Halya narrowed her eyes and squinted against the brightness of the blazing snow. She shook her head.
Kusma laughed. “From boyhood the sound of a pounding horse is one of the things a Cossack listens for. We do it unconsciously. One would think there is nothing to hear in deep snow, but the ground gives off its sounds. Many dispute this, but within minutes you will see a rider approach. Turn your eyes to the end of the village and you will see that I’m right. It appears that Stepan is eager to leave my brother’s shelter to take you back to the mountains.”
Halya laughed outright when she shaded her eyes with her hand to see a streak of ivory whip down the road and come to a roaring halt bare inches from her mount.
Stepan drew in his breath at the sight of the beautiful fair-haired woman atop the sorrel. His eyes sought Kusma’s. The man shrugged elaborately, a shrug that clearly stated the woman was now Stepan’s problem. Mine and Katerina’s, he thought sourly.
“I will stable the sorrel in my village and you can claim him on your return,” Kusma said to Halya.
He motioned Halya to slide from her horse and mount the white stallion called Darkfire. With a long, lingering look around the gutted, snowcapped village, Stepan patted Wildfire on his neck, and the horse reared back and took off, his hooves sending the thick snow backward. Darkfire, in his wake, thundered and pounded after the lead stallion. Halya hung on to the reins, positive her neck would be jarred from her shoulders.
For two days they rode, stopping only to feed the animals and for a brief rest. No words could be spoken between Stepan and the woman, and Halya felt uneasy at his strange silence. Stepan felt nonplussed. While he was not experienced in the ways of women, he knew she was going to be a problem for Katerina and the prince. And the one with the flower-blue eyes. Poor Katerina. Just as the Mongol and Katerina were fire and ice, this woman would be nothing but trouble compared to the Kat. Already he could see Prince Banyen taking her to his bed and ravaging her, the way men like him did. She looks so delicate and so pretty, he thought. One would want to cradle her fair head to his chest and whisper sweet, soft words in her ear. Poor Katerina. Would she come out second best with this woman? It was a mistake. He grimaced as he remounted and waited for Halya to do the same.
An hour before they cleared the pass, snow began to fall and the sky was black and ominous. Wildfire kicked up his heels and snorted in delight. It was impossible, but Stepan swore that the animal’s stride increased with the swirling snow. Halya, petrified, clung to Darkfire’s mane for dear life, trying desperately to understand how the animal beneath her could travel at such an ungodly speed in the deep accumulation.
Wildfire reared up and brought his hooves crashing against the stout doors of the underground stable. Daintily he backed off and waited patiently. When the doors swung open, he rose again on his hind legs and snorted long and loud, the conqueror returned with his bounty.
Katerina raced into the stable and immediately threw her arms around Wildfire’s neck. “You did it! I knew I could depend on you. It took a long time, but you succeeded. Good boy!” she crooned as she tightened her hold on the horse’s neck. “And you, Darkfire, see that you didn’t unseat your rider.” She rubbed her cheek against the horse’s head and whispered soft words. The stallion whickered in delight as the woman slid from his back. Stepan led the animals away with a last fond pat from Katerina, who then turned to Halya. “Welcome to the House of the Kat. Come with me and I’ll give you some hot tea.”
Halya nodded. She was so cold. She wondered if she’d ever be warm again.
In the large, cozy kitchen, she let the fox cape slide off. Katerina drew in her breath. How beautiful she was, with her golden hair awry, stray curls clinging to cheeks flushed rosy red. Emerald eyes sparkled as she looked around before sitting down on the bench. Her voice, when she spoke, was soft and melodious.
“I’m Halya Zhuk. Princess Halya Zhuk,” she corrected herself. “I want to thank you for allowing me to come to this fortress. I seek information about my brother, Prince Yuri Zhuk, who was sent to your village of Volin the spring of last year. I know he is dead, but I wish to find out how he died, and why, and who killed him,” she said sadly.
Katerina’s hand trembled as she poured tea into a mug for the princess. She heard the words and she understood them. A princess. A beautiful princess like in the stories her mother used to tell her. Banyen was a prince. A handsome prince in the same fairy tales. And according to the ageless fables, they would live happily ever after. Now she understood the look in Stepan’s eyes. He pitied her and felt sorry for her. I must be ugly, she thought, if Stepan is worried for me. She forced her hand to be steady as she set the cup in front of Halya and then sat down to still the shaking in her legs. How beautiful her hair was, all bright and shiny like golden summer wheat. And her dress—never in her life had Katerina seen anything so pretty. Katerina’s long, slender hands stroked her coarse, tight-fitting pants, and she suddenly wanted to cry.
“Will you help me? Do you have information about his death? Was anything said to you about his killers? I must know,” Halya pleaded, tears glistening in the bottle-green eyes.
Katerina swallowed hard. She would have to tell her. Tell her that her brother was dead by her hand. She cleared her throat and spoke quietly. “You must realize now that you’re here you will have to stay until spring. The snows, the worst of them, have already started and last till March. Until now the snow has been intermittent, but this is the blizzard time. There is no way I can send you back, for to do so would only endanger the animals. We’ll make you comfortable and do our best by you.”
“I understand, and I cannot ask for more. I am truly grateful that you allowed me to come here. I mean you no harm and will do nothing to make or cause you trouble. But you must tell me what you know of my brother. I sense that you know and that you don’t wish to speak of it. Please, I implore you.”
Katerina decided she liked the princess even though she envied her rich clothing and beautiful face. How she felt about her brother was love, the same kind of love Katerina had felt for her father. She nodded slightly. “Your brother came to our village in the late spring, as you said, and bought many horses for the Czar. My father, in a fit of anger, canceled the contract. I cannot lie to you and make up some excuse about why he canceled it. He found . . . he saw your brother and me . . . what I’m saying is that your brother and I made love and my father came upon us. He misunderstood. Yuri tried, as did I, to explain to him that what he thought he heard was not . . .” Katerina raised her hands helplessly. “He canceled the contract, and I was brought before the Cossack council and ostracized. Yuri left to return to Moscow with the intention of returning for me at the end of the summer. He never came. I waited and waited. The night before we were to leave for the mountains I was away from the village, and it was raided, all of our people killed and the horses stolen. There are those who say your brother was at fault and there are those that blame me. It was not your brother’s fault. Nor was it mine. I don’t know who did it, but I plan to find out. Your brother did nothing wrong except to make love to me, if that’s wrong. Sometimes I no longer know what is right and what is wrong.”
“But Yuri never returned to Moscow. Where did he go, what happened to him?” Halya asked anxiously.
Katerina moistened her dry lips and reached her hand across the table and touched Halya gently. “Listen to me. After our village was gutted I left for Sibir. I was watering my horse when I heard a noise in a clump of shrubbery. When I investigated, I saw your . . . your brother. He was without a tongue and without fingers. He was near death. I don’t know who it was that . . . I asked him if it was my father or my people and he shook his head no, but he couldn’t tell me who did it. His eyes pleaded with me to kill him. I did. I’m sorry, but I could not let him lie there and suffer and die such a wretched death. I couldn’t let the vultures circle overhead for him to see. If I had to do it again, I would.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she waited for Haly
a to comment.
“Thank you for telling me. No, you couldn’t do less. Did my brother love you?” she asked huskily.
“He said he did, he said he would return for me and we would go to Kiev to live,” Katerina said simply.
“Then you are as much my sister as if he married you,” Halya said, getting up from the table and coming to put her arms around Katerina’s neck.
Silent tears coursed down both their cheeks, and it was Katerina who smiled tremulously and said, “I never told anyone. I couldn’t. I never killed anyone before. I don’t know how I managed to. . .”
“Don’t speak of it anymore. It was what Yuri wanted. I don’t blame you, and therefore you must not fault yourself. It’s over, and hopefully one day we’ll find the person responsible and then it will be righted. Let us speak of other things. Tell me of this giant fortress surrounded by monolithic trees as far as the eye can see. Tell me of those beautiful animals we rode here. Allow me,” she said, pouring Katerina tea and more for herself. “Drink this and we’ll both feel better.” Katerina nodded gratefully as she sipped at the scalding liquid.
It was Banyen who found them laughing and giggling like two schoolgirls when he arrived for the evening meal. Katerina watched as his eyes traveled over the princess approvingly.
There was no mocking look in his eyes and no sneer on his full, sensual mouth as he stared at the princess. Katerina watched as his eyes traveled the length of her and came to rest on her full breasts, which jutted from her lavender gown. It was obvious that he liked what he saw, and it was just as clear that the princess liked him also. She smiled warmly and introduced herself, to Katerina’s discomfort. The green eyes sparkled and her moist lips parted, showing perfect white teeth. Banyen bowed low over her hand and then brought it to his lips. Bastard! Katerina seethed. He could charm the skin off a snake.
Dinner was a miserable, torturous affair for Katerina. She felt out of her depth as the princess charmed Banyen with amusing stories of her life in Moldavia and of the great Terem Palace in the Kremlin. Banyen sat like a lovesick boy, drinking in every word she spoke. Even to Katerina’s untrained ear it was evident that they had much in common. It bothered her and she didn’t know why. Lost in her own miserable thoughts, she was jarred from them when she heard Halya ask how Banyen got the scar on his cheek. She smiled coyly and said she was sure it was a fierce war wound. Banyen smiled sickeningly and said yes, that was how he got it, from a fierce soldier bent on cutting him down. Katerina almost gagged at the blatant lie and rose from the table. Banyen’s eyes laughed at her as she tucked the coarse shirt into the band of her trousers, her breasts jutting forth with her tense, muscular movement. She matched his look and said coolly, “Another time you can regale our guest with tales of your . . . heroics. For now, you are to take the center ring with one of the recruits.” Furious with herself, she continued, “It would be interesting to know how the fierce . . . soldier came out during the battle.”
“Second best, of course. I won, I always win.” He laughed as he reached out a firm hand to help Halya to her feet. “If you have no objection, we can have the princess observe my expertise.”
Having Halya in the arena was the last thing Katerina wanted, but she gave in and nodded. Halya smiled as Katerina strode ahead, she and Banyen following in her wake. Damn! Why did he always manage to get the best of her? She prayed that it would be Kostya who met him in the middle of the ring, and she prayed that he would run the bastard through till his blood ran like a river.
The great cavern rang with sounds of laughter and hoarse shouts. This was the drill they had all been waiting for, the Mongols versus the prisoners. The men themselves were to pick the contestants, based on skill and expertise with both horse and weapon. Katerina drew in her breath when she noted that it was Kostya who had been chosen. She knew without a doubt that it would be Banyen that the Mongols selected.
With great care and a solicitous attitude, Banyen fetched a low barrel for Halya to sit on. He gave her a low bow and marched away to ready his horse.
Katerina positioned herself near Mikhailo to show she had no favorites.
Rokal stepped to the center of the ring and spoke in a loud voice. “We have chosen Kostya to represent us in the drill. Presenting,” he shouted, waving his arms in the air, “Kostya, drill captain of our group.” The men cheered his speech, and he withdrew as a Mongol stepped forward and in the same words introduced Banyen. While Banyen’s men cheered, their enthusiasm was muted.
Her eyes on Halya, Katerina was puzzled when she saw the young woman’s hand go to her throat, and all color drain from her face. Surely she wasn’t one of those squeamish females who fainted at the show of a little excitement. Katerina watched intently to see where her gaze traveled. Kostya! Why would the sight of the blue-eyed Russian bring such a look of dismay to her face? Katerina swiveled to pay closer attention to the blond atop his mount, and watched as his eyes traveled the length of the arena and came to rest on the princess. Katerina frowned when he tensed in the saddle and jerked the reins.
Banyen, impervious to what was going on, smiled confidently to all who looked on. There was no doubt in his mind who the winner would be. Things were definitely improving in the fortress. A beautiful woman and a chance to show the steely-eyed prisoner that he was a fighting man despite his royal title.
Mikhailo also watched the byplay between the princess and Kostya. “I knew she would be trouble the minute I laid eyes on her,” he said harshly.
Katerina nibbled on her lip as she watched Kostya’s horse back off daintily and then wait patiently for his rider to give his first order. Her amber eyes grew wary as she saw his hand tremble slightly when he maneuvered the lance in his hand. What did it mean? Was she so beautiful that men . . . And that stupid Banyen, he was still smiling in the princess’s direction, his seat lofty, his bearing regal in the saddle. Jealousy ate at Katerina as she watched both men stare at the princess. Damn! she seethed. Mikhailo was right. When you make a mistake, Katerina, you make a good one, she told herself.
Banyen’s steed made his way to the center of the ring. The muscles trembled beneath the animal’s hide, a sign that he was impatient to begin. On Mikhailo’s count of three, Banyen, who had resumed his place at the far end of the room, charged forward. At what should have been the moment of impact, Banyen transferred the lance from his right hand to his left, Kostya rode straight as if to take the lance full in his chest, but instinctively swerved out of the way at the last split second. A wide grin spread across his face as he reined in the horse in preparation for a second charge. Again Kostya rode straight toward Banyen, but this time the Mongol anticipated his move and kept the lance poised in his right hand. Kostya, intent on his maneuver, slid sideways just as a scream ripped through the arena. The princess toppled from her barrel into a heap on the floor. Both men wore stunned expressions as they stared deeply into each other’s eyes. Neither moved or said a word. Katerina walked over to the fallen woman and stood looking down at her, her eyes turning the color of cinnamon as she pondered what to do.
“She fainted,” Mikhailo said gruffly as he bent to pick her up in his powerful arms. His gait with his wooden leg was uneven as he carried the woman from the arena.
Katerina resumed her position and motioned with her hand for the drill to continue. Kostya’s mouth was a grim, tight line and Banyen’s dark eyes were hooded as they charged at each other time and time again, neither man unseating the other. “A draw!” Katerina shouted. She swaggered over to the two men and looked up at them, her hands on her hips. “It’s fortunate for all of us that this was a drill. If you had been in battle and the scream of a woman could divert you, then your life would be gone. Both of you are fools. I thought you were men. Boys! Babies! Infants! We’re talking about your life and you stare at me as if I were some species of fly. Am I right or am I wrong?” she demanded loudly. “Answer me, for I want your men to know what manner of fearless leader they train under. Ask them,” she said, pointing a f
inger, “who among them would agree to ride with you knowing a female shriek could divert you?”
Kostya and Banyen both looked to their men and were not surprised to see all of them lower their heads, refusing to meet their eyes.
“A Cossack has no time for thoughts such as both of you are having. For a faint you would have lost your lives. All these months wiped out for one careless, stupid mistake.”
Katerina forced herself to stare into the Mongol’s eyes, her own bitter and hate-filled. Kostya gazed at her shamefaced as he slid from his horse and walked to his men, who avoided him by moving away in small clusters, their voices subdued and quiet. Banyen’s men moved to the end of the arena and busied themselves with their weapons.
Angry at herself, angry at Kostya and Banyen, Katerina stalked from the room. She would get to the bottom of whatever it was that had startled the princess and put an end to it. Why had she allowed the woman to come to the mountains? What a fool she had been.
The deep, ridged scar on Banyen’s cheek throbbed painfully as he reached up to remove the saddle from his horse. Damn her soul, she was right! Why did she always have to be right, and why did he always have to be the recipient of her wrath? If she were within a hair’s-breadth of him now, he would choke the life from her body. It was that damnable Kostya who was at fault. He should have killed him when he had the chance, the opportunity, but he held back. He told himself wanton killing was not his nature. Yet that shriek had startled him also. Fair was fair. How could he kill when he was as much at fault as the Russian? Sometimes it paid to be truthful with oneself. Like now, he thought bitterly.
Christ, she made so few mistakes! Was she human or was she some kind of devil? He reached up to still the pain in his cheek and remembered who it was that was responsible. A feeling of shame settled over him as his rough kneading of the wound relaxed its throbbing. The Khan would be furious if he knew what was going on. Outclassed and outsmarted by a woman. A woman who hated him . . . totally. He knew one day she would kill him if he weren’t careful. True, she had allowed him to make love to her, allowed him to hold her in his arms, but now that he thought about it, it was not quite right. She had done it for a reason. Well, this time she had made an error. Why had she allowed the princess to come to the fortress? She was a beautiful woman, pleasing to the eye with her softness and her voluptuous body, but there was something about her, the look in her eyes . . . it was as old as time itself. A look she could never rid herself of. She had been careful to skirt around the edges of what sort of life she had while living in the palace. Was she Ivan’s mistress? Of course she was, he answered himself. He had seen women like her before, and while they performed well in bed, that was all they did. They were dull-witted, placid, content only when their favors were repaid with gems and money. Nothing had any meaning to women like her, everything they did was calculated and planned. No, he didn’t need a woman like her. But, on the other hand, if she had news of Ivan that could help him, then he just might have to . . . He shrugged as he left the arena, Mikhailo staring after him.
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