“Two comely wenches for the taking, even if they are gypsies,” Sir Roland snickered, his breath sour. “I wager one for his lordship, and one for us.”

Nausea spurted through her limbs. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. She endured his lewd insults. Somehow she would get through this, save Yolanda, and get back to her tribe.

Daj, I will reclaim your honor, she vowed to the empty sky. You begged and groveled to the gadje your entire life. The English are not one of us. They are strangers. In death you will stand tall, and have a proper funeral and burial. Yolanda will be safe.

Valentina gripped her bound fingers into the horse’s heavy mane. She was not ready to fall and be trampled to death.

There must be another way to escape. These cruel men would not stop them. Nothing could stop a Romany woman’s determination.

She and her sister would return before the spirits became enraged and they were cursed.
* * *