Complicated

This is a continuation of 'Perspective'. This portion of the whole story will focus on Nokonis, the 2nd in command of the Coven, and the ups and downs that come with the desire to share the Dark Gift. Please read and review!!! Reviews are more precious to me than air...they are my lifes blood, my sustenance..in short, if you dont how can I tell if I am going in the right direction with this?

Rossanna was born in Rome in 1510, to a well to do merchant family with much political clout and influence. She led a charmed life, one might say, for the first 16 years of her life. Her family was wealthy and already in the political area so there was no reason for her to be married off immediately for the usual rationalities of the time. Her time was her own, and she spent much of it on horseback.

She also had a passion for hunting and seemed to always have possession of a bow and quiver. Being the only girl, her brothers would tease her mercilessly about her taste in pastimes, saying she was perhaps better suited to the gentler labors of the female aristocracy instead of donning men’s clothing and riding about the countryside with her bow and arrows or a sling like she was Attila the Hun or some ancient Amazon queen.

Rossanna paid her brothers little mind knowing that anytime they went hunting, she would have an open invitation to join them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a brisk day in the fall 1527, when such a hunting excursion occurred. She and two of her four brothers went out for grouse, promising their parents that they would be back long before nightfall. The day started out normal enough, the three of them riding in the woods swapping jokes and insults as siblings do. They knew these woods, they had grown up in these woods; they knew every tree and shrub and flower that grew there.

They numbered a dozen, hidden in the woods, mere feet from a well worn path; biding their time until precisely the right moment. They knew that Rossanna and her brothers often came here to hunt and sometimes to just ride. They also knew that Rossanna would fetch a high price with the outlying tribes with red hair and blue eyes. Even the most superstitious of the tribes would pay top Lira for her rare beauty.

The bandits didn’t have to wait long. Dominic and Michel were in the lead, charging right on through unaware of the danger. Rossanna was taking up the rear. Her horse began acting strangely, shaking its head and side stepping, sending Rossanna mixed messages. Rossanna trusted her mount’s instincts but wasn’t able to decipher the signs the animal was sending her….until it was too late.

The men allowed the two brothers to pass them unharmed, waiting for Rossanna to come into range. Six of the twelve men lunged out of the woods toward Rossanna, causing her horse to rear up and paw at the air. Rossanna, unable to keep her grip on the horse, began to fall. She never hit the ground. Instead she was bound, gagged and put inside a large canvas sack before she could even cry out to her brothers for help. She continued to struggle, and heard and felt her heeled boot connect with one of her captors’ stomachs. She heard the man curse as her heel hit home and the raucous laughter that followed.

“She’s a lively one. She’ll fetch a higher price in Istanbul, where no has ever heard of her. Perhaps even Mehmet the Conqueror himself will buy her, he is known for his tastes in exotic ones. The signorina should be to his liking, if he doesn’t find her too long in the tooth that is…my uncle says that the Sultan usually prefers them a bit younger.”

With this, Rossanna was paralyzed with fear…unable to breath, to move. ‘Istanbul?!?!?!’ her mind screamed, ‘I have got to find a way out of this!!!!’ She had heard the stories of this Sultan and sent a silent prayer to Proserpine that she die before reaching the hands of the Ottoman. She made up her mind. She would no longer fight, but bide her time and hopefully with her cooperation, the gypsy men would undo her bindings.

She felt herself being trussed up and thrown over her own saddle. Well if nothing else she would not have to fear for her innocence, true virgins were worth their weight in gold. She tried to get comfortable for a bone jarring ride. She said a silent prayer to Juno to keep her brothers safe, alive, and vigilant….

~~~~~~~~~~

They rode on for what seemed to Rossanna an eternity of bumps and bruises, before finally coming to a stop. Through the canvas, Rossanna could see the sun fading away, finally leaving her in total darkness. She heard her captors dismount one by one, grunting as they too were saddle weary. Moments later she felt several pairs of hands lift her off her own horse and remove her from her scratchy shroud. She is grateful, but cautious. She isn’t sure if her legs will hold her or if she should even hope that they will allow her the smallest privacy. Bouncing on her stomach for hours had made other needs quite pressing.

Rossanna does her best to tell the men through her gag. After a few tries, they finally catch on with a great resounding laugh and free her of her bounds. The leader ties a length of rope around her neck like a leash and sets her stumbling off into some brush a short distance away.

With the light of day completely gone, Rossanna shuffles slowly into the thicket, feeling her way with her still numb hands. A quick yank on the rope tells her that she has gone as far as she was going to go. She backed up about three paces and turned around. Looking to see any sign of her “warden” before relieving her need.

Using the rope as her guide she retraced her steps back to the makeshift camp and her captors. She was passed a stale chunk of bread and a small skin of warm ale. She ate in silence not trusting herself to speak, her throat raw from the swallowing the stale bread and bitter drink. She instead lies down and attempts to find sleep, not wanting the day to continue…….