“I want you to cover my back.” Konstantine handed his brother the bottle and gestured down to the encampment in the valley below. “I’m going to take the Gypsy girl.” “We’re not supposed to mess with the Gypsies.” Oleg took a long pull of vodka. “Remember? It is written. Any woman is ours for the plucking, but not those zalupa Romanies.” Konstantine bared his sharp white teeth in what passed for a grin. “And I wonder why that is.” The Varinski family had no rules. No rules at all. They could do what they wanted rape, pillage, torture, murder and no one could stop them. But one ancient law existed. They were not to take a Gypsy woman. “Gypsies are filthy.” Oleg spft in the direction of the camp, and the warm spittle steamed as it struck the frozen ground. This autumn was as cold as a witch’s tit, with an early frost that had ruined the crops and put a hungry edge on everyone’s temper. “You’ll get a disease.” [download]
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