'Til the End of Time (16 page)

“Why were you waiting for me?” Sandor said incisively. “And why did you follow us?”

Paulo grinned. “Good news. We received a message from Zack. He managed to untangle the problem with the delivery. The arms were delivered to the base last night. Conal didn’t want to risk a radio leak to tip Naldona to the fact that the assault was imminent, so he sent me to tell you and bring you back.”

“I’ll say it’s good news.” Sandor’s eyes blazed, the weariness falling away from him. “Lord, it’s almost over. I’ve got to contact Conal and …” His voice trailed off, and he strode toward the high fence bordering the airfield. He glanced back over his shoulder, shouting, “Take care of her, Paulo.”

Alessandra slowly shook her head as she watched him walk away. She supposed she should be grateful he had even remembered her existence. He had closed her out again. “Yes, take care of me, Paulo,” she said ironically. “But be sure I don’t get in the way.”

“The war is—”

She held up her hand. “I know. I’m not criticizing your Tanzar’s dedication. Priorities have to be observed. I just don’t like being put on a shelf and expected to stay there.” They had shared so much in the last hours that she hadn’t expected this rejection. “I think Sandor and I will have to discuss a few things. Now, do you suppose you could manage to find me a bath and a place to sleep for the next few hours?”

“The bath is easy. A place to sleep may be impossible. Once Sandor begins to move, there won’t be a quiet room or spot on the entire airfield.” He shrugged. “Maybe not in all Tamrovia … but I will try. If anyone can do it—”

“It will be you,” Alessandra finished. “I have complete faith in your ingenuity, Paulo.” She adjusted the straps of her backpack and brushed the hair from her temple. “Shall we go and put it to the test?”

“Do you want to take our friend, here?” Paulo gestured to the rocking horse. His lips were twitching with amusement. “I was going to question
Sandor about it, when he ran off.” He lowered his voice. “What is it? A new secret weapon?”

“His name is Leo,” she said, and sighed. “And yes, I think we’d better take him with us.” If Paulo was right about the coming turmoil, there was no telling when anyone from the airfield would be free to come and pick him up. She bent to grasp the the oak runners. “You take the hindquarters.”

It was done. The arms were distributed and in place. Conal and Jasper would be on their way within the hour to position their troops for the rear attack on Belajo. He had only to fly back to base to join his men and take command of the frontal attack.

Sandor leaned back in the chair and gazed at the radio he had just switched off. He should be tired, but adrenaline was charging him with vitality. He hoped to heaven it lasted. A long forty-eight hours loomed ahead for him. Forty-eight hours. After two long years, it was almost over. He would be able to stop thinking of war and begin thinking of—

“Your helicopter is ready.” Paulo stood in the doorway of the radio room. “I’m surprised you decided to go by air. What about Naldona’s antiaircraft guns?”

“They’ll be taken out. Conal has sent troops to take care of it. A foray toward Limtana will act as a diversion to keep Naldona from noticing we’re shifting our forces to encircle Belajo. If we move quickly, we’ll take him off guard. He thought the news of my death would throw our forces into confusion.” His lips twisted. “His men are probably
still sifting through the ashes for our remains. The damage to Limtana must have been pretty close to total for him to risk the announcement without concrete proof.”

Paulo’s expression was grave. “I am sorry about your home. I know how highly you valued it. I cannot understand this passion for a single dwelling, but I share your grief.” He grinned. “Perhaps it is for the best. Who knows? Maybe when you have won this war, you will join my tribe and we’ll show you how a man should live. No walls, no roots, no politics.”

“No politics.” Sandor grimaced. “That alone makes your invitation irresistible.”

“We will hide you in the hills. If they can’t find you, they can’t make you president.”

“Well, I’ll worry about that when we’ve gotten rid of Naldona.” He pushed back his chair. “I have to see Alessandra before I leave. Where is she?”

“In the machine shed.”

“The machine shed?”

“She wanted to take a nap. It was the only place I could put her where your people wouldn’t be stumbling over her. I put a cot in there and found her a pair of earplugs.” Paulo’s expression reflected satisfaction. “It worked very well. When I checked on her thirty minutes ago, she didn’t even stir.”

“After what we’ve been through in the past two days, it wouldn’t surprise me if she slept for a month. Meet me at the helicopter in fifteen minutes, will you? There’s something I want you to do for me.”

The machine shed smelled of oil and the concrete floor was stained with grease and spotted with paint. Alessandra was totally unaware of either
the odor or the roughness of her surroundings. She was breathing deeply, evenly, sleeping the sleep of total exhaustion.

Sandor knelt beside her. He didn’t have much time, but he wanted to spend these last minutes with her. There were a hundred things he still had to say to her. Their time together had been pitifully brief and shadowed by violence and misunderstanding. His glance fell on the rocking horse someone had shoved into the far corner of the shed. He hadn’t even told her how much it had meant, how much it had touched him, to have her fight so valiantly to preserve a part of his heritage. How could he hope she’d realize what they’d found together? He’d have to
make
her understand. When this miserable war was over, he’d find her and convince her he could be something other than the rough soldier she had known these last few days.

He reached out his hand to touch her cheek. He stopped in midair and let his hand fall to his side without touching her. He had forgotten the wariness that was always with her. If he touched her, he would wake her, and he didn’t want to. He hoped she slept until all the horror of the coming attack was in the past. She had gone through one war. He would not inflict another on her. He would just stay here until it was time for him to leave. He would think about last night and the possibility of tomorrow. It would be enough.

There was something wrong.

Alessandra’s eyes flew open, instinctive alarm jarring her awake. It was dark. The rancid odor of oil was heavy in the air. The machine shed. She remembered now. Paulo had found her a place to sleep for a few hours.… But that had been mid-morning, and it was dark now. She sat bolt upright and fumbled to remove her earplugs. Why hadn’t someone awakened her?

Something was stirring across the room. She jerked around to face it.

“It’s only me.” Paulo’s voice. “Don’t be afraid.” A match suddenly flared in the darkness, illuminating Paulo’s bearded face and sparkling eyes. “Sandor asked me to watch over you. I’m glad you’re awake. I was getting restless sitting here.” The match was extinguished and she heard a rustling as Paulo rose to his feet and moved across the room toward
the light switch. “You slept a long time. Sandor said you were exhausted.”

Alessandra blinked as Paulo switched on the harsh overhead light. She swung her feet to the floor. “What time is it?”

“Three in the morning.” He shrugged. “Maybe later.”

It was the middle of the night. For a moment she couldn’t take it in. “Why didn’t somebody wake me? Where’s Sandor?”

“Gone back to the base.”

“Without me? He
left
me here?”

Paulo nodded, not looking at her. “He said it would be safer for you. He’s radioed Zack to send a jet to take you to Zurich. He told me to tell you he’d join you as soon as he could.”

Alessandra stared at him blankly. “I’m to go to Switzerland and he’ll join me when it’s convenient?”

Paulo nodded. “It shouldn’t be too long. Sandor has already launched the attack on Belajo. They should be in the thick of the fighting right now.”

Fighting. Sandor was surrounded by violence and death and she wasn’t with him. He could die and she wouldn’t even know it. And he wanted her to go to Switzerland? “How do I get to Belajo?”

Paulo smiled in satisfaction. “It’s very dangerous,” he murmured. “And difficult. Sandor will be angry.”

“How do I get there?”

“Fighting is fierce around Limtana, and we have to cross that territory to get to Belajo.”

“
How,
Paulo?”

“We walk.”

She made a face. “I was afraid of that.”

“It will be very interesting. I know many ways to avoid—”

“I’m sure you do, and none of them in a straight line. It will probably take us twice as long as the trip coming here.”

“Possibly. You do not like to walk?”

“Let’s just say walking doesn’t like me.”

Paulo’s eyes were innocent. “You could stay here or go to Zurich. I’m certain you’d be very comfortable at either place.”

“We walk.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “I thought you would. That’s why I didn’t argue with Sandor when he asked me to stay. I knew that you and I would have a better time together than I would have had with him in Belajo. Battle takes little skill. It is the hunt that challenges a man. Whether he’s the prey or the hunter, it is the hunt.”

She found herself smiling. He was like a zestful child, and his enthusiasm was contagious. Paulo and Leo would have made a fine pair, she thought with amusement. The adventure just over the horizon beckoned to both of them. She felt a tiny thrill of anticipation herself as she started for the door. “Let’s hope the challenges aren’t too extreme this time. Let me wash up and get something to eat and we’ll be on our way.”

Belajo was a madhouse of joy. Singing, dancing in the streets, cafés giving out free wine and ale. Paulo had to step in twice before they had gone four blocks from the city gates to keep Alessandra from being swept away by a wave of enthusiastic merrymakers.

“Perhaps we had better go down one of the side streets,” he suggested, his big hand holding firmly to her wrist to keep her at his side. “Victory has a way of causing a certain amount of madness. A pleasant madness. It is good to see the people so happy. They suffered much under Naldona, and Sandor is extremely popular.”

“That’s very obvious.” She had heard many shouts of “Karpathan!” and “Tanzar!” since she had entered the city. “Is it really over?”

“So it seems.” Paulo shrugged. “I will know more when we run across one of Sandor’s officers. The city is secure and we had little trouble crossing Limtana. Sandor’s army evidently made a clean sweep.”

“But where can we find Sandor? The palace?”

“Possibly.” He frowned. “You look very tired. Sandor will not be pleased. Why don’t you sit down at that outdoor café across the street, and I will find Sandor and bring him to you.”

It was tempting. The last twenty-four hours had been a nightmare of pain and exhaustion. The trip through the hills might have been an interesting exercise in evasion for Paulo, but for her it had been fraught with agony and worry. She hadn’t been certain Sandor was safe, until they ran into a troop of soldiers outside the city who told them of Sandor’s victory. Now all she had to worry about was finding Sandor in a city gone crazy with excitement, and trying to stay upright on feet that felt as if they’d been slashed by the knives of Sandor’s mermaid story. She shook her head. “No. I’ve come this far, and there’s no telling how long it will take you to find Sandor.”

“You have great strength. Are you sure you aren’t a gypsy?”

“I’m not sure of anything. There are—”

“Ho! Conal!” Paulo’s shout interrupted her. He released her wrist. “Wait here.” He agilely dodged his way through the crowd toward a canvas-covered truck carrying soldiers that was slowly negotiating its way through the streets. “Stop, Conal!”

The truck stopped and the passenger door of the cab opened. The dark, stocky man who leaned out to speak to Paulo looked vaguely familiar, Alessandra thought. She’d probably seen him at the base. She stepped back into the alcove of a butcher shop to get out of the crowd and leaned wearily against the wall.

Paulo and the soldier spoke for only a few minutes, and then Paulo was cutting his way through the crowd toward her.

“Well?”

“It’s not good.” Paulo’s expression was grave. “We’ve won the war, but Naldona refuses to surrender. His personal guard has barricaded his suite at the palace, and he has a hostage.” He paused. “James Bruner.”

“James!” She straightened. “But he has nothing to do with this.”

“He’s an American citizen. If anything happens to him, the United States government will be very upset. A brand-new republic can’t afford to annoy a superpower.”

“But nothing could happen to James. He doesn’t—” She broke off. As long as James was held by Naldona, anything was possible. “You said he was a hostage. What does Naldona want?”

“A helicopter to take him to the airport. A jet to
take him where he wishes to go from there.” He hesitated. “And Sandor Karpathan.”

A tingle of shock ran through her. “Sandor couldn’t give into a demand like that. Naldona would kill him. His men wouldn’t
let
him do it.”

“Sandor is the Tanzar. His men will do as he commands.”

“No!” She drew a shuddering breath. Surely Sandor wouldn’t do it. Yet who knew better than she how much he had already given up? Why had she and James even come to Tamrovia? It was her fault both James and Sandor were in danger, and it was her responsibility to correct that situation. “Where is Sandor now?”

“He is at the palace. His men have set up a position in the courtyard. Naldona has given him another six hours to make a decision before he kills Bruner.”

Six hours. She felt a surge of relief so great, her legs went weak. At least Sandor would be safe until she had time to figure out what to do. “Oh, thank God.”

“Conal is waiting in the truck to take us to the palace. Sandor has sent for more troops. I thought you would want to go with him.”

“Yes.” She spoke abstractedly as she began to wend her way through the crowd. “Yes, I want to go the palace.” The secret passage! She skidded to a stop. If Sandor didn’t put himself in Naldona’s hands, it was almost certain he would use the secret passage for a surprise attack. The action would put him right in Naldona’s lap. But even if Naldona was surprised, it didn’t mean there wouldn’t be violence. James or Sandor still could be either hurt or ki— She mustn’t think about
what might happen. She had to decide what to do. What were Naldona’s weak points? There must be something she could use. Women. His attitude toward women was—