an ulterior motive and realized another plateau had been reached in her maturity of mind and spirit.

Rebecca looked up to see her young student chewing her bottom lip again. She didn't have to be a mind reader to know what was going on behind those liquid doe eyes. She knew Amanda well, therefore, she also knew the dilemma she would be facing even before Amanda had reached it. She saw the moment it happened. The eyes widened, she bit down on the lip which, until know, she had only been worrying with white, even teeth. A secret smile crossed Rebecca's face. This one, Amanda would have to figure out on her own. There were some things in which a teacher could not instruct.

Amanda was torn. She loved Rebecca dearly...as no one she had ever known. For once she was safe and happy, looking forward to life rather than dreading what catastrophe the fates would throw at her next. Why'd she want to be with Carlo, then? A glance a Rebecca told her that her mentor knew perfectly well what was going on in her head. She could also see that there would be no help forthcoming from that quarter. Amanda had made it a point to avoid all discussion of their visits, except to tell Rebecca of the moves he was showing her during their practice sessions. She really hadn't wanted her mentor to know the other moves he had happily taught her.

The exchange between teacher and pupil took seconds, but the tension of the moment was not lost on Carlo. He felt the same attraction to the young immortal that they had shared in the rain. As a matter of fact, he planned to ask her to join him at the camp for the last night of his family's visit. Tomorrow they would move South, back to the warmth of the sun and other welcoming gypsy caravans. They would finish the summer in England and France and by fall would once again be working their trade in Spain.

But the silent communication between the two women gave him pause. He hesitated to ask Amanda to the party now, but in the blink of an eye, it were as if he had imagined it all. Amanda was smiling and Rebecca was examining the vial, fingering the delicate design which had been etched into the clay before firing. She got up and placed the vessel on the mantel and turned to ask Carlo if he would join them for dinner.

"No, M'Lady. I must decline your kind offer, as much as the delicious smells coming from your kitchen may tempt me. It's our last night and there is much preparation yet to be done. However, afterward, it is traditional to have a fiesta before departing the lands of a gracious host. Would you honor us with your presence?"

There was never any doubt in Rebecca's mind that Amanda should go. She herself declined Carlo's offer, but insisted that her student represent their home in her stead. Amanda's face brightened and then she remembered why she'd been avoiding the camp since her last visit. But, it would be most ungracious to refuse when pressed by Rebecca and she needed little encouragement to accept.

*************************************

The camp was lit by a dozen small fires and a larger one in the center. The mood was festive and there was much activity as Amanda rode into the clearing. Carlo immediately separated himself from the group of young men with whom he'd been joking and met the approaching figure.

"You are just in time, cara." Carlo addressed Amanda familiarly. Away from the eyes of her instructor and at home in his own surroundings, the gypsy was once more comfortable and assured.

"So when does the party start?" Amanda teased as she jumped down from her horse.

She was dressed in her usual attire and she knew quite well the figure she cut as Carlo made no effort to hide the direction in which his eyes were headed. Her long legs were wrapped snugly in the soft leather trews, as was the rest of her figure in the clinging tunic. The sleeves and collar of a billowy white shirt of soft linen showed from underneath.

The festivities began almost immediately, as if they were awaiting the arrival of their guest of honor before starting the music and letting food and wine flow freely. Amanda was soon caught up in the air of excitement which always accompanied the gypsy camp. She almost envied them their lifestyle, with the freedom to pick up and leave when the mood struck them, going wherever the winds may blow their small caravan. But, she knew that her life was with Rebecca, at least for now, and with her knack for putting things away which she did not want to think of, Amanda's mood lightened to match that of her hosts.

The other women were shy around her at first. They were a private people who didn't often let strangers within their midst. But the familiarity Carlo and his parents were exhibiting and Amanda's natural friendliness soon won them over and it wasn't long before they were showing her the steps to the wild dance currently being played by the musicians.

Amanda was breathless when she returned to the log which she had shared with Carlo. Her face was flushed, from the heat of the fire and not a little by the freely flowing wine. She clapped enthusiastically to the music and the smile she turned on Carlo almost took his breath away. It was now or never.

"You look warm, Amanda. Do you want to take a walk away from the fire for a few minutes to cool off?" The question was perfectly innocent, as was the look on Carlo's face. Amanda was not fooled.

"Sure, why not?"

The two figures disappeared into the shadows as they left the confines of the camp and walked toward the nearby wood. Just as they left the clearing, Amanda stopped and leaned against a large, old tree which had inhabited the land for longer than Caer Wydyr had been around. Taking a deep breath she told Carlo exactly how things were between the two of them.

"Carlo, I know you hoped that things would go further between us tonight." She waited to see how he would react to her words. Only silence met her in the darkness and she couldn't see his face clearly, so she proceeded.

"I hadn't had the most normal of lives up to the time of my mortal death...not that it's exactly normal now," she smiled. "As you seemed to have surmised that first time I came out here, I was a street rat with no scruples, few morals and a very good habit of stealing what I needed to survive." Amanda laughed a little at this description of her old self.

"When Rebecca took me in, I didn't trust her any more than the rest of the world, but she's shown me how life can be with love and security. She's more than my teacher and I want you to know that." She was sounding more sure of herself and her words now.

"Words can't express what Rebecca has come to mean to me. At least no words that I know yet." Another small chuckle at her own ignorance. "I don't know what would have happened to me and I don't even want to think about it now, but I do know that because of her I have a chance at becoming the person I never knew even existed inside me. She accepts me, yet makes me want to improve myself. She gives of herself, her home and all she has, and asks little in return. Only that I have the will to learn and.... to be her friend...and maybe more." She stopped now, giving Carlo a chance to ask any questions her speech may have conjured.

"I think I understand what you're saying Amanda, but why are you telling me this?"

"I want you to know why I'm not going to sleep with you tonight...as much as I may want to. Yes, I'm attracted to you...we both know that. But everything is still too new and I'm still too new." She hesitated, knowing that she was beginning to ramble. "What I'm saying is...I love Rebecca. More than a teacher. Do you understand? And I don't want to endanger what I have with her. I wanted to tell you because I sense that you're a very special person and I really like you. You're the first immortal I've ever met besides Rebecca and I was hoping we could remain friends when you leave." There, she had said it. Amanda realized she had been holding her breath when Carlo finally spoke.

"My young little thief, Amanda," he began and she could almost hear the smile in his voice. "Truly you are a gem among immortals." It was very clear now that he was laughing and she wasn't sure if it was at her or with her. She started to protest when he resumed.

"I have only been immortal a little longer than you, but already I see that we have many, many years to explore and enjoy our friendship...and real friends are worth keeping, don't you agree?" All she could do was nod.

"Don't you think I could see the love between you and the Lady Rebecca? You are not all that good at hiding your feelings yet, cara...you must work on that," he teased. "I wouldn't dream of coming between the two of you. I can tell that she'll be very good for you, little thief, and you will need all the help you can get to survive." His tone had turned serious and Amanda was about to say something about being referred to as 'little thief' when she felt his hands encircle her waist.

"I do want you. You are beautiful and spirited and full of life. Everything a gypsy treasures in his woman. But, I will not compete with the love I see in your eyes when you look at her." And once again his mood shifted to humor. "But...who knows what next year will bring, eh? I doubt this is the last time we will meet, cara." And his head dipped to take her lips for one passionate moment before releasing her and stepping back.

Amanda caught her breath after the kiss and realized she was leaning into Carlo's chest, bare beneath the opened shirt. She smiled and returned his embrace, but it was evident to the young gypsy that it was as a sister to a brother and he was sad for the second it took her to step back and look in his eyes. But all Amanda saw was the crinkled laugh lines about the deep brown eyes which had drawn her to flirt when she had first met him and she was glad she had decided to tell him everything.

"Thank you, Carlo. And I do hope we meet again. I want you to teach me more of those tricks. I promise never to use them against you."

"Oh, I look forward to teaching you more than sword fighting skills, my little thief. The gypsies are known as great lovers throughout the world. Don't you know that." And the two laughed companionably as they walked, arm in arm back to the camp so Amanda could say goodnight to his family. Just before reaching the welcoming glow of the campfires, Carlo stopped once more and turned Amanda to face him.

"I want you to know if you ever need help and I'm around, you have but to ask. I'm afraid you've enslaved my heart, cara, and I am your willing servant forever."

Amanda took his face between her hands and kissed him softly on the lips. "As I am here for you. You and your family will always have enough if I have anything to do about it. You've come to mean more to me than I any man I've ever known."

Carlo smiled down at her and chucked her under the chin.

"Oh, you're going to break a few hundred hearts, my little thief, before they separate that pretty head from your shoulders," and chuckled when she shivered as she tried not to picture that particular event happening. "Just remember...I was your first and therefore have certain privileges."

Goodnights were said and Carlo escorted Amanda back to the castle grounds due to the lateness of the hour. No more was said of love or slavery and the farewell was of two friends parting with the certainty that they would meet again.

*********************************

Amanda tried to be quiet as she entered the bedchamber she shared with Rebecca in case the older woman was already asleep. But as soon as she opened the door she could see that her care was for naught. Her lover sat in bed, working on a piece of needlework she had a tendency to pick up when bored...or she wanted to do something with her hands while her mind was otherwise occupied. The candlelight made her hair look like a red-gold mantle and Amanda smiled at her as she divested herself of her riding clothes and climbed in beside the warm body already there. Without a word she leaned across Rebecca, her bare breasts brushing lightly across her robe, and blew out the candle which was the only light in the room.

Once the blackness had enveloped them, Amanda took Rebecca in her arms, and still neither of the women spoke. For the first time, Amanda was the initiator of their lovemaking as she slowly pulled the robe from Rebecca's shoulders and threw it on the floor. Then, with a purpose which surprised her mentor, the young immortal woman pushed her older companion down into the soft down of the mattress and kissed her so thoroughly and so long that Rebecca feared she would die of suffocation...but oh what a lovely death it would be. She didn't need to ask Amanda what had happened tonight. It was in her kiss, her touch...her body.

Then all thoughts flew from the mind of the redhead as a nimble hand snaked between her legs, touching that part of her that only Amanda had been able to reach. She held the dark head to her as their lips met again and their tongues played the ancient song of desire, older than immortals. But Amanda became restless with their foreplay above the waist and her hand was soon followed by her dipping head as she tasted the salty womanhood of her lover and knew she had made the right decision tonight.

Rebecca gasped and raised her hips as she pressed Amanda's face into her hot center. The younger immortal nibbled on her clitoris with tiny little nips which made her moan and writhe beneath her, while Amanda's hands caressed her breasts, rolling the hardened nipples between her thumb and forefinger until Rebecca whimpered with desire. As she reached her peak, Amanda drove her tongue into the wet abyss, pulling her hips up for deeper penetration. Rebecca cried out into the blackness and Amanda drank the rush of hot juices which flowed freely from her lover.

Much later, when Amanda's desires has also been quenched and the two lay cuddling in bed, Rebecca spoke for the first time since Amanda's return.

"Did you enjoy yourself at the party?"

"You know good and well that's not what you want to know," Amanda was feeling assured enough to tease her mentor and realized that she was beginning to treat Rebecca as an equal and not her superior. A subtle shift had occurred in their relationship.

"If you must no, I spurned the hot-blooded gypsy so I could come home and make love to you. But you know....," she stopped to give emphasis to her next words. "He's coming back next year..." Amanda let her words hang and was prepared to duck when a wayward pillow was retrieved and aimed, quite well for being in the dark, at her head.

**********************************************

February, 853 AD (three years later)

Amanda could hear the wind whistling through the chinks in the windows and the chill in the drafty hallway made her pull the deep blue wool robe closer. She hurried upstairs to the bedroom...the only halfway warm spot in the whole damned castle. It had been three years since Rebecca had brought her home, but the bitter cold that the stone walls couldn't keep out was easy to forget when you are young and recently aware of your own immortality.

Candlemas was tomorrow and Rebecca insisted on finishing the preparations before they retired. With the last of the items placed on the small altar in the sitting room, Amanda decided that anything not done now could just wait until the morning. The first year she had questioned Rebecca's practice of recognizing Bride's Feast, for although she hadn't been particularly religious in her older, mortal days, she had heard the holy men as they preached to the peasants in the village, warning of a deity who didn't take too kindly to being just one in a myriad of gods and goddesses worshipped throughout the year. The farmers and crafters were a superstitious lot, it was true, raised in the ways of the earth by the old wise women who watched the moon and sun for guidance in their daily lives, but they also knew the power of the Christians, not always as benevolent as they would have you believe. The new religion had transformed many of the land's kings and it wouldn't do not to follow the ways of their lord. So, openly they were Christian. They went to mass and made the sign of the cross, for didn't it also represent the four elements of life? And they celebrated the new holidays, which oddly enough, corresponded very closely with those they had followed for centuries before.

Rebecca didn't bother to justify her own actions to Amanda when questioned about the coming Sabbat. Her only response was that as long as she was in her home, they would follow the path of her choosing. When Amanda went out on her own, she could do as she pleased, becoming a nun if that was her wish. Amanda wrinkled her nose at that thought and shrugged away the rest. It wasn't that she particularly cared one way or the other. She had just been curious. Over the years she had learned that Rebecca practiced her own brand of spirituality. One which respected women and the earth, treating them both with the reverence and sacred trust they deserved and Amanda knew she would be effected by it forever. She particularly like the prayer Rebecca had shared with her. She'd said the church had taken and christianized it, but her mentor still quoted the original:

"Every day and every night
That we speak the name of Brigid,
we shall not kill, we shall not be harried,
we shall not be put in a cell, we shall not
be wounded...
No fire, no sun, no moon shall burn me,
No lake, no water, nor sea shall burn me." (1)

Amanda mused on the day's activities as she slipped into bed and wriggled around under the covers, trying to make a warm spot for her feet. The hot bricks prepared by the servants had cooled almost as quickly as they were placed in the bed and it was like climbing onto cold stone now. Rebecca followed close behind her, having just come up from the kitchen in her last inspection of the meal already being prepared for the feasting tomorrow. The two women wrapped themselves around each other, seeking to keep all body warmth confined to their immediate area.

"Tomorrow we'll go into town to the bake shop for the cakes they'll be making especially for the holiday. You'll love them Amanda. Oat cakes full of honey and nuts." Rebecca tucked her feet under Amanda's gown, while the younger woman wrapped the hem beneath herself, creating a sack-like effect to keep her own feet from the cold sheets which were just beginning to thaw.

"W-w-what else will there b-be." Amanda's teeth chattered and Rebecca chafed her cold hands between her own which were amazingly warm now. "Oh, that feels so good, 'Becca."

"Oh you'll see," and wrapped the younger woman close to her as they finally began to spread their warmth into the rest of the bed.

"Rebecca...tell me about where you came from." The request came as a surprise to Rebecca who hadn't discussed her origins with anyone in several hundred years. Why she was reluctant to tell Amanda now, she wasn't sure, but the quiet figure beside Amanda, told her she'd hit a nerve.

"That's okay. You don't have to talk about it." But Rebecca suddenly felt the need to confide in her ward, the one who she'd let get the closest of all she'd ever taught.

"No, I want to tell you. But you must swear never to discuss what I'm going to say to you with anyone."

"I promise...I mean, I swear."

Rebecca held her closer and began speaking.

"My people came from a land of sun and warmth to one of rain and cold long before the Romans conquered this place. We fought and died for it over 2500 years ago. Some of us went away...we're not sure where. But some went into hiding, deep in the earth, what you call barrows. The superstitious sorts would say they are faery folk. And some of us were like me. I was killed in battle, trying to keep the land we'd fought so hard to live on. For obvious reasons I couldn't stay here, so I traveled back south to the islands of my ancestors and have only come back to these Isles in the last 100 years. But, I never forgot the ways of my people. The gods and goddesses we worshipped and our relationship to the earth."

"And that's why you celebrate the old ways instead of the new ones taught by the church?"

"Yes, partly. And partly because the people need to be reminded of their place here also. To know that they must never loose contact with our mother, the earth."

"Thank you, Rebecca...for telling me. I'll always honor your ways too..the ways you've taught me."

Amanda dozed, thinking about battles and warrior queens, and a land of sunshine and warmth all the time.

As she herself drifted off to sleep, Rebecca thought about all the fun her young protege had brought into her life. She had definitely brightened it with the high spirits, which would never be broken, and that quick wit, honed to a fine edge from years of use on the street. She looked forward to completing Amanda's education and refining the skills she had already picked up. The older immortal had no doubt that her pupil would live a long, is somewhat adventurous life once she left the shelter of her protection. It made her sad to think of that day, but knew it would come eventually and probably wasn't far off. No immortal could remain under the tutelage of her teacher forever. Soon the day would come when Amanda would be ready to face the world and Rebecca knew it would never be the same when that happened.

**********************************

They rattled down the road in the closed carriage that Rebecca had commissioned last year for their transportation during these cold, winter months. The town was only four miles west of the castle, but the roads were in abominable shape this time of year and it took them over an hour to reach their destination.

The village consisted of a bakery, which was their destination, a drygoods shop, a blacksmith and stable, and the mill on the edge of town. Twice a month in the spring and summer, the local farmers would bring their produce to market day and there was always the traveling tinkers and other merchants during that time also. But in February there was little activity, as everyone stayed inside by their fires, gleaning what little warmth that could be found in close quarters.

The two cloaked figures descended from the coach and hurried toward the mouth-watering smells coming from the bake shop. Rebecca went immediately to the shop owner and told him what she wanted. They talked amiably for a few moments about the weather, the health of the villagers and the upcoming festivities, many taking place quietly in the cottages under cover of darkness. Then he went to the back to fill Rebecca's order and she turned to find Amanda inordinately interested in the sticky buns being lusciously displayed in a prominent place up front.

"They do look good don't they, Amanda?"

"Sure do. Can I get one?" Amanda liked her lips as her mouth watered uncontrollably.

"No. We'll have enough to eat when we get home and these cakes are the traditional bread used for Candlemas. Ah, thank you Mr. Shipley. Yes, I think this'll do nicely. You stay warm and have a wonderful Bride's Day."

Rebecca touched Amanda's shoulder, as the young woman was facing the street with her back to the shop, to tell her they were leaving. Amanda jumped slightly, but otherwise seemed happy to be taking their leave. When they were safely and relatively warmly ensconced again in the coach, Rebecca looked curiously at Amanda, who was chewing her lip and studiously observing the wildlife outside the confines of the carriage. Something was going on in that pretty head and she had a sneaking suspicion of just what it was.

"Amanda, you didn't..." Rebecca let the words hang and had no doubt Amanda knew exactly what she was talking about.

"What?" That innocent look in the large, dark eyes might fool some people, and most likely would for centuries, but Rebecca knew her too well now.

Rebecca remained silent, having discovered that tactic undid Amanda quicker than any diatribe of words she could muster. The quieter it got, the more nervous Amanda became until she could no longer contain herself.

"Oh, all right. Yes, I took the bun. So what? He had more than he would ever sell in that case." Her defensive tone almost made Rebecca laugh, but she couldn't let Amanda know how amusing she could be when trying to worm her way out of a 'sticky' situation.

"That's not the point! Haven't you learned anything from me?" Rebecca's stern features caused a sudden lurch in Amanda's chest.

In the past, when she had stolen food and goods to stay alive, she had seldom been caught. Only in the first couple of years, prior to perfecting her skills, and then she had easily either talked her way out of the predicament or escaped with the quick agility of a street urchin. She had never been subjected to long lectures on moral behavior nor cared much for the sisters who provided food and shelter for the poor, needy wretches amongst whom she'd grown up in exchange for sermons of good-will. The independent Amanda preferred to work alone, occasionally helping out a fellow thief if the take was worth the effort. Basically, she had never had to face the consequences of her actions, with the exception of that last time during the plague...and that hadn't really turned out so badly.

She looked up to face Rebecca. In the last years the insecure, belligerent thief had become a more self-assured young woman. She was ready to take whatever her teacher wanted to dish out.

"Yes, I stole it, Rebecca. You look disappointed in me, but do you really understand why? I know we don't *need* more food. I took it because I wanted it and besides, I need to keep in practice." She sounded almost like a petulant child.

She knew that wasn't what her mentor wanted to hear, but this new Amanda wasn't going to lie to the woman she loved just to escape punishment, if that is what she had planned for her. If Rebecca couldn't or wouldn't understand her the way she was, then it was best to know it now. She thought carefully about her next words and continued.

"You don't just replace everything I am or was with a few tips on good breeding and fine speech. It was *fun* to see if I could slip the bun away without either of you catching me. It was exciting to walk out of that shop knowing I'd done something that could possibly get me maimed or imprisoned, although you and I both know that Mr. Shipley would never do anything to hurt the Mistress of the Manor." Her laugh was harsh and slightly sarcastic.

"You need to know now what I've already discovered about myself. That there's a part of me that enjoyed what I did, Rebecca. A part that makes me want to thumb my nose at convention and so-called society. Oh, I can promise I will never embarrass you or do anything to cause you trouble, but that just means I won't get caught. I've been good for years...for you. But, it isn't the real me." With that, Amanda removed the sticky bun from beneath her cloak and began munching on the delicacy with deliberate enjoyment. She licked the crumbs off her lips and rebelliously awaited Rebecca's pleasure.

Rebecca was speechless at first. She'd never met anyone like Amanda and wasn't sure she ever wanted to again. This little vixen sitting complacently across from her, blatantly eating the bun she had pilfered, had just told her she was glad she had stolen, didn't have the slightest remorse and all but admitted she'd do it again. What was she going to do with her?

"Well." Rebecca would not let her confusion show. "It seems that I've nothing more to teach you or give you, Amanda." She watched for the effect of her words.

Amanda just sat there, chewing and licking. It was going to be a test of wills and she was much stronger than she'd been three years ago and had always been more stubborn. This would be interesting. She knew what Rebecca was doing and wasn't going to make it easy for her. If she wanted to throw her out on her ear, she would survive. She knew that now. But, if she played it right, there would be no need for such drastic measures. Yes, she loved Rebecca and it made her a little nervous to think of life without her. She'd figure out a way to make it right again. Of that she had no doubt.

In exasperation, Rebecca decided to drop the issue for the time being. She didn't want to ruin this special day by fighting with Amanda. But she'd have to think of some way to let Amanda know that her behavior was unacceptable as long as she lived under her roof and protection.

The carriage rolled into the courtyard and the women rushed inside out of the drizzling, icy rain. The housekeeper met them to take their wet over garments and could tell there was something wrong immediately. Her mistress and the young one were usually quite animated around each other, laughing much of the time when they weren't sparring on the roof. Now, the air was thick with tension and Rebecca's mouth had that pinched look about it, indicating extreme displeasure. Amanda didn't seem quite so agitated and even smiled at Mistress Howard as she took her cloak. Her guess was that Amanda had stuck her foot in it again. That one was full of more mischief than her grandson, Andrew, and that was saying a lot.

Rebecca took the cakes to Cook in the kitchen and returned to find Amanda intently studying the portraits hanging in the hall. She turned to meet Rebecca's steady gaze and walked toward her slowly and purposefully. When she was within arms length of the blonde woman, Amanda stopped and searched her face for some clue as to the outcome of this little battle of wills.

They stood facing each other, toe to toe, one taller and paler than the other. One just a bit more self-assured. Rebecca was amazed sometimes at the difference the short time with her had made in Amanda. The girl was a quick study and her natural ability to bounce back from whatever little foibles life threw her way had held her in good stead in the period following her mortal death. Before her now stood a young woman of poise, beauty and confidence...chewing her bottom lip. That last thought almost caused Rebecca to detour from her original goal as a telltale giggle threatened to bubble upwards, but the remembrance of a defiant Amanda facing her in the carriage renewed her determination.

"I'll be in my room till the celebration tonight. I suggest you use your time this afternoon deciding whether you still want to live under this roof after tomorrow." The older woman swept by the younger without a backwards look, and the object of her rebuke simply stared after her, mouth slightly agape.

Amanda, once recovered from the shock, went to the study to think about Rebecca's words and all they entailed. The fire, as usual was crackling merrily in the hearth, belying the somber mood of the room's only occupant. She sat in the leather chair which was Rebecca's favorite and poured a mug of ale from the stoneware pitcher on the sideboard.

Over the course of the afternoon Amanda managed to finish off five mugs of ale and still hadn't come to any conclusions about Rebecca's ultimatum. She'd do anything for her lover and had no intention of leaving. Of that she was sure. But, she'd also come to realize that she couldn't live under the shadow of Rebecca's high moral code, either. She'd learned to read, write, talk and walk like a well born lady while under Rebecca's care, but she knew, sadly, that she would never *be* Rebecca. The older immortal was content to live her life in the country, taking the stray pre-immortal such as Andrew under her wing occasionally, while enjoying a long life with few disturbances. With another long draught of the ale, Amanda smirked at herself as she tried to picture that life for the next 100 years.

The door scraping the floor as it opened brought her out of her reveries as she watched Rebecca enter the room in her long woolen robes. She hadn't dressed yet for the festival, which would be held in the great hall and attended by all who lived on her land.

"'mon in, 'Becca," Amanda's indulgences of the afternoon evidenced themselves in her speech. "I'm just thinkin' bout how far I've come from that plague cart in St. Anne's. And I have no one but you to thank." The last word caused a spray of spittle to shower the arm of Amanda's chair. "Come on in and have a drink."

Rebecca had never seen Amanda in this condition and her heart went out to the girl who was trying so hard to please her, yet maintain her own identity. Tomorrow would be time enough for recriminations and decisions of the life-changing kind. Tonight her lover needed the reassurance of one older and wiser.

The statuesque strawberry blonde crossed the room in three strides, circling the occupied chair till she was behind Amanda, her hands resting lightly on the thin shoulders. She let them slide down to the rise of Amanda's breasts as she leaned over the chair and rested her face on the soft black mane which now fell in disarray before her. Rebecca brought one hand up to caress the face she loved and felt the trails of wetness coursing down her cheeks. She could bear it no longer.

"Oh my sweet. Amanda, don't cry. You know you don't have to leave. Please shush....it's okay. We can talk about it tomorrow. Don't you want to enjoy the party? Everyone will be here soon."

Usually the hint of any festivities perked the brunette right up, but tonight Rebecca could already tell that her young ward wouldn't be talked out of her deep, blue funk with bribes of dancing and merriment.

A sniffle from below made her twist her head around to look at Amanda head on. Large, liquid brown eyes gazed at her appealingly and Rebecca knew there was only one thing to do. She lifted Amanda up awkwardly and put her arm around her shoulder to steady the young woman as they left the study and somehow managed to make it upstairs to the bed chamber. With the gentleness of a mother, Rebecca disrobed her charge and laid her back on the waiting pillows. Amanda raised her arms, childlike, indicating that Rebecca should join her, so the blonde laid down beside the still weeping immortal and held her in her arms. With a final hiccup, Amanda was asleep.

Not sure how much time had gone by, Rebecca jerked awake to the sounds of heavy knocking below. The fire had gone down considerably and the room was heavily shadowed, so it had to be well past dark. Amanda lay sleeping in illusionary innocence as soft snores escaped her slightly opened mouth. There would be no festival for Amanda tonight, Rebecca thought wistfully, but at least she wouldn't be brooding around all evening. She dressed and hurried downstairs to greet her guests and found she was very much looking forward to this Candlemas celebration. A new year with new beginnings. Yes, it was beginning to get more and more interesting around Caer Wydyr and she had a feeling the excitement was just beginning. With a secret smile on her face, Rebecca helped the children make small Brigid dolls for the ritual later that night.

***************************

The Bride's Feast at Caer Wydyr was a raving success and Rebecca sent her tenants home with gifts of food and clothing to celebrate the coming of Spring and the return of light. But she was glad when the last visitor had departed and she tiredly dragged herself upstairs to join the still sleeping rebellious heathen she'd come to love and desire. A lock of hair had wrapped itself across Amanda's open mouth, so Rebecca gently pulled it away from the peaceful face. The girl looked almost angelic in sleep, mused Rebecca, but quickly scoffed at anyone mistaking Amanda for that heraldic of all beings. No, this one would never wear a halo, she silently laughed at herself.

What a day it had been. The tension of the sticky bun episode, on top of having to play the genial hostess to 150 tenants and their families had taken its toll on Rebecca. She slid under the cool sheets and snuggled close to Amanda who had shifted to a position on her side, allowing Rebecca to scoot up to her backside spoon fashion. With her arm wrapped about the slim figure, she soon joined her in slumber with the certain knowledge that they could work out anything that might result from Amanda's newfound independence.

1 - From "The Celtic Tradition" by Caitlin Matthews

**********************************

Someone was sticking a knife right through her skull! Amanda blindly fought off the intruder with one hand across her face and groped uselessly for her sword beside the bed with the other.

"Who's there...what is it...what do you want?" Her confused and muddled mind took several moments to discover the source of the slicing pain and when she did, Rebecca was sure she'd actually added a few new words to her own vocabulary. She decided playing ignorance was the better part of valor in this situation.

"Isn't it a lovely day, Amanda, after all the rain we've had. I think the sun is actually shining this morning."

"Well, let it shine somewhere else, will you?" Was the petulant reply. "My head's about to explode and I just wish it would go ahead and do it."

By now, Amanda had retreated under the covers and refused to come out until Rebecca closed the offending drapery. Once that promise was made, she peeked her nose out suspiciously till she was convinced that the chamber was in sufficient gloom to suit her mood. It was then that her nose discerned the wonderful aroma of the breakfast sitting beside the bed on the chest. She wasn't sure her stomach was quite up to the challenge, but the mouthwatering smells in and of themselves were enough to raise her spirits considerably.

"I thought you might like a little something to get the parts moving this morning." Rebecca poured a goblet of hot mulled wine for Amanda and joined her on the bed. The sipped quietly for a few moments when both decided it was time to break the stalemate of the day before...at the same time.

"I'm sorry...." "I'm sor" They both looked up from their glasses and laughed together. It felt good and Amanda was the first to restart.

"No, I was wrong, Rebecca. You've done nothing but help me. You've shown me the kindness and love I thought I would never have and how have I repaid you?" The face that stared back at Rebecca was full of repentant sadness. "I promise that as long as I live here with you, you'll never have to worry about me stealing." Rebecca chose to ignore the fact that Amanda hadn't sworn off stealing forever.

Instead, she raised her hand to touch the soft cheek still creased from the bed clothes and breathed a sigh of relief and joy.

"Amanda, I don't have any answers to the things you said yesterday. About enjoying what you did and rebelling against society. I guess it's just the devil in you that makes us so different," this said with a wry smile, "but I honestly want you to be your own person. I never thought I could remake you in my own image and I don't want you to think you have to be me...or compete against me. You've learned so much already and I'm not sure how much more I have to teach you. But, however long you decide to stay, I think we can now accept each other as equal partners in our relationship, don't you?"

Amanda had been listening intently and seemed genuinely glad to hear Rebecca's words. She nodded briefly and lowered her head as she played with the rim of her goblet. The whole incident was being put behind her, she thought, when Rebecca surprised her with a last admonition.

"So today we go back into town and you can pay Mr. Shipley for the sticky bun, okay? You better get your lazy arse out of that bed if you're going to be ready in an hour."

Amanda's head shot up and she glared at Rebecca, who only smiled innocently and began straightening up the room, pretending total oblivion to the new charged atmosphere. Amanda tried cajoling, arguing, pouting and even stomping her foot, but nothing would shake Rebecca's resolve. Amanda would go into the bakery, by herself, and give the baker the money for the bun and that was that.

So, it was a sullen young immortal who was bouncing down the road an hour later while Rebecca sat across from her and chatted animatedly about the festival the night before and the coming plans for spring. When they got to town, Rebecca headed off in the opposite direction saying she needed to replenish their flour supply, leaving Amanda standing in front of the bakery window.

Less than half an hour had gone by and the two women were once more ensconced in the carriage, headed back the way they'd come. Rebecca watched Amanda through her lashes as they rode in silence. The dark head turned toward the window. The elder woman knew she was pouting and decided to let her get over it on her own. She'd finally learned that that was the only way to handle the headstrong female she'd taken to her heart and home. If one tried to talk her out of these moods, one usually just wound up being frustrated.

**********************************

They returned to their comfortable routine shortly after the sticky bun incident and Amanda seemed as good as her word the morning after the infamous drinking binge. She'd become the model student and their personal relationship had never been better. All of which, of course, made Rebecca immensely suspicious, but there was really nothing she could do except wait for the next round of willfulness. She wouldn't delude herself for a moment that life could ever be peaceful and quiet with Amanda.

Spring crept upon them with its usual unpredictable behavior and it was finally warm and dry enough for them to resume their riding. That was one activity with which Amanda had immediately fallen in love and Rebecca was happy to indulge her passion for it. She loved horses and they seemed fairly fond of her, so each day that didn't bring a downpour found them astride their mounts, galloping into the wind across Caer Wydyr.

It was on their return from one of these romps that Andrew met them, as usual, in the courtyard, ready to take the horse back to the stables for grooming and a well deserved meal. His expression was excited and it was perfectly clear that he could hardly contain whatever bit of news he'd picked up over the course of the morning.

"Oh, M'lady," he babbled, "they're coming back. They'll be here next month!" Andrew was practically jumping up and down and Rebecca had to grab his arm to slow the stableboy down.

"Who is coming? Andrew, please take your time and tell me," she gently reprimanded him.

"The gypsies...Carlo...they're coming back to Caer Wydyr. A cousin of Carlo's who is headed to Scotland for some large festival brought their message. They'd like to camp here again." He took a deep breath and began again, but Amanda grabbed him around the neck and dragged him towards the stable playfully.

"I think you've gotten yourself too worked up, Andy...How about a nice dunk here in the trough to cool you down."

Andrew began wiggling free and giggling simultaneously so that neither of them got very far in their efforts. For some reason, the news made Amanda very happy and she was feeling extremely girlish and playful. Rebecca headed toward the front door, her thoughtful expression causing a few creases to mar the otherwise smooth brow. She would be happy to offer her hospitality once more to the Galati's and was truly glad they were returning for the summer. Since their first visit, Josef had managed to keep in touch with Rebecca on a sporadic basis, sending messages of greeting and well wishes anytime someone from a passing caravan came close to Caer Wydyr. They hadn't been able to repeat their visit as they'd planned the next year, but it seemed they were finally returning to England this spring. Rebecca had a sneaking suspicion that the peace she'd enjoyed since Candlemas was about to be shattered.

*****************************

The caravan arrived on a sunny day in mid-April, just in time for the blossoming apple trees to welcome them with their sweet scent. Rebecca knew the day they set up camp from her gamekeeper and was expecting Josef's visit the next morning. She was somewhat surprised to see Carlo with him, but welcomed them both into her home. As they were entering the seating area of the large hall, Amanda come down the stairs, sword held against her skirts in an effort to hide the blade as she tentatively rounded the last corner into the room.

"Rebecca, I felt an immor..." she was cut off by the cold steel of a blade effectively stopping any actions or words she may have expressed. She hadn't seen anyone yet, but knew Rebecca was close by. Had she been subdued somewhere else in the castle? She was sure she'd heard someone at the door and there was that telltale hardening of her nipples she couldn't mistake. Without much thought to danger or consequences, Amanda rammed the point of her sword downward, toward her assailants feet and was rewarded with a howl of surprise and pain. It also had the desired effect of removing the blade from her throat. Before whoever it was could recover, she'd rounded on them, bringing her own weapon upwards stopping just short of decapitation when she recognized the attacker.

"Carlo!?" The blade still hung in mid-air just below his chin and wide brown eyes. The sound of laughter behind Amanda, broke the silence which followed her initial shock of seeing the gypsy and she saw Carlo's lips begin to twitch.

"Expecting someone else, cara?"

The dark Romany slowly raised his arm to wrap his fingers around Amanda's hand, still clutching the hilt of her sword. The movement made her realize she still held the sword at a very precarious angle, for Carlo, that is, and she lowered the blade and stepped forward into his open arms. He swung her around as if she were a child and set her back on her feet in front of Rebecca and Josef who had been standing by a small table laden with Ale and mugs. There was a hint of pride in Rebecca's voice when she spoke.

"Well, I'm glad to know you're willing to protect my honor, Amanda," she said in teasing tones.

Amanda's cheeks, down her neck and across her bosom turned a becoming shade of pink as she put the sword away and joined the reunion. She was surprised how happy she was to see Carlo again and realized at one point during the visit that she'd been staring openly at his handsome good looks. She sneaked a peek at Rebecca only to find the older woman deep in conversation with Josef as he related the adventures of the caravan since the last time they'd met. Carlo, on the other hand, didn't seem the least bit interested in the goings on between Rebecca and his father and seemed to be having a similar problem keeping his eyes off Amanda. Finally, he could stand it no longer.

"Come outside and see my new horse," he knew how to get her attention.

When the two stood up to leave, Rebecca paused in her recount of a particularly bad case of consumption that had gone around her tenants, looking at Amanda questioningly.

"I'm going to see Carlo's new horse, 'Becca. I'll be right back." Amanda's words were innocent enough, but there was somewhat of a guilty look on her face which caused a twinge of jealousy to grip Rebecca's heart. She hid her warring emotions by turning to refill Josef's cup as she dismissed Amanda and Carlo like two children going outside to play.

Once in the sunny courtyard, alone with the woman who'd filled his dreams for almost three years, Carlo became uncertain and tentative. Amanda sensed this change and concentrated on the magnificent animal before her, not knowing how to deal with this new Carlo and her own conflicting feelings.

"How'd you get him, Carlo? Last time I saw you, you were atop a pony who'd seen better days."

The young woman looked away from the well muscled neck she'd been absently stroking, into the largest, deepest, softest brown eyes she'd ever seen. The conflict was over and she'd lost the battle of wills being waged between common sense and her physical body. Wordlessly they came together in a kiss full of all the longing, all the dreams they'd shared since their last time together. Carlo backed Amanda up against the stable door, pressing urgently against her as his mouth told her how much he'd needed and missed her and parts lower spoke of other longings. Amanda's nipples hardened against the rough material of her dress, only this time it wasn't from the call of another immortal. It was the call between man and woman. She felt his lips graze the smooth skin of her neck and a ripple of pleasure began there, moving downward toward her apex, leaving her breathless and without coherent thought. He kissed her eyelids, her nose, the fine edge of her jaw, until he gathered her to him, whispering Romany words of love in her ear. Even though she couldn't understand them, she felt their meaning and her breath turned ragged as she returned his ardor.

Just as she thought the earth would open up and suck her into its depths with passion, the horse nickered behind them and she realized where they were and what they were doing. On the heels of that realization came thoughts of Rebecca, causing a most unexpected reaction, as far as Carlo was concerned. She pushed him away, not meeting those questioning brown eyes and ran toward the pen behind the barn, sucking in great gulps of air to clear her head...and her heart. What was she doing? Was she mad?

With the famous insight of a gypsy, Carlo left her alone to fight the demons he'd glimpsed in her eyes before the hasty departure. He wondered briefly if it was a retreat or regroup that he'd just witnessed. So, with a sigh and quick adjustment of his pants, which all of sudden seemed a bit too small, he headed back toward the manor house, leaving Amanda to make her decision.

The young immortal was a long way from that juncture, however. Amanda leaned against the rough railing of the fence, absently stroking the soft nose of the gelding who'd wandered over to see what treats she'd brought him. Her breathing had returned to normal, but her mind was still racing. Gone for the moment was the self-assured woman she'd become and in her place stood a confused, slightly aroused one.

Within moments, though, she'd reached the decision which was to become the hallmark for the rest of her life. Why couldn't she have both Rebecca and Carlo? Why did she have to choose? Already the implications of immortality were becoming clear to her as she realized that she'd have years to indulge her fantasies, her senses, her will. She didn't have to worry about losing her looks or dying before she was ready to end her time with someone. She had all the time in the world. Surely Rebecca understood that. As Amanda worried her bottom lip in her unconscious way of thinking about something seriously, she knew that life and living were hers for the taking.

As she re-entered the castle, Rebecca could sense immediately that something had changed in her protege. A subtle shift in attitude, a new gleam she'd never seen in her eyes, or was it the way she moved, gliding across the room with a confidence born of certainty and security. Amanda had just made some major decisions regarding herself or her life and Rebecca felt the weight of sadness settle in the pit of her stomach following the initial grip on her heart. With the excuse of having to ready a basket being sent to a whole family of sick tenants, Rebecca took her leave of the small group, asking Amanda to see their guests out when their visit was concluded. It wasn't long before Josef rose to leave, taking his reluctant offspring with him. He wasn't blind either and hoped that the man he claimed as son wouldn't ruin the good relations between the gypsies and Caer Wydyr. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to return, even after three years, to this land which had welcomed him so freely. He mentally calculated how long it would take his family to return to Spain.

Amanda joined Rebecca in the kitchen shortly after the father and son had departed. The two women worked silently preparing the delivery and once Amanda deemed it ready, practically dragged Rebecca out of the noisy cooking area into the quieter dining room.

"All right, what's your problem?" Rebecca looked at Amanda questioningly as if she didn't know what she was talking about.

"Don't give me that look. Is it Carlo being back?" and she knew she'd found the source of the burr in the older woman's saddle. But, Rebecca still tried to brush it off.

"Don't be ridiculous, Amanda. Why would I mind the gypsies coming back to Caer Wydyr? They've always been welcome, so why should this year be any different?" Rebecca played with the sleeve of her robe where it had begun to unravel. Amanda noticed she would not look up and meet her searching gaze.

"I don't think it's the gypsies...it's Carlo you mind. Are you jealous?" Leave it to Amanda to cut right to the heart of the problem. No games today.

Rebecca sighed and shifted her seat on the bench a little closer to Amanda. She was amazed once more at how much Amanda had changed in three years. Here she sat, looking at Rebecca with that penetrating gaze, eyes almost black with purpose, making the woman want to look away. She'd learned patience, focus, and determination from her tutor and now it was being turned back on her. Perhaps it was time...

"Amanda, believe me when I say that Carlo's arrival here does not change the way I feel about you or he. As a matter of fact, I think you should spend some time with the gypsies while they're here this year." Amanda's brow rose in question and surprise.

"Spend time with them...as in visit every day? What do you mean?"

"I think they might have a lot to teach you. All you've known since your death is this castle, these lands and the small town nearby. I've taught you a lot, I know, but there is so much more to know, so many more places to see. You need more outside influences, I think."

Amanda was starting to get panicked. Was Rebecca kicking her out? She couldn't tell, but she didn't want to lose this woman who's love had brought her back from the abyss of failure and loss. Rebecca saw her eyes flicker nervously and realized she may have pushed too hard. With a reassuring arm around one shoulder and an affectionate caress of one soft cheek, she led Amanda to the sitting room where they would have more privacy. They talked and drank the afternoon away, losing track of time and place. Laughing about some of Amanda's antics from her earlier days at Caer Wydyr, reminiscing about past summers of fun and freedom, planning the next winter's stores. The topic didn't matter. Rebecca wanted to savor this moment and burn the images of Amanda, happy and carefree, in her brain for future reference. She would have need of them soon.

******************************************

Despite her suspicions of Rebecca's motives, Amanda found herself visiting the gypsies frequently over the next three weeks. It was now coming up on Beltaine, another of Rebecca's ancient holidays, often celebrated as May Day by the villagers. The flowers brought a riot of color to the countryside and it was these days of late spring that Amanda loved most. Riding Dagda through the woods and streams of Caer Wydyr brought a certainty that she would never leave Rebecca. But then she would spend a day and evening with Carlo and the rest of the caravan, laughing, helping with chores, learning their music and arts and felt a pang at the thought of not being able to share life with these gay, yet talented people.

Amanda and Carlo often found a few moments to be alone during each visit. She still struggled with her conflicting feelings for Rebecca and the handsome young man, but her latest revelation of endless time seemed to ease her conscience, as well as the guilt she had first experienced when he'd kissed her three years before. Now, when Amanda found herself wrapped in strong, brown arms, she accepted his kisses and forward advances. The touch of his fingers on her cheek or the firmer feel of his hand on her breasts made her breath quicken. It was the same, yet different from the feelings evoked by Rebecca. And each time found her curiosity breaking down the defenses she'd tried bravely to maintain.

And then she would go home to Rebecca who, now that her days weren't filled with Amanda's lessons, had returned to her arts and leisurely activities. The sight of the bright head bent over an easel or tapestry, writing a letter or playing an instrument...these were the scenes which greeted her each evening. But one night, after dinner with the camp had run particularly late, Amanda climbed the stairs to her room only to be greeted by a soft sob behind the chamber door of their bedroom. A gut-wrenching feeling started in the pit of Amanda's stomach and rose slowly till it constricted her throat with the torment she heard in that cry. She decided she wouldn't visit the camp again for a few days and spend some much needed time with her lover, friend, and mentor. She didn't want to jeopardize the one stable element she'd ever had in her whole life.

Over the course of the next week, Amanda helped Rebecca pick out a tree to be used as the May Pole for the upcoming revelries and they took long walks in the nearby meadows, looking for the herbs and flowers they would need for the special dishes and decorations. It was easy to fall back into the carefree lifestyle of the previous years and only once did Amanda surprise a look of poignant sadness in Rebecca's eyes.

*******************************************

Beltaine came and went and the hope of an abundant harvest and fertile livestock was affirmed during the night of revelry and feasting. Amanda and Rebecca joined the many other couples as they headed off into the darkness after the fire festival had wound down. They greeted the dawn together, laying on the rise of a hill overlooking Caer Wydyr, their faces lit by the rising sun and a contentment that neither would know again for many years.

Carlo came visiting the next morning, looking a bit the worse for wear after the camp's own May Day celebration. After much teasing by the women of the manor, he revealed the purpose of his visit.

"We're going to move on tomorrow, Rebecca," he addressed the mistress of Caer Wydyr. At Amanda's look of startled dismay, which she quickly tried to hide, he rushed into the real reason for his personal visit. "We have decided to spend the summer traveling through the western lands. There is much to be earned when you have the skills my caravan possesses and many of the younger people are becoming restless."

Rebecca could believe this. The older children she had met during the gypsy's first visit to her lands were now adolescent or older. They would not want to settle for one place very long.

"So, what will you do, Carlo?" Rebecca knew that the young man hadn't taken to the tinker's trade as his father had hoped.

"Why, I will be a performer," he grinned at the revelation which brought a look of curious bewilderment to Rebecca and one of almost awe to Amanda.

"When I traveled with my uncle, I learned much about swordmanship, horses and acrobatics, the fields his caravan specializes in. I seem to have a particular penchant for... certain acrobatic skills, wouldn't you agree Amanda?"

The dark-haired woman blushed as she recalled their first encounter when he'd shamelessly beaten her. But a sparkle of excitement soon replaced the becoming glow as she wanted to know all about his proposed adventure.

Carlo explained that he would pick up some younger cousins along their travels and form his own circus group, riding in tandem with the caravan. While his family repaired and sold wares to the villages across England, his group would bring the much needed entertainment that remote areas so lacked. By the time they got a good start, the crops would be sowed and a long summer would lay ahead for the farmers. His face was animated and flushed with excitement as he described the act he envisioned putting together.

Rebecca smiled indulgently as she often did at Amanda's antics, while the younger woman practically danced, caught up in the excitement of Carlo's plan.

"I would like to invite you both to the camp tonight so my parents can say goodbye properly."

To Amanda's surprise, Rebecca accepted for both of them and inquired as to the time they would be expected. Shortly after his father's message had been delivered, Carlo took his leave, explaining that he had much to do in preparation for the 'morrow's departure.

Amanda and Rebecca drove the open cart to the camp late in the afternoon, arriving a bit early to help with any of the evenings feastial preparations. Rebecca was immediately put to work selecting the seasonings for the large stew simmering over an open fire in the center of the caravan. She had become well respected, not only in her own community, but by the gypsies for her knowledge of herbal lore.

Amanda went to help with the harness repair going on at the far end. Her love of horses acted as a magnet for such chores and, even with her small hands, she was able to work nimbly and deftly with the subtle leather. Rebecca looked up often to see Amanda and Carlo working side by side over the repairs, their two dark heads bent to almost touching. As she stirred and added herbs and spices, the older woman realized that the tension that had been building since the Galati's arrival would soon be resolved, one way or the other.

Once the harness she'd been working on was done, Amanda strolled over toward Rebecca to talk to Rosalind. She'd become very fond of the matriarch of the Romany camp during her many visits and had come to respect the wisdom she often shared with the impressionable young woman. Both woman at the fire looked up at her approach and both smiled at her. It was really hard not to like Amanda, as long as she was getting her way, and both women, one a good bit older than the other, cared very much for her, in different ways.

Rosalind rose from the ground, much more gracefully than Amanda would have thought possible for a woman of her age. With relief, she realized she would never have to face the infirmities that come with normal aging, but if she did, she wanted to be just like Carlo's mother. A movement out the corner of her eye made Amanda turn just in time to avoid the welcoming jump of Sheba, who'd grown to all of 75 lbs. over the last three years. Amanda laughed at the favored dog, for it was clear that Rosalind had made a special place in her heart for the pooch.

"Come with me, little one, I have something to show you." Rosalind turned toward the wagon, shooing Sheba in a failed stern voice.

Amanda and Rebecca looked at each other curiously, wondering what the elder woman had for her, but Amanda obediently followed her into the wagon where she'd disappeared.

She climbed in, letting the curtains fall behind her, causing brief blindness as her eyes accustomed themselves to the dark interior which was dispelled only by a small candle sitting of the round table in the center of the floor. As she became used to the dimness of the wagon, she noticed that Rosalind had seated herself on a cushion opposite her at the table and the old woman's eyes glowed eerily, which Amanda chalked up to the candlelight.

"I sense a restlessness in you, Amanda cara," Rosalind began, her voice a low monotone of soothing sound. Amanda was instantly entranced by it and could only nod at the comment.

"We are leaving tomorrow, you know this." The statement did not require a response. "Before we go, I feel the need to show you what lies ahead. This knowledge, only you will know what to do with." The older woman did not have quite the grasp of English that her son had acquired and at times Amanda had to pay close attention to understand her. "I only know what the old gods tell me to do and all I can do is follow their path." She brought out a dark purple scarf of some sort of very soft material. Amanda didn't think she'd ever seen anything like it. She unfolded it reverently and withdrew, what at first, appeared to Amanda to be a deck of playing cards. As the gnarled fingers began deftly shuffling them, however, Amanda caught glimpses of images she'd never seen on the cards she and Rebecca played with during evenings when she just couldn't keep her mind on her studies. Amanda found that her voice had escaped her and could only sit and watch, fascinated.

"I want you to shuffle them now, Amanda. And when you feel that you have done a good job, cut the deck into three stacks."

Amanda did as she was instructed and divided the cards into three piles, the largest being in the middle. Rosalind brought the stacks back together into one deck, only in a different order than Amanda had cut them. From the bottom, Rosalind pulled a card and turned it face up and nodded approvingly.

"This is you," she said, almost triumphantly. Amanda peered through the dimness at the card and sucked in her breath at the image on the table. It was a dark haired woman, a sword at her feet. The wind seemed to be sweeping through her hair and she wore a three-spiked crown.

"What is it?" Amanda asked.

"It is the Queen of Swords. She is quick witted, but very stubborn...she wants her own way. But," and Rosalind peered into Amanda's wide eyes, "she is sad and doesn't trust very easily. She has been hurt in the past." Amanda said nothing, just nodding her head slightly.

The next cards Rosalind turned up seemed to confirm whatever it was she had suspected.

"This is the mood around you. It's the card of Strength. You are a very determined young woman, no? You have fortitude and willpower. Hm, I don't think you are easily taken advantage of."

Rosalind turned over a couple of more cards, mumbling and nodding to herself sagely. When she turned over the fourth card, she let out a sigh of triumph.

"Ah, this is the problem. I see it clearly now. The eight of Cups," she stated, as if that explained everything. "It is time for you to move on to higher things, cara. You must discard the old ways and people in your life and make way for the new."

Amanda made a soft noise that could have been a whimper, but Rosalind had gone on to the next card.

"Yes, it is all here. Your past....there was a traumatic change. Am I right?" Amanda was amazed.

"How can you tell?"

"The Tower. That is what it symbolizes," she spoke slowly, as if trying to explain something simple to a child. "You have outgrown your life. What you used to believe is no longer true, eh?" Rosalind was beside herself with excitement and ignored Amanda's sounds of shock and disbelief.

"And this is your future, the eight of staves. You will travel...go on a long journey. But this is good. It is your destiny."

She turned another card over and nodding turned the eighth card. "And your strength, Amanda. Your strength lies in your dignity...your power. You have been in a period of training and you have yet more to learn. The three of pentacles means you will be a great craftswoman, very good at what you do."

Amanda liked that and continued to warm to Rosalind's reading of her fortune. "What else does it show, Rosalind?"

"And this card...this one is you. It holds the essence that makes you what you are," and she turned over the ninth card and gasped.

"What! What do you see?" Amanda tensed with despair. Afraid of what the cards would tell her.

"I have never seen such good omens for a woman before." Amanda searched the symbols of the card desperately looking for a clue as to her future.

"You have a very generous nature, my dear, but you like things of the earth. Things that can only be bought and not earned." Rosalind smiled to reassure the girl. "Don't worry...you will receive many gifts in your life." Amanda couldn't help but be pleased by the prognosis of what lay ahead for her.

"And this is the last card. It is the conclusion. What you are about." With a dramatic pause, Rosalind slowly turned over the card and grinned.

"You are very lucky, child."

"What card is it, what does it say, what does it mean," Amanda was caught up in the excitement.

"It is The World." Rosalind looked at Amanda to see if the full significance of this card was lost on the young woman and saw that it was.

"You will be completely successful. You will know victory and reward."

"In what?" But Rosalind was no longer listening, entranced by her own handy work, she continued.

"You are a child of the Goddess, Amanda. Again I see travel, across oceans. And you will be free to chart your own course. And you will have a very, very long life. I tell you I have never seen such a display of the cards." Rosalind looked up again, this time her face showing some slight awe of the young woman seated before her.

Amanda seemed to be in shock, but even in the dim candlelight, Rosalind could see the flush of triumph on her face. Would she and Rebecca take a long journey soon? When would she have her first real fight with another immortal? Victory would be hers. She realized that Rosalind hadn't said anything about her life with Rebecca, though. Were did she come in? She had much to think on.

Amanda crawled out of the wagon, dazed, but somehow elated. Rebecca looked up at her emergence and the smile of greeting froze. Something had changed. The Amanda who was now walking slowly toward her was not the same woman she'd seen an hour ago. Rebecca rose and met Amanda half-way to the wagon and took her arm. She steered her toward the edge of the woods and stopped when they'd reached a place out of sight of the camp. Through all this, Amanda hadn't said a word and Rebecca was somewhat worried along with the sadness she felt.

"She told me my fortune, 'Becca." Amanda has spoken so softly that Rebecca had to lean her head toward the dark one to hear her clearly.

"Really? And what did you find out?" She held her breath as she waited for Amanda's next words.

"That I'm coming to the end of a part of my life. There's a new world waiting for me, Rebecca, a world of success and victory! But Rosalind said I had to make my own decisions."

The young woman seemed almost in pain. Rebecca suspected that making decisions was something Amanda didn't have much practice in. She wanted to ask her what that decision had been, but was afraid of the answer. Instead she sat there, Amanda's hand in her own, unconsciously stroking the long fingers which gave her such delight, yet could wield a sword with competence and skill.

"I don't know what to do, 'Becca. I've never had a choice before." This simple statement spoke volumes to Rebecca, who knew what dilemma Amanda was facing.

"Well, you always knew you couldn't stay her forever, Amanda," and stopped the young woman as she started to protest. "I have had almost 2500 years to explore...myself and the world. I know what's out there and have made my decision where I want to be. There is much you have never even heard of."

"I won't leave you Rebecca." The words were the first sign of definitive thought Rebecca had heard from her since she'd left the wagon. "You can't make me." Now there was a hint of panic, similar to what she'd heard during the 'sticky bun' incident when she'd all but threatened Amanda with expulsion.

"Nobody's going to *make* you do anything Amanda. The choice has always been yours."

A sound made them women look up as Carlo approached them, a slight frown of worry marring the dark good looks.

"I've been looking for you. Mi Madre sent me to find you...the feast is about to begin." He looked at the two closely, trying to discern the reason for the look of sadness on Rebecca's face and the unnatural sparkle in Amanda's eyes. He put it down to a lover's tiff and turned to walk back to the camp. As much as he'd wanted to make love to Amanda, he never tried to press her again after the incident in the woods three years ago. He knew better than to try to compete with Rebecca and frankly, didn't want to hurt the red-haired beauty who had shown nothing but kindness to him and his people. He could only hope that he'd have his chance one day, one year....one century.

The three all returned to the fire lit area where music was already playing and the mead and ale flowing freely. Rebecca had brought a cask of the manor's finest and the gypsies were making good use of her hospitality. The two immortal women did their best to enjoy the party, but it was evident they were impatient to leave soon after the meal had been finished and their hosts complimented and thanked for such a wonderful evening. Rebecca walked to the carriage to prepare for their departure, leaving Amanda to say her good-byes to Carlo alone.

"I'll miss you Carlo."

"Ah, cara, I wish you were going with me. I would teach you all the tricks you'll need to know to survive and maybe take care of you myself a little along the way," she could hear the smile in his voice.

The young immortals hugged briefly, but Amanda was too conscious of the waiting Rebecca and, without speaking, turned to walk toward the waiting conveyance.

The ride back to the castle was quiet, partly because Amanda was lulled into a doze by the gentle jostling of the carriage and partly because what little awareness she still had was taken up with Rosalind's reading. She laid her head on Rebecca's shoulder, resting her hand on the elder's arm gently and reassuringly. Of one thing she was certain...she loved Rebecca more than she ever thought possible. She couldn't imagine ever having these feelings for another person, immortal or not. When they reached the courtyard, a sleepy-eyed Andrew met them to take care of the horses and carriage. By the time they'd climbed the stairs, Amanda had awakened and was thinking more clearly.

Rebecca had tried to keep what little conversation there was light and insignificant. They chatted briefly about the fiesta they'd just left and how much they hoped the gypsies would return to Caer Wydyr soon. Both made an obvious effort to skirt around any mention of the gypsy woman's fortune or of Carlo and the furtive glances he'd been casting at Amanda all evening.

They made slow, blissful love, each trying to outdo the other in the giving of pleasure. Amanda used every trick Rebecca had taught her, plus a few conjured up by her own rather well-developed imagination. Rebecca wrapped her arms around the darker woman like she was a buoy in turbulent waters. She felt as if she could drown in the warm, moist mouth that was even now devouring her whole. Licks....bites...nails.... lips....tongue... the whole body was an instrument of pleasure and sweet torture. Soon Rebecca's breath was coming in short, hot pants as Amanda buried herself deep into her lover's most secret place. Her tongue wrought the most exquisite feelings of falling through an abyss of sensation. With a last cry of release, Rebecca relaxed her hips which had been straining upward to meet Amanda's mouth and fingers.

Amanda sighed deeply and laid her head on one creamy thigh, absently stroking the soft, sensitive skin. She could smell the aftermath of Rebecca's excitement and the result of her lovemaking. It was a deep musky scent which made her more excited than she already was. She felt the moisture increase between her own legs, running in drivlets between her cheeks. Amanda squirmed her way up Rebecca's body, grinding her pelvis along one of her lover's firm legs as she slid into waiting arms. She couldn't keep still. Her body craved release and worked toward that end of its own volition. Her hips rotated atop Rebecca's own and she could tell she was coating Rebecca's thigh with the juices which now flowed freely and pungently from her core. She kissed the woman beneath her deeply, sucking the very essence of life through her breath. Rebecca held to her as Amanda frantically sought to free herself from the doubts and fears which had been building all night. Only in the ecstasy of Rebecca's lovemaking could she feel safe and sure again.

Rebecca knew what it was Amanda was seeking, but also knew that the answer did not lie in her arms. She returned the love which she'd just experienced and held Amanda close to her in the aftermath, fighting back her own tears as she wiped a salty trail from her lover's face. They went to sleep holding each other, each afraid of what the morrow would bring.

******************************************

Epilogue

The next morning found Amanda restless and irritable. The day was gray to match her mood and nothing seemed to suit her. A good workout is what she needed and approached Rebecca after breakfast.

"Come up to the roof, 'Becca. We haven't sparred in ages," it almost came out as a pout and Rebecca was sorely tempted to deny the young woman just on principle. But she knew how Amanda felt, for she'd been fighting off the same feelings of impending petulance. Best if they go ahead and work it out on the roof rather than let it build and explode later.

"That's an excellent idea. Let me change and I'll see you up there." Rebecca hadn't bothered to dress before the morning meal and Amanda watched her as she seemed to float up the stairs in her billowing robe and gown. The young woman tugged on her gloves and went to retrieve her sword by the door. Flexing her shoulders in anticipation of the coming exercise, she felt better already.

Rebecca changed into trousers, braiding her long hair and tying the end with a leather thong. The green of her tunic became the reddish gold color of her hair and the fairness of her Anglo skin. By the time she arrived at their usual practice area, Amanda was swinging her sword impatiently. She could tell the girl was chafing, but would not be rushed through her own preparations.

Amanda found that just being in the fresh, crisp air, smelling the coming rain and being able to feel the breeze across her face made her feel better. She no longer felt the oppression of earlier and smiled as she watched Rebecca stretching and limbering up the muscles that had done little for days. She almost looked forward to returning to her daily lessons with the departure of the Romanies.

She was poking idly at her boots with the tip of her sword when Rebecca indicated that she was ready to begin. The women circled each other tentatively at first. Rebecca made the first move, as it had been quite awhile since they'd sparred and Amanda seemed to be preoccupied and more inclined toward the defensive, even if this had been her idea. Slowly the exercise took on the routine of their past practices and Amanda began the deliberate, yet agile moves Rebecca had come to recognize as her hallmark. Just as the young woman thought she had the advantage, slowly backing Rebecca up toward the wall, the older woman twisted around, sliding her sword up Amanda's blade and to one side, and the same time spinning her opponent around in front of her, so that she stopped with her arm across Amanda's throat, her sword trapped between them.

"Enough" she laughed and released the dark head which also seemed to find the situation in which she'd been caught a bit on the humorous side.

"I think you could have won," Amanda teased.

"Maybe." Rebecca inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment of her victory.

"What now? More books?"

Amanda began picking up her sheath and sliding the blade back in its resting place. She stopped when Rebecca didn't answer immediately, noting the hesitation in the older woman.

"No. No more books, no more lessons. I've done as much as I can." Rebecca faced her student squarely, ready for what was to come next.

"What are you saying?" <There she goes with that bottom lip>, Rebecca paused to notice.

"That I have no more to teach you, Amanda. It's time you were on your own."

"No! There's more to learn. I'm not ready." Amanda's voice rose with the alarm she was trying desperately to suppress. This wasn't happening.

"Yes, there *is* more to learn...and places you must go and...and I can't take you there." Did Amanda know how much her heart was breaking at this moment?

"But, you've been like a sister to me. If it were not for you..."

"It would have been someone else," Rebecca finished.

"How can I leave you?" The tears were streaming freely now and Amanda made no effort to hide them.

"Because you must." Rebecca turned away with a finality that cut through Amanda like the sword in her hand.

*************************************

Amanda remained on the roof for over an hour, thinking about Rebecca's words and trying to decide exactly what she wanted to do about them. What would she do? Where would she go? Then, as despair was about to win its battle with her soul, she thought of the gypsies. She thought about Josef and Rosalind and how they had become like the parents she never had. She thought about Carlo and the warm glow that seemed to spread through her legs and upward when he looked at her with smoldering, dark eyes. Was Rebecca right? Did she need to leave now and learn her lessons elsewhere? With a heavy sigh, she rose from where she'd been squatting, looking over the parapets onto the lands of Caer Wydyr. The hills and woods she knew by heart. Her calves protested at the cruel use of them and she winced slightly as she picked up her sword and headed for the stairs.

She walked into their bedchamber and stopped just inside the door. This room where they had shared love and laughter. Where she had learned what it meant to trust another...and herself. How could she leave this place she wondered again. The room was lit with the soft glow of candles. Amanda walked over to the podium which held the large book she'd touched in awe when first finding herself under Rebecca's care. She could read it now and did so silently. It was a fifth century manuscript translated from ancient Irish by the monks.

"I invoke the seven daughters of the sea
Who fashion the threads of the sons of long life.
May three deaths be taken from me.
May seven waves of good fortune be dealt to me.
May no evil spirits harm me on my circuit.
In flashing corselet without hindrance
May my fame not perish.
May old age come to me, may death not come
to me till I am old.

I invoke Senach of the seven periods of time.
Whom fairy women have reared on the
breasts of plenty.
May my seven candles not be extinguished.
I am not an indestructible stronghold.
I am an unshaken rock.
I am a precious stone.
I am the luck of the week.
May I live a hundred time a hundred years.
Each hundred of them apart.
I summon their boons to me.
May the grace of Her Spirit be upon me." -2

Tears welled up, stinging her eyes and making them appear almost black. Amanda looked up from the tome at a noise across the room. Rebecca was puttering around in the large chest in which she kept her valuables. Amanda knew the chest and its contents well. When she turned to face her, Amanda's eyes widened at the object laying cradled in her two hands. Rebecca removed the cloth wrapped object from its small, round, metal box.

"This is older than immortals. Older than time itself," Rebecca spoke as if reciting a mantra learned long ago. "Keep it always and remember." She held out a piece of the crystal out, but Amanda put her hands behind her back obstinately.

Rebecca reached for her left arm, pulling a hand from its hiding place and putting the crystal in it. She gently folded the long, delicate fingers over the treasure so that Amanda was clasping it firmly. She forced herself to look into Amanda's eyes which were bright with tears. Slowly Amanda raised her other hand to cover the one holding the crystal and spoke.

"I will honor it and you always, Rebecca. I know what you said up on the roof is true and I've decided where to go." Rebecca smiled sadly and knew what was coming.

"You're going with the gypsies aren't you?" But it wasn't a question.

Rebecca reached for the woman whom she'd held so many times with the love of a teacher, a sister...a lover. They stood there locked in each other's arms for some time before Rebecca stepped back and took Amanda's face in her hands.

"I wager if you move it, you can catch up with the caravan before nightfall."

Amanda searched the face she loved so well, looking for some sign of resentment or rancor. Finding nothing but acceptance, love and encouragement, she started a small smile which quickly became an open grin of excitement. Rebecca returned the look and remembered what it was like in the beginning, when she knew she had eternity to explore, travel and learn the secrets the world had to offer. To be young and aching for adventure. She knew Amanda would return one day, but for now she accepted the requirements of the time. She wanted to be with her, but also wanted her to grow to her fullest potential first. It was her destiny. And Rebecca knew she had time on her side.

the end!!

================================================================

".. The robb'd that smiles, steals something from the thief." W. Shakespeare

2 - "The Celtic Tradition" by Caitlin Matthews

The Tuatha de Danaan - In my universe, Rebecca becomes immortal in approximately 1700 BC when the Tuatha de Danaan, or tribe of the goddess Danu, arrived in Ireland to defeat the Fir Bolgs (men of Bolg), a pre-Aryan race coming from the area of Iberia. It is believed that the Tuatha de Danaan originated from the northern isles of Greece where they had learned all forms of arts of magic. They eventually were vanquished by the Milesians, after which they retired to the Otherworld, becoming the Sidhe (pronounced 'shay') or faery folk of legend. -3

3 - From "British & Irish Mythology" by John and Caitlin Matthews

****************************

---

BACK | HOME | LINKS | EMAIL