Binding Vows(5)

“We are so excited about being here Madame, 11



Catherine Bybee



Gypsy Queen... Ahh geeze, I’m not sure that’s right.

Is that what we should call you? Or do you have a name?”

The Gypsy’s laugh stiffened Tara’s spine more, if that was possible. The crackling sound grated down deep inside, like nails on a chalkboard. “My name is Gwen. You may call me Madame Gwen.”

She’s lying! The thought came so quickly it took her by surprise. Her name isn’t Gwen, but something similar.

Tara needed to get a better look at this woman.

She couldn’t really see well in the dimly lit room.

She pried her fingernails from the wall and moved closer to get a better look at Gwen.

Madame Gwen leaned forward, her face caught in a flicker of light for a brief moment. Her hair, gray as a winter sky, hung long, past her shoulders.

Eyes black as midnight pierced through the dark, watchful as an owl. The crater deep lines carved into her face told Tara she must be in her late eighties.

And she’s obviously never heard of Botox.

The Gypsy laughed, almost as if she heard Tara’s thoughts. “You,” she pointed to Tara. “What brings you to our fine fair? You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I’m having a fabulous time, thank you,” Tara stated with just the right amount of sarcasm. She didn’t like how Madame Gwen’s eyes dilated as she leaned toward her. It didn’t look natural.

“Your tongue speaks false, much like your dress.

Tell me, why do you try to deceive me?” Gwen sat back so only her leathered old hands could be seen.

She folded them in her lap.

Tara held her head high. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The cold crept in despite the outside heat.

“Yes, I think you do.” She dismissed them with the flick of her wrist.

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Binding Vows



Tara and Cassy headed toward the door, more than a little confused.

At the doorway, Madame Gwen followed them with her demand. “Wear your hair down, fair maiden. That would be your place while you are with us.” Tara turned around, astonished.

“Come back tomorrow,” she said, her eyes never leaving Tara’s. “I very much want to read that palm of yours.”

A smile crept over Tara’s lips. She’ll be asking for money next, she mused.

“Keep your coin. Who knows? Maybe the stars will deem you both in favor and elevate your time here.”

Tara’s mouth dropped open. Cassy nearly dragged her from the tent.

Gwen’s laughter followed them out.

They didn’t get two feet outside before Cassy clasped both her hands over Tara’s. “I told you she was legit. Wow! That was un-flippin’ believable.”

The warmth of the night found its way back into Tara’s blood stream. “She was a bit surreal.”

“You can say that again.”

Another big burly hooded guy stopped them. He said nothing, but held out his hand.

“What?” Tara asked. “You want money don’t you? I knew it!” she said to Cassy. “It’s all a ploy to extract money.”

Disappointed, Cassy reached in her purse.

“Your binding, young maiden,” he pointed to Tara’s hair.

Tara’s jaw dropped again, “How do you...? How does he know?” She reached to the leather strap holding her hair and pulled it free. “Here! But I want it back before I leave.”

Tara stormed off, unable to shake the chill settling in the pit of her stomach, or the uneasy 13



Catherine Bybee



feeling of being watched. ****

Gwen removed a strand of Tara’s hair from the binding and placed it in the cauldron. The Gypsy Queen pulled back her lips, exposing yellowed teeth.

Her piercing cackle erupted as she tossed her head back and gave in to the exhilaration of her discovery.

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Binding Vows





Chapter 2


The darkness closed in, slowing down Duncan and Finlay MacCoinnich’s speed. Riding horses hard after night fell was never wise, especially if the rider didn’t know the landscape.

Sounds and voices drifted on the night wind blowing past them. Light flickered from torches surrounding the encampment.

They rode through with barely a glance from the people. At home, they would stand out against all others. The people of the village would know them by sight and greet them with smiles and blessings.

They were brothers with less than two years between them, and were often mistaken as twins.

Duncan tugged on the reins at what stood as a stable. A young lad, dressed in a worn tunic and brown leggings, came out to help.

The first thing Duncan noticed were the boy’s shoes. He stared at them, baffled. Fin cleared his throat before Duncan managed to bring his attention back to the present, remembering why they were there.