Zingaros was a very proud Rom, leader of his familia who's numbers reached nearly thirty counting children. Always Zinagaros familia had stayed a very close knit large group that formed their own campania. It was not without reason they where a proud familia, for as many generations as could be recalled Zingaros familia raised the finest horses in all of France. Such at least was the belief of the familia in any case.

Their finely bred Percheron's had been carefully bred and trained for very difficult tasks. Each new generation born into the familia was expected to memorize the exact breeding line for every horse in the for campania for at least the past ten generations no matter what their duty in the campania was.

Perhaps it was that very pride that eventually lead to the massacre of nearly the entire campania by french soldiers. Zingaros had refused to move the campania into hiding farther from the great city of Paris and it's cruel laws. Zingaros believed that their worth as expert horse trainers would protect them, that somehow they would be spared. Perhaps to valuable as breeders and trainers of the gadji's precious war horses. At least that is what Shoshoraya Cheres grandmother had told her in whispers.

Chere could not say for sure, she had been just shy of two years old when the campania had been massacred their prize horses "confiscated". It was a miracle that they had lived to hear Shoshoraya tell the story. Chere had been away with her grandparents with several mares and their lead stallion visiting another campania. They had gone to stud out the stallion and offer a choice of mares for sell when the soldiers had come.

The details of just what they found on their return Chere was never told, only that no others had survived. Perhaps it was guilt that drove Zingaros to lead his two remaining familia and remaining horses not to join another campania. Instead he lead them to find a remote area and founded a small ranch far from the nearest town.

For Sixteen years Chere was raised alone by her grandparents with only the horses for companionship. Having no heirs and unable to father any more Zingaros had spent those years teaching Chere all he knew about horses. Their training, breeding and the history and lineage for their prized line. Till by the time Chere reached her sixteenth summer when Zingaros felt her ready he turned over Zor the lead stallion to Chere who had trained him.

In sharp contrast Chere was also raised with a strict eye to Romani law, at least the law as Zingaros saw it. He meant well surely, but over the years had ingrained in Chere a deep fear of Clergy and most soldiers. She had little experience in social situations and none in matters of romance. She had never even been kissed though Zingaros spoke at length of finding her a suitable Rom that would pay a proper bride price for her.

Midway through her seventeenth year Zingaros had died suddenly when his heart succumbed to one to many brandy's. She buried Shashoraya few months later after a very long bout with the croup. Left alone Chere had tried hard for a 2 more months to survive and run the small ranch. Eventually though she was forced to travel to the nearest town in search of supplies.

The first time Chere ventured into the nearest town the local merchant had immediately questioned Chere at length about Zingaros where abouts and why she had come in his place. She tried to avoid the questions but the merchant knew Zingaros well enough to know he would never allow his Romni to travel alone. The merchant seeing a chance for great profit claimed Zingaros owed him large amounts of coin presenting forged papers that Chere could not read and demanding payment. Zingaros had warned her a Romani no matter who they where would never be believed over a gadji.

When a week later a group of armed men aproached the small ranch Chere was prepaired at least in part for them. Her grandfather had warned her with his last breaths that the gadji would come and take the horses and do unspeakable things to her if they caught her alone.

Chere was not sure what unspeakable things he meant but took his words to heart. She had gelded all the stallions except her own lead stallion Zor and fed a herbal elixir that Zingaros had used to make what he saw as inferior mares infertile to all but the two finest mares.

Warned when the dogs she had housed up the single cleared path to the ranch began to bark and do their best to chase away the soldiers Chere wasted no time putting her plan into action. She first freed all but Zor and the two fertile mares and sent the other horses scattering into the forest. Next she soaked the floors of the house and stable hastily with lamp oil and set it all ablaze.

Imagine their surprise when by the time they cleared the dogs, calmed their horses and arrived at the ranch. The house and stables where engulfed in flames and the horses all where gone. Enraged most the men immediately headed after the horses she released into the forest none of which where very cooperative with these strangers. Chere herself along with her few coins, meager belongings, Zor and the fertile mares where long gone before the men realised she was missing.

Chere had no idea where she was going or what her future held but she kept moving undaunted if terribly afraid. For three and a half months she had traveled with her horses while the days grew shorter and the winter came as it inevitably does. The merchant had put out a reward and rumors of an unnamed romni girl and her trickery spread as rumors do, especially those involving money. She stayed as much as she could to the forests avoiding towns, thieves and soldiers alike as best she could.

As a romni Chere knew nothing of weapons even if she had one and desperation lead her to find out that Zor loved to hunt. The massive stallion seemed not to care if his hooves crushed human skulls or that of a deer, in fact he seemed to enjoy the chase of hunting deer and elk greatly. In part this had saved not only Chere but the horses, allowing her to sell extra meat and leather to remote homesteads though never staying long.

When at last she reached the great holdings of the Templar Knight desperation and the stubbornness to survive and protect her horses in ever growing cold won over her fears. It was with an a very cautious eye that she entered the holdings and lead her horses to the stables seeking shelter and work.....

To Be Continued?