THE ALTERED COURSE

BY:  ROSE CARR

CHAPTER SEVEN

The clouds had disappeared and the sun was shining brightly by the time Javert and Richelleen reached the area where the makeshift camp had been set up. The place was deserted, no sign of anyone having been there was visible. Richelleen knew immediately that something had gone terribly wrong for them to all leave. She also knew her father would have left her a sign of some kind to follow. She swung down off her horse and headed for the nearest group of trees.

Javert dismounted from Liberte and followed behind her. "Where do you think they could have gone, and what is it you are looking for?" he asked her, as he watched her searching the thick carpet of grass beneath her feet.

"My father would have left me a sign," she said.

"A sign?" he said, looking puzzled. "What kind of sign?"

"We use signs..... markers, that let others left behind know where we have gone," she explained. "Look! There!" she said, pointing at a small mound of rocks grouped together near the base of a large tree. Squatting down she ran her fingers lightly over the rocky formation explaining it's meaning to Javert.. "The slight outcropping here is pointing southeast, that tells me the direction they have gone. The pattern tells me that there has been trouble at the main camp. "I have to go to them Javert," she said turning to look at him, her dark brows knitting together in worry, "they may need my help."

He had noticed her wan complexion when he had returned to the flat that afternoon and was more than a little concerned about her. She had not complained, so he did not want to let her know how worried he was about her. As they walked back to where the horses were nibbling the dark green grass he thought of what he might say to get her to rest before they rode the long distance back to her father's camp. Coming to a stop beside the horses he said, "It is too late to start back to the camp today Richelleen. Perhaps we should go back home to rest. We can gather some of the things you might need and leave early in the morning. That will also give me a chance to notify my superiors that I need to be gone for a short while."

"Javert, you don't have to go with me, I can...." she began, her words trailing off as she saw his arms lock across his chest and the blue grey eyes grow dark as thunder clouds. In that instant she knew he would not be swayed. Tread lightly here she told herself, he can be as stubborn as you are when his mind is made up. Richelleen hated to admit it, but she did feel tired and a little weak. This irritated her greatly as she was never ill, and did not know how to deal with it. She accepted his hand up to get in the saddle and sat quietly, waiting for him to mount Liberte. "You are right of course Javert, I have not been feeling well the past few days, and at this late hour it would be foolish to ride out. We would do better to leave in the morning." Reigning the horses around they turned back to Paris.

Upon arriving at the small flat, Javert stoked the fire in the little black stove and brewed some tea for them both. Making sure she was comfortable, he said he had some errands to run and left for a short while. Richelleen was flustered and a little uncomfortable at his attention. She was after all a healer, and used to taking care of herself. She was the one who looked after everyone. Being on the receiving end of care giving was not something she was used to, or something she was even sure she liked. Curling her legs up under her she sat in the chair by the window, sipping her tea. Staring out into the street, waiting for Javert to return, she let her mind wander. What might she find when they returned to her father's camp, where was Roland...

A soft knock at the door brought her out of her reverie, then she heard Javert's voice calling out for assistance. Jumping up from her chair she walked to the door and opened it. Javert stood in the doorway holding a large covered bowl with a baguette of fresh bread wrapped in paper under one arm, and a brown cloth shopping bag hanging from the other.

"Javert," she said, taking the bread and shopping bag from him, "you have been shopping! What all do you have here?"

"Vegetable soup," he said with a shy smile, "and it is very good. Madame Flaubert is an excellent cook. Also I have some pears, a block of Brie and the piece de resistance, a small bottle of wine."

"It smells wonderful," she said, as she laid the food and wine down on the table. Richelleen set the table with two of the plain bowls she had found in the cupboard along with two glasses and two large battered soup spoons. They sat down to eat and Richelleen realized with the first bite she took that she was starving!

"This soup is excellent," she said as she reached for the baguette of bread and tore off a large hunk and dipped it in the soup. "She is indeed a good cook," she said around a mouthful of bread and soup, "did she make the bread as well?"

As Javert opened the wine and poured them each a glass, he watched her eat. He was delighted to see her enjoying her meal with such a great deal of ...well..gusto! She must be feeling much better he thought, for it was certain that her appetite had returned. "Yes, the soup is good, but no she did not bake the bread. I picked it up from the bakery on my way back from the Police Post."

. "Oh yes," she said, "you were going to ask for some time off. What did they say?"

"I explained to them that I needed a few days to take care of personal business," Javert began. "Since I never took any time off before, this request caused quite a stir amongst my peers. I was surprised when they actually questioned me about what personal business I might have."

"Truly?" she said "They asked you why you wanted time off? What did you tell them?"

Javert smiled as he said, "I did not offer any other explanation and when I left them, they were gossiping like old women in the square. The time off however, was granted, we can leave at first light."

After finishing their meal Richelleen cleared the few dishes off the table and got an iron tub down from the hook on the wall. Javert carried a small tea kettle from the stove that held hot water and poured some in the tub to wash them. Working together it did not take long for them to complete their chores. Javert took the tub of water outside to empty it as Richelleen got ready for bed. Taking off her skirt and blouse, she slipped out of her camisole and slid in between the covers. Javert returned, hung the tub on the hook and checked the fire in the stove. He blew out the lamp before he undressed and got into bed. Richelleen did not think she would get much sleep as worried as she was about the unknown situation in her father's camp. But lying in his strong arms, feeling so warm and safe, she slept soundly. She did not wake until she felt Javert gently shaking her shoulder, telling her it was time to go.

Getting out of bed Richelleen felt the strange queasiness again and decided to brew a cup of fennel tea, as the peppermint she had used before did not seem to quell her uneasy stomach. It must be worry that was causing her stomach problems she thought. Hopefully when things were sorted out, her illness would clear up. She had time to drink two cups of tea while they packed the few things she needed and left for the stables. It was not yet light as they made their way through the quiet streets of the sleeping city. Once they were on the open road they turned southwest towards the camp. She felt better with the cool morning wind on her face and settled in for the long ride.

Javert had not missed Richelleen's discomfort when she had awakened. Although she looked fine now, he vowed to watch her closely as they rode to her father's camp. He made up his mind to ask Andre or perhaps her friend Adele if they knew what might be ailing her.

***

Roland didn't know what he was doing sitting here in St. Germaine's in front of Father Verchese. He had always had a low opinion of priests, regarding them at best a sanctimonious lot, and at worst driveling interfering do-gooders. He had come to him for help though, of his own free will, and knew he had to talk to someone or lose his mind. Roland began by telling the Father his feelings for Richelleen and some of the things that had transpired during the last few months. Father Verchese sat in his chair, his fingers steepled together and listened intently to the young man's story before he spoke. "Roland, from what you have told me, your problem is not the with the young woman you say you love, but this terrible obsession for her that you have failed to understand and control. What you must not continue to do, is keep dreaming about her in any kind of romantic fashion. It is obvious from what you have said that she will never regard you in the way she would a husband. Consider what has happened as a harsh lesson on your way to becoming a complete man. When you finally meet the woman destined to be your wife, you will understand that your feelings towards her have been misplaced."

Roland's shoulders were bent as if the load of the world lay on them. "It is easy for me to say I will not fill my head with dreams of her Father, but not so easy for me to do it. I cannot forget her. I cannot forget the things I have done to her and how they affected not just her, but everyone I hold dear to me."

"I did not say you should forget her Roland," Father Verchese said, "but you must change the way you think of her. You must also change the way you think of yourself. Stay with us awhile. Take some time to pray and meditate, then we will talk again. If you like, you can do some work for us, We can only pay you a small amount, but the church can always use a skilled silversmith like you. Sometimes work helps to calm the spirit and pass the time. The decision to stay however, is yours." He got up, patted Roland on the back and left the room, leaving Roland to mull over the things they had talked about.

***

Javert and Richelleen arrived at the camp in the late evening. Both could tell at a glance that a fierce fight had taken place. A few of the wagons had been damaged, one of them being Richelleen's. Javert was surprised that she gave her home no more than a cursory glance as they rode into the inner circle of the camp. Richelleen," Javert began, "I am so sorry that your home has been badly damaged. Does this not distress you?"

"Yes, of course it does," she said, "but it can be repaired or replaced. Please, do not worry about it. We will have time to check on my wagon later."

Javert started to say more, but at that moment they heard Andre's voice, and saw him running over to meet them.

"Richelleen, Monsieur Javert!" Andre cried out as he saw them. "We are glad you are here! Come Richelleen, there are some wounded who may still need your attention. Monsieur Javert, would you be so kind as to help the men in their tasks?" Javert got down off of Liberte just as Gaspar came into the circle around the campfire.

Richelleen slid down off her mare and grabbed the big tapestry bag that held her medicines. "What took place here, who attacked the camp?"

"We were attacked by the same band of filthy thieves who ambushed Armond and Roland, but we took care of them! We even captured one of the animals," Gaspar said proudly.

"Did you question them, find out why they attacked you and what they wanted?" Javert asked Gaspar.

"They want anything they can get their hands on and killing means nothing to them," Gaspar spat out.

"May I see him, the man you captured?" Javert asked. "Perhaps we can get some information on the rest of his men. I can contact the local police and have them arrest him."

"The police, arrest someone for attacking a Gypsy camp?" Gaspar snorted. "Please Monsieur... but.... if you want to see the swine, come with me."

Richelleen walked with her father from wagon to wagon attending to the wounded. It was not as bad as she thought. Adele and Simone had both done good jobs dressing wounds and administering medicines. She was proud of them.

"Things were handled well Papa," Richelleen said, "I could not have done better myself."

"Yes," Andre said, "everyone was ready, and not one person was lost. Gaspar showed himself tobe a real leader, he organized the camp when some of our scouts reported that they had seen this band of renegades in the area. He has really matured my daughter, and I have been thinking he may be the one to succeed me."

Smiling at her father's enthusiasm, Richelleen was happy to hear that he had singled out Gaspar. The young man had indeed shown intelligence and courage in defending his people. Perhaps he was the one who was to be the next leader. For her father's peace of mind, she certainly hoped so. As she walked by a clearing between two wagons she saw Javert and Gaspar standing beside a scruffy, hard looking man. The man was lashed to a chair and they appeared to be questioning him. Hearing the approach of footsteps, Javert turned to see who it was.

"Richelleen," Javert said trying to block her view, "perhaps you should not be here."

"Richelleen?" the scruffy man said, leering at her. "I know you, you were Armond's woman, and you must be real special 'cause it is said that Roland killed him so he could have you."

"That is a filthy lie, you pig," Gaspar shouted angrily slapping the man hard across the face, his hand poised for another blow, when he felt a strong hand grasp his arm.

"Don't!" Javert said, blocking the young man from hitting the seated robber again. "That is not necessary." Gaspar glared at him, but did not attempt to strike the seated man again.

Richelleen looked stricken, "What do you mean, saying that about Roland and Armond? My husband died at your people's hands, during an attack," she said.

"Think what ever you like," the robber rasped out, wiping a trickle of blood away from his mouth with the back of his tied hands, "we saw Roland go down to the overturned wagon and kneel beside your husband, talking to him, so he must of been alive then. We heard the retort of a gun as we had turned to ride away when we heard your people riding in. We may have ran the wagon off the road, but we did not kill him."

Richelleen trembled, her dark eyes brimming with unshed tears, as she stared in undisguised disgust at the seated man. Javert saw her start to sway as her knees buckled. Slowly she started to fall downward, winding up a curled heap on the ground.

"Richelleen," he cried as he quickly crossed the space between them. Bending down, he picked her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing. "Gaspar, where can I take her?" he shouted. "She needs immediate attention!"

"This way, to Adele's," Gaspar said, running out in front of him to lead the way. Adele was waiting outside her wagon when Javert arrived with Richelleen in his arms. He carried her up the steps and to the bed, gently laying her down.

"Madam Adele, she just fainted, do you know what might be wrong with her?" an ashen faced Javert asked her.

"She will be fine Monsieur - you men get out of here and let me tend to her, go on....get out...give her some air to breathe." She shooed them out, promising to let them know something as soon as possible.

Adele loosened Richelleen's clothes and propped some pillows behind her. About ten minutes went by before Richelleen opened her eyes. Putting her hand to her head, she looked up and saw Adele. "How did I get here," she said, trying to sit up. "The last thing I remember is that awful man outside saying horrible things about Roland."

"Ach...he is a thief without any honor and most likely a liar too! Do not give him another thought Richelleen. Here," she said, handing her a cup of steaming tea. "drink this. It will calm your nerves."

Watching her drink the tea, Adele tried to remember if she had ever seen or heard of Richelleen fainting before. She had known her most of her life and knew her to be a strong healthy woman, not at all prone to fainting. Sitting on the side of the bed Adele said, "Do you feel up to answering a few questions?"

Richelleen shrugged her shoulders and said, "Sure Adele, what is it you want to know?"

"A few of them will be very personal questions," Adele said.

"Adele!" Richelleen said a little impatiently, "ask your questions."

"Have you been suffering from an upset stomach lately?" Adele asked.

"I have had a nervous stomach the past few days," Richelleen said, "nothing serious."

"Let me ask you this, have you had the curse this past month?"

Richelleen thought and slowly her eyes widened as she looked at Adele, comprehension flooding her body. "No, Adele," she said, "it couldn't be. All those years with Armond and I never.....! No, it is not possible."

A wicked little smile played over Adele's face as she said, "From what I have heard Richelleen, it is quite possible, unless of course, what I have heard is wrong?"

"Adele!" Richelleen exclaimed. "Since when have you listened to gossip?"

"Only gossip Richelleen?" Adele asked, her brown eyes twinkling with merriment.

"Oh....all right," Richelleen said sighing deeply, "it is possible. It...... it is just something I never thought would happen to me. I am over 30 for goodness sake. I thought the time for having children had passed me by. A fine healer I am," she said, running her fingers through her dark curly hair, "not recognizing symptoms like mine. What am I going to do now?"

"Well, first of all I should think you would want to tell Monsieur Javert," Adele said. "He has a right to know."

"Mon Dieu...tell Javert! We have been together such a short time. I am not at all sure how he will react to news like this."

"I do not know Monsieur Javert very well Richelleen, but from what I have seen of him, he seems to be a fine decent man. I do not think you have cause to worry about what his reaction to this news might be. Besides, I think a man of his age should welcome such news."

"Perhaps you are right Adele," Richelleen said, "I should talk to him......as soon as possible."

"He is waiting outside right now Richelleen, and he has been very worried about you. Shall I send him in?" Reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze, Adele said, "It will be all right mon aime, I promise. Amour fait tout."

Richelleen squeezed her hand back, giving her a nervous little smile. Taking a deep breath she said, "Please ask him to come in. I suppose I may as well get this over with."

Adele stood up from the side of the bed and walked to the door. "Monsieur Javert," she called out as she opened the door, "you may come in now."

Javert walked up the steps past Adele. "Thank you Madame," he said as he passed her in the doorway.

Putting her hand on his shoulder Adele whispered to him, "She is fine Monsieur, please do not worry."

Andre started up the steps but was stopped when Adele put a hand on his chest. "Not now Andre," she said, "those two have some things to talk over."

Andre started to protest but Adele cut him off saying, "Now, now do not fret, I promise you she is well. You can see her later, for now let us give them a few moments alone."

Andre backed off, muttering to himself. He knew he would not have much more luck winning an argument with Adele then he would with his daughter. Women, he thought as he made his way back to his wagon, who was running this camp anyway?

Javert stood nervously at the foot of the bed, only moving nearer when Richelleen patted a place beside her saying, "I am fine, really. Come, sit beside me.... please."

He walked over to her and gingerly sat down beside her, taking her small hand in his. "Richelleen," he said, "I have been so worried about you, how are you feeling now? Do you have any idea as to why you fainted?"

"Javert," she said smiling wistfully and reaching up to smooth his hair back, "I do not know how else to say this, so I will come right out with it. I am going to have a baby.....our baby." She heard a sharp intake of breath and felt him stiffen, his hand tightening around hers. Swallowing a little, she looked directly into those clearly worried eyes. There was much to see in their richly colored depths, tenderness, compassion and.... shock! Oh my heavens, she thought, maybe I should not have blurted it out like that. "Javert," she said, not sure she had heard him start to breathe again, "are you all right? Please Mon Cher, say something!"

to be continued. . .

© 1997 Rose Carr

Contact the author:Rosematuse@aol.com

Home