If she should find such a person, the first thing he would ask her was what she was doing at the inn and her difficulty in answering him would arouse his suspicion.
Because once again she was thinking of herself and felt more frightened she said,
“No – no! I-I don’t mean that! Forget I – said it!”
The man beside her was still.
Then he said,
“Look at me!”
Without really meaning to, but because he spoke in a voice that seemed to force her to obey him, Tora turned her head and looked at him.
His eyes were grey and, as he looked into hers, she felt as if they penetrated down into her very soul.
Then quietly and in a different voice from the one he had used before, he asked,
“Who has frightened you and how?”
CHAPTER THREE
For what seemed a long time Tora could not find her voice.
Then with an effort she looked away from the stranger and replied,
“It is – nothing – and you have no – right to question me!”
He laughed softly.
Then he said,
“Are you saying that we have not been introduced? That is easily remedied. What is your name?”
Because she was bemused and embarrassed and still very frightened Tora answered him without thinking,
“Tora.”
As she spoke, she felt that she had given herself away. Then she remembered that nobody outside the Palace knew her as anything but Viktorina.
There was a pause before the man asked,
“Is that all?”
She nodded and he said,
“Very well, if you wish to be mysterious, I accept you as ‘Tora’ and my name is Mikloš.”
Tora knew that Mikloš, which was the Salonan name for Michael, was a very common name, but she thought somehow it suited him.
Perhaps he was what she had been looking for, an Archangel or perhaps a Knight of Chivalry to defend her and especially at this moment to kill the dragons she was so afraid of.
Almost as if he could read her thoughts and was following the fantasy in her mind, Mikloš said,
“Now we are formally introduced, suppose you tell me what is frightening you?”
Instantly her fears swept over Tora again and impulsively she turned to look up at him feeling, although it was quite illogical, that she could trust him.
Then, as it flashed through her mind that she could tell him the truth of what was happening in the inn, she heard voices in the distance and realised that they came from the direction of The Three Bells.
Instantly she was alert and knew instinctively that it would be dangerous if Prince Boris and the men with him saw her in the woods even though there was somebody with her.
There was just the chance that they might have noticed her arrive in the Carrier’s cart and, if they had, in view of what they had been doing, they might interrogate her.
Impulsively and without thinking, she turned to Mikloš,
“Quick! We must hide!”
“Why?”
“There is no time to explain,” she replied. “Get your horse and let’s run into the shelter of the trees!”
She did not wait for him to agree, but hurried through the trees behind her going deeper and deeper into the wood as she heard the voices in the distance coming nearer.
It was only as she pushed her way through the branches of the trees that were growing close together that she was aware that Mikloš was following her.
She heard the jingle of his horse’s harness and when at last Tora stopped and turned round breathless from running so fast, she found him close behind her.
He was leading his horse by the bridle and now, as he stood beside her, Tora realised with relief that there was a leafy barrier between them and the path.
Nevertheless, she could peep through it and as she did so she saw that they had hidden only just in time.
Moving in single file along the path from the inn were three horsemen and, when she was able to see the face of the man riding first, she was sure that it was Prince Boris.
He was dark with sharp features and a small moustache, which hid a cruel mouth.
One look was enough to tell her that he was a hard and ruthless type of man, whom others would look upon with fear rather than respect.
He was turning back in his saddle to speak to the men riding behind him and, although he had lowered his voice so that she could not hear what he said, there was no doubt he did not suspect that he was being observed.
As he passed, Tora wondered where the other three men had gone. Then she supposed they would think it a mistake to move about together and the others had therefore taken a different route.
Then, as she watched the last horseman pass, she had an idea.
Although Prince Boris had said, ‘the sooner we strike the better!’ he had made it clear when he had said he would see Titov tonight or tomorrow that he was not intending his coup d’état to take place at least for the next twenty-four hours.
‘That will give me a chance,’ Tora reasoned to herself, ‘to play with the Professor to the King as has been planned and to have left Salona before Prince Boris starts his revolution.’
She planned that just before she left the country or at least immediately she was safe at home, she would notify somebody in authority of what was about to happen and hoped in that way she would be in time to forestall Prince Boris in his intention to seize the Throne.
It all raced through her mind almost as if it was an inspiration from outside herself and she felt as if she had been saved at the very last moment from getting herself dangerously involved.
Of course she must not mention what was going to happen to anybody until she was no longer either the peasant girl she was pretending to be or one of the Professor’s quartet, but was again Princess Viktorina of Radoslav.
She was unable for the moment to invent some explanation of how she, the Princess, could know things that were so secret and of such vital importance to another country, but that was not immediately important.
All that mattered at the moment was that she should not be mixed up in a scandal that would horrify her father and mother and might lead to the Professor being imprisoned for aiding her escapade.
‘It is all quite clear to me now what I must do,’ she thought with relief as the noise of the horses’ hoofs died away in the distance.
She turned to smile to Mikloš and found that he was standing nearer to her than she thought, while his horse once again was free.
As she looked up into his eyes, he was looking down at her in the same penetrating manner he had done before. At the same time there was a faint smile on his lips.
“Now,” he said, “I am waiting for you to tell me why you are afraid of Prince Boris.”
“You know that is who he is?” Tora questioned.
“Of course!”
She was surprised, but then it flashed through her mind that perhaps this stranger she knew nothing about was involved with the Prince, even perhaps one of his followers.
As the thought came into her mind, Mikloš said in a very different voice that was somehow harsher,
“What does Prince Boris mean to you and why has he frightened you?”
Tora saw the expression in his eyes and she felt vaguely that it was insulting, but looking away from him she said,
“I did not say I was – frightened of him – I just did not – wish to be seen alone in the woods.”
“That was sensible,” Mikloš answered. “At the same time I think you are lying!”
Tora stiffened.
It was more than anybody would dare to do in the Palace to accuse her of such a thing.
Then to her surprise he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.
“Now tell me the truth,” he said. “What has the Prince done to you that you should be frightened of him?”
Because he was touching her as no man had ever done before Tora answered qui
ckly and truthfully,
“I have never seen him until this moment – it is just what I have heard about him.”
“But you knew that he was at the inn?”
“Yes.”
“With the two men who were with him just now?”
“I – suppose so.”
“What do you mean – you suppose so?”
Tora tried to free herself from his hands, but found that she was imprisoned.
“You have no right to – ask me questions,” she said. “It is none of your – business!”
“I have made it my business to find out why you are frightened,” Mikloš replied, “and I want an answer.”
Tora now felt that there was no point in not telling him the truth.
“I heard the Prince and his friends talking in one of the rooms at the inn,” she said, “and, because I did not wish them to think that I was spying on them, I came into the woods. I had no idea that they might ride this way.”
“You must have been aware that this path leads to Maglic?” Mikloš said.
She shook her head.
“This is the first time I have been here.”
“Then where have you come from?”
For a moment she thought it would be a mistake to tell him.
Then it seemed far more reasonable that she should be a complete stranger to the country.
“I am Radoslav,” she replied.
He smiled.
“Now I understand! You speak my language extremely well, at the same time there was just something that puzzled me. And, of course, the Radoslav women are noted for their beauty!”
Once again Tora struggled to be free and this time he released her.
“So even in Radoslav,” he said almost as if he spoke to himself, “they have heard tales of Prince Boris and you are quite right to avoid him.”
Tora thought with relief that she had escaped any more questions, but, as she peered through the trees wondering if it would be safe to return to the inn, he said,
“If you are from Radoslav, what are you doing at the inn of The Three Bells?”
There was a pause and then she decided that she should tell him the truth.
“I am with a very famous man,” she replied.
“That is what I surmised in the first place!” Mikloš replied.
Now there was a somewhat cynical note in his voice and a twisted smile to his lips.
Tora lifted her chin as if she thought that he was being impertinent and went on,
“I should be surprised if you had not heard of him, his name is Professor Lazar Srejovic and he is one of the greatest musicians in the world!”
Mikloš gave an exclamation.
“Of course I have heard of the Professor! And are you a musician who plays with him?”
“Yes,” Tora replied, “and as the Professor is to play tomorrow night for His Majesty the King, we are resting at The Three Bells before we proceed to Maglic.”
“You are playing at the Palace of Salona?” Mikloš asked.
Tora thought with a smile that she had impressed him and she hoped it would make him behave towards her with more propriety.
“His Majesty has asked the Professor,” she replied, “to bring his quartet to the Palace to play for some special guest whom he is entertaining. It is, of course, a great honour and I am looking forward to it.”
“And you are one of the Professor’s quartet?”
“I play the piano.”
“Is it possible that looking so beautiful you can still be so exceptionally talented?”
She gave a little laugh at the way he spoke and said,
“Now you are being complimentary!”
“It must be something you are used to,” Mikloš remarked, “and let me say that you were absolutely right in avoiding Prince Boris. He is a danger to all women, but especially one who looks like you!”
Tora wanted to answer that she knew that at the moment he was a danger to the King and not at all concerned with her or any other woman.
But she knew it was something she could not say.
She must wait until she had left Salona before she even spoke about Prince Boris again.
It flashed through her mind that perhaps she could trust Mikloš.
There was something about him that told her that he was a man of rank and she would not have been surprised to find that he was an aristocrat.
Few aristocrats she knew had the authoritative air that she had noticed the moment she saw him, but she had always believed it was what they should have.
As she was wondering whether she could tell Mikloš when she was leaving the country and what was about to happen, he made her start when he said as if he had been reading her thoughts,
“Well, have you made up your mind to trust me and tell me what is worrying you?”
“How do you know I am worried?” she parried.
“Your eyes are very expressive,” he said, “but it is more than that. I can feel with some unusual sense I do not always use, that you are deeply perturbed and, if you are honest, anxious to share your burden with somebody. Perhaps me?”
Tora looked at him in astonishment.
“How can you know such things?”
In answer Mikloš replied,
“Give me your hand!”
Because it was not what she expected him to say, she obeyed him and he took it in both of his.
Her hand seemed very small as his covered it and then she could feel strange and yet unmistakable vibrations as if they were part of the Life Force within him moving from his hands into hers.
Her skin was tingling and she had the strange feeling that she and Mikloš were linked together with a closeness that she had never known with anybody before.
Then, as if what was happening scared her, she said quickly,
“You don’t understand – I must go back – I am sure the Professor will have arrived by now.”
“Wherever you go,” Mikloš said, “we shall meet again.”
She raised her eyes to his and then it was impossible to move, impossible even to think.
“We have met at last,” Mikloš said very quietly. “I thought one day it would happen, but not like this!”
She did not question what he was saying and, although it seemed extraordinary, she understood.
As he was still holding her hand, she had the strange idea that she belonged to him and she could never escape.
Then because somehow she was frightened of him, although it was not at all the same fear that she had for Prince Boris, she snatched her hand away from him and pushed her way through the trees.
She ran so quickly that she had reached the path before he was able to catch hold of the reins of his horse and follow her.
Then, as she was running away not only from Mikloš but from herself, Tora sped down the path towards the inn.
She ran through the wooden gate into the garden and round the side of the building to the seat she had occupied when she had overheard Prince Boris and his conspirators talking in the room above her.
As breathlessly she reached the front of the inn, she saw an open carriage coming slowly up the incline and recognised it as the Professor’s in which he always arrived at the Palace to give her music lessons.
It was quite a nice-looking carriage, but slightly old-fashioned and it was drawn by a strong young horse.
The coachman who sat on the box was the Professor’s manservant who, with his wife, looked after him in the small house he occupied in one of the quiet streets of the Capital.
Tora was so relieved to see the Professor that she ran towards the carriage and, as it came to a standstill outside the front of the inn, she greeted him with her arms outstretched.
The Professor, looking very smart in his best suit, swept his tall hat from his head and stepping from the carriage clasped her by the hand.
“I am delighted to see you, my dear,” he said, “and I must apologise for keeping you waiting.”
“It has not be
en very long,” Tora said untruthfully.
Taking her by the hand the Professor drew her a few paces from the carriage.
“I have told the others,” he said, “that your name is Jasmine Srejovic.”
Tora smiled.
She knew the Professor had forgotten to think of a name for her and, although it was unlikely, the other members of the quartet, since they had played at the Palace on several occasions, might have heard her father or mother calling her Tora.
It was rather clever of him, she thought, to use her second name, which was a very common one in Radoslav and yet it would be easy for her to remember.
“May I introduce you to my fellow artistes?” he asked speaking in a louder voice than before.
Walking back towards the carriage where the two other members of the quartet were now lifting down their musical instruments, he said,
“Come and meet my relative who has kindly stepped into the breach at the last moment and we are very grateful to her.”
The two elderly men shook Tora by the hand.
Although she thought there was just a hint of admiration in Kliment’s eyes, who was the younger of the two, she knew that not for one second did they suspect that she was anything but what the Professor had declared her to be.
Having greeted her they then returned to the business of carrying their precious instruments, which they would not entrust to anybody else, into the inn.
A porter appeared to deal with the other luggage, including the trunk that Simonida had packed for Tora.
They all walked towards the inn and, as they did so, Tora saw that she had left the green shawl that went with her peasant dress on the seat beneath the window.
She felt a streak of horror pierce through her in case Prince Boris had seen it when she ran away into the woods.
Then she remembered that he was no longer there and it was silly of her to be so afraid.
Hastily she picked up the shawl and ran back to the Professor just as he was entering the door of the inn.
The landlord, a large jovial-looking man came hurrying to greet the Professor with cries of delight, flinging his arms around him and kissing him on both cheeks.
“It is good to have you here, my most esteemed and valued friend!” he cried. “If we don’t make you comfortable, my wife and I will hang our heads in shame!”
Princes and Princesses Page 110