The Orthodox Outlaw

The Gang

Clarastella opened her eyes. Someone was shaking her gently.

She jumped slightly when she saw a woman with darkish skin, green eyes and dark brown hair sitting beside her.

'Morning,' she said cheerfully, 'I'm Lucky Larkspur. Sorry to wake you up, but were you hungry? We're all having breakfast now.'

Clarastella was hungry, but she didn't want to meet the rest of the gang.

Lucky smiled.

'Don't worry,' she said, 'None of us bite. Most of the time. Dan did get Lochie good in a wrestling match once, though.'

Lucky's smile was contagious, and Clarastella found herself smiling back against her will.

'C'mon,' said Lucky, 'No one will hurt you- Thomasine will see to that.'

Clarastella found herself being led out of the tent by Lucky, not sure why she wasn't digging her heels into the ground or telling Lucky to stop.

'Here we are,' said Lucky, leading Clarastella to an extinguished campfire with a group of rough men and women sitting around it, 'The rest of the gang. You've met Cruz and Thomasine, and then there's Bucky Brooks, Jaqueline Johnson, Neddy Neilson, Martha Myles, Daniel Dumont, Will Wentworth, Clem Clark and my brother, Lachie Larkspur.'

Bucky Brooks, an African American man with a warm smile took Clarastella by the hand and had her seated beside him before she could stop him. Martha Myles pressed a hot tin mug of tea into Clarastella's hands with a smile and a:

'Drink, Mo Daor.'

Clarastella was reluctant to take food and drink from this gang, but she felt hungry... and cold...

Clarastella sipped the tea, and its warmth instantly made her relax. She drank, letting the tea warm her, comfort her.

A sandy coloured mongrel dog wandered up to her, laying its head in her lap. Clarastella wrinkled her nose in disgust- not only did the dog probably have fleas, but it was missing a leg as well. The dog seemed unconcerned at her dislike for him and began to nestle its snout into her dress.

'I apologize, young lady, but it seems my dog has taken a liking to you."

Clarastella looked up to see a man with a pleasant, gentlemanly smile. He had light brown hair, hazel eyes and smooth stubble on his face.

'Will Wentworth," the man said pleasantly, 'you must be our newest recruit. Clarastella, I believe. Don't worry, we aren't the thugs we look like on the outside.'

'Save it, Will," said a blonde man in a French accent, 'You're the only gentleman you'll find around these parts.'

'Just because you are a hooligan doesn't mean all of us are, Dan.' Will said mildly, with just a hint of a smile.

The other men laughed rowdily, while the women nodded, because as Clarastella was to discover, Will had made a fair point.

Will laid a hand on Clarastella's shoulder.

'Don't be afraid, dear girl,' he whispered, 'You may end up with enemies within this gang, but you will have many friends as well.'

The warmth of Will's hand on Clarastella's shoulder gave her courage.

"I'm Lachie Larkspur," said Lucky's brother, holding out his hand for Clarastella to shake, "I believe you've met my sister."

Lachie was the male equivalent of his sister. Green eyes, dark skin, dark hair. And that charming smile.

The blonde man who Will had called Dan swaggered over.

"I'm Daniel Dumont," he said with a toss of his head, in his strong French accent, "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Clarastella was about to reply, when an African American woman shoved him out the way.

"Oh, don't try to seduce this innocent girl, Dan," she said, and smiled at Clarastella, "I'm Jaqueline Johnson, who unfortunately has been courting this idiot for five years." Jaqueline gestured to Daniel.

"She loves me." Said Daniel, trying to play with Jaqueline's hair and getting a sharp slap on the hand.

"Of course, I love you." Said Jaqueline, "To the moon and back, just like five years ago."

"Aww, those two lovebirds," said Bucky, pushing Jaqueline and Daniel aside, "So anyway, I'm Bucky, nice to meet you. This is my best pal, Clem Clark." Bucky pulled a pale young man with light mousy hair and dark eyes over.

"HimynameisClem." He said, shyly, almost inaudibly, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else but there.

Clarastella smiled kindly at him, and Clem blushed and hid his face in Bucky's shoulder.

"He's painfully shy, poor lad," explained Bucky, "nineteen and can't even muster the courage to go into town."

Martha Myles stepped forward. She was in her early twenties and had golden-red hair and green eyes.

"Hello, Clarastella, I'm Martha," she said in an Irish accent, "It's just lovely to meet you."

Something about Martha's smile seemed forced.

"I'm Neddy Neilson," said an African American man, not getting up from where he sat, "Hi."

Neddy's voice was soft and warm, like sunshine on a day when you were chilled to the bone.