Microsoft Word - jw (66 page)

"You were outrageous."

"But convincing," he insisted.

"I didn't know you spoke Russian."

"I managed to pick up a few phrases here and there"

Kill the aristocrats." "Rape the women." "Pass the salt."

We'll talk later. At the moment we have to get ourselves out of here, and there are two more guards to deal with."

"What did you do with Tamara?" I inquired.

"She's resting quite comfortably with a gag stuffed down her throat, trussed up like a hog with several lengths of rawhide. Couldn't let her use that pointed stick on you."

"I saw you carrying a bundle-;"

"Provisions. I managed to appropriate us a horse and sleigh. It's waiting beyond that grove of trees, on the frozen river. We'll have to pass the enclosure and the horses are restless tonight. Stay close behind me. Try to make as little noise as possible."

Slowly, cautiously, we moved past the line of frozen shrubs that concealed the barricade of logs, the shadows here thick, moonlight gilding the snow beyond. The horses stirred nervously as we approached their enclosure, and Jeremy stopped as we heard footsteps pacing in the darkness.

I stood behind him, feeling safe, feeling secure, not at all frightened now that he was here. He stood very still, so tall and lean, the bulky black sheepskin coat and preposterous hat making him look quite burly. Snow continued to pelt us and it was freezing cold, but I didn't even notice the discomfort. Jeremy was here. It was incredible, it was improbable, but Jeremy was actually here. I could reach
up
and touch him.

. "I'm going after him," he whispered. "Stay here. Stay quiet."

"Don't leave me," I pleaded. "Don't-"

"Shhhh. I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

He crept away in the shadows, moving toward the sound of pacing, and I folded my arms around my waist and gnawed my lower lip, shivering, feeling afraid now, feeling bereft and exposed and vulnerable without Jeremy here to give me courage. For a few moments I could see his dark form creeping through the lighter darkness of the shadows, and then it merged, disappeared, and panic grew inside me. A miracle had happened and somehow he had materialized here in the middle of this Russian wilderness, but ... what if something happened to him now? I couldn't endure that. Now that we were together again I simply couldn't go on living if anything happened to him. I heard the guard pacing in the darkness, footsteps heavy on the crusty snow, and then he halted and there was an ominous silence broken only by the restless stamping of the horses.

It seemed to last forever. I stood there in the darkness under the icy branches, shivering, and the fear that gripped me like a giant invisible handwas not for me but for Jeremy. Why had the guard halted? A minute went by, another, another, and the invisible hand squeezed tighter and tighter. I knew I couldn't take much more. The tension was too much. I was going to scream. The silence stretched on interminably, and then I heard a soft, shuffling noise and a loud grunt followed by the sound of someone gagging, gurgling, gulping for breath. It lasted several seconds, and then there came a dull thud as a body dropped onto the ground. Jeremy. Oh dear God, was it Jeremy? I couldn't take it any longer. I hurried through the shadows toward the spot that the noises had come from. I slipped on the snow, fell to my knees. .

He reached down and took hold of my arms and pulled me to my feet. I struggled viciously, fighting him, and his fingers squeezed my arms so tightly I cried out. He shook me. I kicked him on the shin as hard as I could. He continued to shake me, harder now, so hard I thought my neck would snap.

"What's the
matter
with you?" he demanded.

He let go of me. I slapped him across the face. The sound of palm smacking cheek rang out like a gunshot. Jeremy stumbled back, knees wobbling, almost losing his balance.

Beneath the glove my palm burned as though it had been passed through flame.

"Jesus!" he cried.

"Don't you ever do that again!" I exclaimed, and my voice trembled. "Don't you
ever
leave me alone again, not even for a minute. I don't care
what
the circumstances!"

"Keep your
voice
down!"

"I'll kill you. I swear it!"

"You damn near did," he told me.

And then, much to my humiliation, I started sobbing and the tears started to stream down my cheeks. He tried to put his arms around me, and I shoved him away angrily.

He emitted an exasperated sigh and rubbed his cheek and waited patiently for me to compose myself. I took a deep .

breath. I dried my cheeks and took another deep breath and then sighed myself, adjusting the hood of my cloak, looking at him with a cool, dignified expression.

"All finished?" he inquired.

"I don't intend to apologize," I said coldly.

"I don't expect you to. My cheek feels like it's on fire.

You pack quite a punch, lass." .

"I meant what I said, Jeremy. Don't ever leave me alone again."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied. "Sure you're all right now?"

"I'm sure. What happened with the guard?"

"I managed to slip up on him from behind, slung my arm around his neck. He was too stunned to fight, just kept trying to pull my arm away, relieve the pressure. Sturdy chap. Took me a good two minutes to kill him. Think you're up to moving on now?"

I nodded, and Jeremy took my hand and led me through the darkness, past the enclosure where the horses stirred restlessly. My eyes had grown accustomed to the dark now, and I could see that one ofthe sleighs was missing. I could also see the body of the guard sprawled out on the snow, his head twisted to one side at a peculiar angle. I shuddered, and we hurried along in the swirling snow and crossed a patch of brilliant moonlight and headed for the trees. A few moments later we were moving under the icy branches, and through the trunks of the trees I could glimpse the river ahead, gleaming like a wide silver rib, bon in the moonlight.

"I thought we'd follow the river for a while rather than risk taking one of the roads," he said.

"Is it safe?" I asked.

"Safe as houses. Frozen solid, I'd wager. Ice must be three or four feet thick, couldn't possibly break."

The sleigh on the edge of the river was small and dilapidated with wide wooden runners. The horse was tethered to a tree trunk, a blanket secured over its back and hindquarters for warmth. It stood patiently in blinders, idly tapping one hoof on the ice. The sleigh was piled high with mothy fur rugs and blankets, and there were two bulky cloth bags filled with the food Jeremy had stolen. He helped me up onto the seat and lovingly arranged the blankets over my knees. The odor they gave off assaulted my nostrils, but under the circumstances it was the finest perfume.

Jeremy untethered the horse, coiled the rope and tossed it on the floor of the sleigh, then climbed in beside me. The sleigh rocked a little under his weight. He shifted the bags of food around, picked up a rifle, pulled the blankets over his legs and put a mothy fur rug over our knees. His black sheepskin coat smelled as bad as the blankets, and I could smell sweat, too, and leather. He was close beside me, his leg touching mine.

"We have a small problem," he said, reaching for the reins.

"Oh?"

"I was able to steal three rifles, and I took a pistol from the guard back there-he wasn't carrying a rifle. All four weapons are loaded, but I wasn't able to get any powder or extra ammunition. There wasn't time for me to locate the armory."

"No problem," I said.

I reached into the pockets of my cloak and pulled out the powder horn and the bag of shot. Jeremy stared at them in amazement. He took the bag of shot, opened it, examined the bullets, shook his head.

"Got any other little surprises on you?"

"Only a bag of gold."

"Incredible!"

"I believe in being prepared," I said smugly.

"There's no one like you, love-I've always said so. Want to tell me how you just happen to have gunshot and powder in your pockets?"

"It's a long story," I said, "and we're a little pressed for time."

"I may throttle you. I may not be able to restrain myself."

He clicked the reins and the horse began to clop along over the ice, windblown dirt and twigs making the surface less slippery and easily maneuverable. The wide wooden runners slid along nicely. The sleigh swayed gently. I leaned back against the cushion, pulling the blankets closer, warm, snug, in paradise with Jeremy beside me, no dream, his body warming mine, his strong hands holding the reins, his face in profile lean and handsome. He turned to look at me, and that familiar, mischievous smile played on his lips and I could feel fresh tears welling in my eyes.

We were together again, at last, through some miracle, and we were already spatting as of old and it was glorious, glorious. He saw the tears glistening in my eyes and held the reins with his right hand and tenderly brushed them from my lashes with his left.

"It's going to be all right," he said, a husky catch in his voice.

"I know," I whispered.

"You're a very brave lass."

"And stubborn and testy and often shrewish."

"That, too," he agreed. "I think I love you."

"I suppose that's why you left London with a blonde and took all my money with you."

"I can explain that."

"It had better be good," I told him.

He smiled again, and then the moon went behind a cloud and the bright silver light vanished and a shroud of blueblack darkness fell all around us, the banks on either side darker still, inky black. The horse's hoofs made a loud, monotonous

clop-clop on the ice, and the wooden runners

made a skimming, sandy sound, magnified by the darkness and the silence ofthe night. I was thinking now ofthe second guard, and Jeremy was too. I could sense the tension in his long, lean body as he gripped the reins. I placed my hand on his arm and felt the taut muscle beneath the sleeve.

"He-he's up ahead, isn't he?" I said quietly.

"Stationed on the bank. He'll be able to hear us, of course, but if this darkness holds he won't be able to see us.

We'll be all right."

"I'll take the reins, Jeremy. You take the rifle, just-just in case."

"Can't
risk
using the rifle, love. In this silence a shot would be deafening. They'd hear it all the way back at the camp-some of them would wake up, drunk as they are, find the cage empty, find the guard I stabbed. No, we can't use the rifle, can't let him use his either."

"So-"

"We'll do the best we can," he said lightly. "Once we're past the guard we'll be able to make good time. Pugachev will send men after us in the morning, of course, as soon as it's discovered you're gone, but with several hours' head start we'll be in fine shape."

Although his voice was deliberately light and reassuring, I could tell he was worried. I was worried myself, but he wasn't going to know it. He didn't need a cringing, frightened female at his side, he needed someone calm and composed and supportive, and that's what I intended to be.

Jeremy sighed, trying to control the tension, and I sat up straight, my feet resting on the butt of one of the rifles. The horse clopped on through the blue-black darkness, the sleigh rocking gently from side to side. The surface of the river was a dark pewter gray, spread with murky shadows, and the snow continued to fall in soft swirls.

"Halt!" a voice cried. "Who goes there!"

We heard crunching footsteps on the bank, and then, as though on command, the moon came out from behind the clouds and radiant silver light poured over the scene and we saw him standing there not thirty feet away, a hulking brute heavily bundled up against the cold, a rifle aimed directly at us. He was at least six feet seven, his face fierce, menacing. Jeremy pulled on the reins, bringing the horse to a halt, and, in harsh, rumbling Russian, identified himself as Pulaski.

"Pulaski?"

"Pugachev sends me after supplies. I am not able to leave until after it grows dark. Many soldiers not far from here, he reports."

Jeremy kept his head tilted down, the wide brim of his hat concealing his features. I leaned against him, the fur hood hiding most of my face. Scowling, the guard moved off the bank and took a few steps toward the sleigh, the rifle pointing at us, the butt propped against his shoulder, one finger curled around the trigger.

"Who is the woman?" he roared.

"It is a long journey. I bring my whore along for company.

I have vodka, too. Come, I will give you a bottle. You are out here in the cold all night. The vodka will warm your blood."

"You do not sound like Josef!" the guard rumbled.

"Is your imagination, comrade. Come, I share my vodka with you. I even share my whore."

The guard hesitated a moment, still suspicious, and then, rifle held firmly at the ready, he moved cautiously toward the sleigh. My heart was pounding. I held my breath.

Jeremy braced his feet firmly on the floor of the sleigh and tightened his leg muscles, ready to spring. His hand slipped under his sheepskin coat and gripped the hilt of the knife, slowly pulling it out. The guard advanced slowly, and Jeremy waited until he was almost upon us, then he sprang out of the sleigh and knocked the rifle out of the guard's arms. It clattered noisily on the ice, skittering several feet away.

Stunned, the burly Goliath staggered for a moment, recovering himself as Jeremy drove the knife toward his

heart. He grabbed Jeremy's wrist, twisting it viciously, and they struggled for a moment, grappling like two clumsy dancers, then Jeremy whipped his left leg behind the guard's right leg and shoved mightily and the guard toppled over backward, Jeremy crashing down on top of him, dropping the knife. They rolled on the ice, grunting,

.-

pounding, thrashing, and the horse neighed, stamping nervously on the ice.

The guard was on top of Jeremy now, so much larger, so much heavier, and Jeremy squirmed and bucked like a crazed bronco, trying to throw him off, and somehow he managed to slam his knee up into the guard's groin and roll aside, throwing himself on the guard's back, slinging an arm around his throat, but the man was too large, too powerful, and he easily tore free of the stranglehold and slung Jeremy aside and pounced on top of him again, his huge fingers curling around Jeremy's throat, squeezing mercilessly. Paralyzed with shock, I saw that Jeremy was growing weaker, weaker. Teeth bared, dark eyes glittering in the moonlight, the guard squeezed as Jeremy gripped his wrists, trying to tear the hands away from his throat.