Whitefire (30 page)
Authors: Fern Michaels
Curling herself into a tight ball, she cradled her head in the crook of her arm atop the red-fox throw and was instantly asleep. From time to time she moaned softly as she raced across the snows, the slant-eyed Mongol in her wake.
When Katerina woke in the morning, she was exhausted as thoughts of what she had to do plagued her.
Her simple but hearty breakfast over, she ordered Stepan to fetch Kostya to the kitchen. While she waited, she paced the flagstone floor, her thoughts whirling. God, what was she going to say and do when he stood before her? By now all the men knew something was wrong and were no doubt speculating wildly as to what it was all about. And what was the bastard Banyen thinking? No doubt he has it all figured out, she thought bitterly.
Stepan escorted a perplexed Kostya into the vast room and discreetly withdrew as Katerina held out a mug of hot tea and told him to sit down. “I must talk with you, and there's no other place where we would not be overheard. I want you to listen to me carefully, because you are the only one who can help me. Back in the Khanate when I chose you to come here to the Carpathians, I did so for one reason. I sensed in you an honesty. And when you said only savages and animals rape . . . What I'm trying to say is your words rang true, and I knew that whatever your best was, you would give it to me in exchange for freedom. Was I right, was my judgment of you accurate?”
“You judged me correctly.”
“Now that the princess is here, what does this do to my judgment? Will you stay with me after the winter is over? Will you keep your end of our bargain? Wait,” she said quietly, sensing he wanted to speak. “If you leave here with Princess Halya in the spring, the others will go with you. I need you to help me regain the Cosars. Without you and the men, I'll never see them again. Tell me, are you a man of your word? That and that alone is what I want to know.”
“Yes, I am. I'll do what I can to help you. I promised to keep my end of the bargain and I will. So will the others.”
Katerina nodded, her eyes lightening to ripe apricot, as she listened to him talk.
“I've searched for Halya for years, and finding her last evening was so unexpected that I was shaken to the core. I love her and I always will. Suddenly it was too much for me. I was free from the damn stockade, my life more or less back on an even stride, and there is Halya to add the final meaning to my life.” He looked around, almost expecting to see her sitting in the kitchen. “I understand that it's not good that she's here. I must see her and speak with her. That you can't deny me. If you do, then our bargain is over. After I talk with her and I explain, I'll do what you say. I also understand that you want no more meetings between us. I agree. It wouldn't look good for the men, and I have no wish to disturb them. What is good for one is good for all.”
Katerina nodded. “There are those here in the fortress who think I have no heart, that I'm not compassionate. Today is your day. Yours and the princess's. Come, I'll take you to her. Just remember that a bargain is a bargain. If you should default, you'll leave me no other choice. I'll have to kill you and make it look like an accident so the men will not revolt. I want that understood, Kostya.”
“I understand. If this were another time and another place, perhaps we could . . .”
“No, your princess would always stand between us. Rarely does one find true love, and when one does, it's not wise to tamper with the . . .”
Kostya smiled. “There is great understanding in you. I sensed it the first time you ever spoke to me. I have you to thank for my life and for my . . . love. I'll not abuse your generosity, you have my word.”
“It grows light. Let your face be the first thing the princess sees upon awakening. Remember, only this one day, no more.”
“You have my word.”
Chapter 18
T
he Trotsnik tavern on the outskirts of the Terek camp shook with raucous laughter as the Terek Cossacks danced and drank late into the night.
he Trotsnik tavern on the outskirts of the Terek camp shook with raucous laughter as the Terek Cossacks danced and drank late into the night.
They raised their mugs of kvass, first to one servant girl, and then to another. When they tired of toasting the women, they toasted their own fierceness and virility, laughing wildly and stamping their booted feet.
Gregory Bohacky, in a near stupor, climbed on top of one of the tables and began to dance, a bottle of wine balancing precariously on his forehead as he crouched low, his arms crossed over his broad chest. The music played wildly as the drunken Cossack thrust out one leg and then the other, finally falling off the table to land in a bevy of servant girls who were laughing as loudly as the men. Gregory lay on the floor, a wide grin splitting his face, his knees drawn up, feet flat on the floor. Two women perched themselves on his knees. The woman who could maintain her balance would be the fortunate one who would make the short ride back to Khortitsa and his bed for the night. The girls laughed and squealed as Gregory stamped his booted feet, trying to unseat each woman who clasped her arms around his muscular leg.
Gregory lifted his haunches and gave his right leg a mighty thump on the floor. One woman fell, amid loud shouts from the Cossacks. The other, Sonia, remained atop his knee, shouting that she and she alone was the victor. Gregory was pleased, for of all the women in the tavern, Sonia was his favorite. She could drink, dance, and make wild, passionate love better than any other woman he knew, and when the night of lovemaking was over she didn't cling and weep like the others. She dressed, kissed him soundly, borrowed a mount, and rode back to the tavern to wait for another time when Gregory would seek her out.
At the height of the din, Gregory gathered her close and whispered in her ear. She laughed as she waved to the other Cossacks and winked lewdly at the woman who had toppled from his leg.
Sonia giggled as Gregory tried to mount his horse. On his third try he seated himself, and reached down for the laughing Sonia and pulled her up next to him.
Back in his hut in Khortitsa, they tore off their clothes and tumbled into Gregory's rancid, filthy bed. Their lovemaking was wild and fierce, with Gregory shouting lewd endearments to the grinning Sonia.
Later, relaxing in the aftermath of his proven masculinity, the woman draped across his chest, he became aware of a loud clamoring outside his home. Angrily he stalked to the window. Who would dare to disturb him at this hour? A small group of villagers were wildly gesturing and shouting. He peered into the darkness, seeing nothing to warrant the excitement the men were making. He dressed quickly and stormed outside, shouting to be heard over the excited men.
Holding up both hands, he demanded silence. “You, old man,” he said, pointing to a half-dressed Cossack, “what is it, what's going on?”
“It's the Russians from Czar Ivan, they are here for the Cosars. Look, Gregory,” he babbled excitedly, “at the end of the road, do you see the coach?”
“Of course I see it, you fool, do you think I'm blind? Did they say why they arrived so early? They weren't due for another month. It's a trick of some sort. Post guards and surround this coach, and at the first sign of a trick, kill them!” he said harshly, striding toward the waiting coach.
“Explain yourself!” he bellowed to a soldier standing guard at the doors of the coach.
“Basil Makoviy, representative to Czar Ivan. I've come for the Cosars. Your gold is in the coach, full payment as agreed.”
“Bah! I made no agreement. I told the Czar I would give him my decision in one month. I didn't say I agreed to sell him the Cosars . . . You made your journey for nothing.”
The soldier was unimpressed with Gregory's words. He opened the door of the coach and pointed to six chests that rested on the floor. He nodded slightly, and one of his men opened a chest. Gregory blinked at the gold coins that sparkled in the glowing torchlight. Another nod from Makoviy and all the chests were opened. “My orders were to deliver the money to you and return with the herd. Those are my orders,” he repeated.
“And what will you do if I order my men to take this gold and kill you? I'm the leader of this camp, and I give the orders. Your Czar be damned! I made no bargain with him,” Gregory said harshly.
“The Czar has given us a certain number of days to reach here and return with the Cosars. Men were positioned along the route we followed and they are reporting our progress to Moscow. The last messenger was sent back to the Czar the moment we rode into this camp. If we don't return on schedule, this village will be nothing more than a memory. Do you understand me?”
Gregory's heart pounded in his chest, and sweat dripped from his forehead. He knew he had to make a decision, and he knew that if he didn't strike a bargain with the Russian his own men would kill him and take the gold for themselves. What good were horses when there were six chests of gold? “Agreed!” Gregory shouted, to the approval and wild stamping of his men.
The Russian nodded and spoke quietly. “The Czar was sure you would agree. We'll make camp here for the balance of the night and start our journey back at dawn. See that the herd is ready at sunup,” he said briskly as he ordered his men to unload the chests of coins. “A wise decision on your part. If you had refused, as I said, this village and all your people would be nothing more than a memory. A very wise decision.”
Gregory strode into a circle of his men and laughed loudly. “I said the Cosars were worth their weight in gold, and now we have the gold to prove it.”
The men added logs to the campfire in the circle and brought out containers of vodka to celebrate. “To Gregory!” they chorused.
Chapter 19
A
s the endless back-breaking days dragged on, Banyen became hostile and intense, his dark eyes brooding and hate-filled, while Kostya drove his men to a near frenzy, his own bright gaze smiling and alert. They were like oil and water. Banyen would sneer, one large fist pounding into the other, when one of his men fell short of the mark. Kostya would laugh and make his man do it over to his satisfaction, his mind on other things. Anger was a waste of time, and for now there was none in him. He could, at this time, even be charitable and forgive Banyen his rough treatment of him in the stockade. Rokal was right, he merely followed orders, and a good soldier always followed orders and gave the best that was in him. He owed Katerina the best that was in him, and he would keep his promise. Halya understood and promised to wait for him back at her home in Moldavia at winter's end. For once fortune smiled upon him, and he had no desire to tamper with God's work. He would do as he had promised and be happy doing it so long as he knew Halya and he would be together.
s the endless back-breaking days dragged on, Banyen became hostile and intense, his dark eyes brooding and hate-filled, while Kostya drove his men to a near frenzy, his own bright gaze smiling and alert. They were like oil and water. Banyen would sneer, one large fist pounding into the other, when one of his men fell short of the mark. Kostya would laugh and make his man do it over to his satisfaction, his mind on other things. Anger was a waste of time, and for now there was none in him. He could, at this time, even be charitable and forgive Banyen his rough treatment of him in the stockade. Rokal was right, he merely followed orders, and a good soldier always followed orders and gave the best that was in him. He owed Katerina the best that was in him, and he would keep his promise. Halya understood and promised to wait for him back at her home in Moldavia at winter's end. For once fortune smiled upon him, and he had no desire to tamper with God's work. He would do as he had promised and be happy doing it so long as he knew Halya and he would be together.
The days were just as endless for Katerina. She watched the men for hours on end, finding no fault with their performance. They were as near to being Cossacks as was humanly possible. Even the Mongols gave an excellent accounting of themselves. The Khan would find no fault with her training. Banyen, she admitted, bothered her. His indigo gaze was angry and hostile each time he looked at her. Did he think that the princess had been brought here for his personal enjoyment? Katerina smiled.
Banyen was unable to fathom why Halya was secluded from the others. He ate alone with Mikhailo while Katerina dined with the princess in her room. He wondered if she had something to do with the horses. It was possible Ivan had sent her here. How was he to gather news of the Czar if he couldn't talk to Halya? It disturbed him that some manner of conspiracy was going on and he had no clue as to what it was. Sooner or later he would have to make a decision about the stallions. Now that he knew they were in the fortress, all he had to do was follow Katerina on one of her early-morning jaunts and find out exactly where they were sequestered and then decide what to do. How many more days was he going to wait before he made any of his decisions? Not long, he promised himself; winter was slowly coming to an end and before long the perpetual snows would cease, and he could think about the vast outdoors and the chances he would have to take if he decided to take the stallions.
Christ, he ached with wanting a woman. Not just any woman, he told himself, but the Kat. He wanted her, desired her more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. He rubbed at his throbbing cheek and felt his fingers go to his eyes. She said she preferred Western eyes. She said she preferred hair the color of winter wheat. Was he so ugly that his dark hair and slanted eyes offended her? No, he told himself, Katerina had only one reason, and he doubted he could ever make it right with her. His dark eyes became hooded as he watched her throw back her head and laugh at something Kostya said. Rage surged through him as he thrust out his booted foot to kick at the low oak bench where saddles were piled. The pain in his foot made his eyes smart with the pain. “Bitch,” he seethed. Skinny, scrawny, bitch, how could she have such an effect on him? He stormed from the arena to the corridor, where he saw Katerina walk each morning before the others were awake. He would search the stable till he found what he wanted, and the first person who tried to stop him would find his hands around their neck. After that, they would be dead.
Banyen investigated methodically, the way he did everything. “Somewhere there must be an entrance to another room. I won't give up till I find it even if it takes all night.” Already he had spent hours, and still he was no wiser. “It has to be this room. She went in two hours ago and still hasn't come out,” he muttered in frustration. “The only thing I haven't done is tap the walls to see if they're hollow. And what will I do if I manage to find a secret opening?” he asked himself, shrugging his shoulders. If I just knew where to enter the room, that would be sufficient for now, he tried to convince himself.
This area, what was so special about it? Katerina had said it was off limits to any and all people in the fortress. Later he would decide what he would do. For now he wanted to see if what she said was true, that the animals responded only to her. If there wasn't any way he could handle them, then there would be no point in doing anything or making any sort of plans. One step at a time, he told himself as he began tapping the thick stone walls.
While Banyen hunted his way around the underground chamber, Katerina stirred restlessly and finally woke, her amber eyes smarting from the smoke that was whirling about the room. She struggled to her feet and added another log to the fire and sat down, shivering from the cold. Tears gathered in her eyes as she leaned back against the large fireplace, the ermine cape wrapped tightly about her. She admitted to herself that she hated her circumstances, the position she was in, the beautiful princess and the damn Mongol. She hated everything and everyone. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep forever; she was tired, very tired. Somehow, somewhere, her hatred had waned and been replaced by strange, unfamiliar feelings. She needed to talk, and decided to seek out Mikhailo. By now he would be up preparing tea for himself. She dressed quickly and ran to the kitchen.
“Katerina, what is it?” he said gruffly as she threw herself into his arms.
“Help me, Mikhailo!” she pleaded. “I have so many peculiar feelings that my mind cannot deal with.” Tears formed in the gold-flecked eyes and trickled down her smooth cheeks.
“Is it Banyen or Kostya?” Mikhailo asked, seating her near the fire.
“I don't know. I haven't any experience in the ways of the world, like the princess.”
“What do you feel for Kostya?”
Katerina answered honestly, “I have no feelings for him.”
“Then it's the prince that's making you unhappy. Do you feel drawn to him?”
“Yes, Mikhailo,” she said unhappily. “Soon it will be spring and he'll leave. What will I do, how will I feel when that happens?”
“I have no answers for you, Katerina, you must search and find your own answers.”
Kat wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She couldn't allow any man to come into her life, consuming her to the point where there was no room for anything else. That couldn't be love. Love was understanding and forgiveness.
“What is it, Katerina? What is tormenting you?”
“Can a person love and forget something . . . something terrible? No,” she answered for the old man. “It's possible to forgive, but one never forgets. Never!” she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “Never!”
“What is it, tell me!” the Cossack said, drawing her to him.
“Nothing, Mikhailo. Don't concern yourself. I'll go and visit with Stepan and the stallions.”
Mikhailo nodded. The stallions would work their magic and comfort her as he couldn't.
The moment she stepped into the stable, she heard a sound. Standing in the darkness, she watched Banyen rapping on the walls, an iron bar in one hand and a lantern in the other. She remained quiet as he slowly worked one side of the chamber and then another. From time to time he cursed softly in the dimness and moved on, the iron bar clanking and grazing off the rough stone. Her eyes narrowed as she watched. What would he do if he found the latch that opened the door? Would he walk through, or would he wait for another time, a time when the snows had gone, and would he try to lead the stallions from their home? Her heart felt heavy as a deep sadness settled over her. It was always the horses; it always ended with the horses.
Katerina stepped forward boldly, her boots making no sound on the hay-strewn floor. Banyen, intent on his search, did not see her or hear her till she reached up a slender arm and pressed the latch at the top of the shelf. “Is this what you're looking for?” she asked quietly.
Stunned, Banyen dropped the bar he was holding and stared at her. “Yes. I would never have thought of looking there. Why is it that the walls give off no echo?” he asked, hoping to wipe the look of defeat from her face. She shrugged as the shelf moved, and motioned him to precede her down the narrow tunnel.
Banyen drew back, hating the expression he saw on her face. “There's no need for you to take me. I would never have found it on my own.”
“Eventually you would have, or watched me, and sooner or later you would have discovered their stalls. This way, I'll give you a tour of the stallions' quarters and you'll tell me what you plan to do. Note, I said âplan,' not âdo.' There's no way you'll ever take these stallions from their home. I have no intention of parting with them. What do you think you could do? They are worthless to you without the mares. Is it possible that you believe that I'll regain the Cosars and that way you'll have the breeding secret? Fool!” she said softly. “I'm the only one who has the secret, and I would die before I gave it to you. A stallion is a stallion, a gelding is a gelding, and a mare is a mare. There's no way you could succeed. And another thing, as long as we're discussing the horses, let me tell you that I lied to my uncle. I am not going to give him a colt and a filly. The only way he could get the animals is to kill me, and even then I would fight and kick to the death.”
“Yes, I know of your intention. The Khan himself was aware that you lied to him. It amused him to watch you barter the one thing you held dearest for his help. He would have given you assistance for nothing, he has no need of the horses.”
“You lie. If what you say is true, then why are you seeking out the stallions? Do men ever tell the truth?” she asked in a tormented voice.
“About as often as a woman tells the truth,” Banyen said coolly.
“Why should women be any different from men?” Katerina asked, just as coolly.
“It takes a strong, honorable person to tell the truth. I need you,” he said simply.
Katerina's heart leaped in her throat at his words. She stopped and stared into his eyes.
“Even from here I can smell the fragrance of your desire.” He made no move to touch her, but stood still, returning her deep gaze.
“No,” Katerina whispered huskily.
Banyen's voice was deep and sensuous when he answered, “Lie to me, but don't lie to yourself. You want me, desire me as much as I want and desire you.”
“No,” Katerina whispered again, backing off a step.
“Look at me!” Banyen ordered. “Tell me what you see in my eyes. Put a name to it. Do it,” he said, advancing until he was mesmerizing her with his nearness. Still he made no attempt to touch her.
Katerina swallowed as she gazed at him. “I don't know what it is,” she moaned.
“It's the same thing that is mirrored in your eyes. You must be the one to give it a name.” Unexpectedly, the red welt on his cheek began to throb, and he fought the urge to reach up to still the pain.
Katerina saw the muscle in his cheek begin to twitch and, without meaning to, reached up and laid a gentle finger on the angry, throbbing welt. The words tumbled out.
“I did that to you, but I'm not sorry. What you did to me that night on the steppe was brutal. I can forgive you, but I'll never forget.”
“If I say I'm sorry, will that help? If I grovel at your feet, will that make any difference? I can do anything but undo what has been done. I'll devote the rest of my life to helping you forget,” he said, reaching out to gather her in his arms. He took her in the damp, clammy tunnel, and afterward he stared deeply into her eyes. “What we just did was savage and animalistic. Now I'll make love to you the way a man makes love to a woman. Come!”
If Mikhailo had stood in front of her and said the Cosars were standing at the doors of the fortress, she couldn't have cared less. All she knew was she had to follow him, she needed to follow him as surely as she needed to breathe. She nodded, moistening her lips as he wrapped his arms around her. “The stallions,” she whispered inanely.
“I don't care if I never see the stallions. You're the only thing that matters to me.” Suddenly he stopped and spun her around by the shoulders. “You want to hear the words, is that it?” He shook his dark head, an amused light in his slanted eyes. “I can't undo the time on the steppe. What I did was awful. I ask your forgiveness. You belong to me now and forever, so that might ease your feelings about what I did to you.” His face took on a dejected look as he stared at her, hoping against hope that his words were meaningful to her.
She felt a slight trembling in his arm as he drew her to him. Not trusting herself to speak, Katerina laid her head against his broad chest and sighed deeply.
He led her gently from the tunnel.
The blazing fire snapped and crackled, sending sparks shooting out of the cavernous depths of the enclosure.
Naked flesh met naked flesh. Savagely, beneath the gossamer tent of her cascading hair, his lips met hers in a searing, burning kiss that sent a dancing line of white fire coursing through her body. He allowed his touch to become gentle, stroking her skin with tender, teasing touches, stirring her to heights of passion she had only dreamed of. Katerina stirred as he smothered her with kisses, pulling her to him, closer, always closer. Her passion heightened, she was totally aware of his maleness, his lean, hard, muscular body next to hers. Husky murmurings filtered throughout her being as he stroked and caressed her breasts with his gentle touch. Moaning in ecstasy, Katerina strained toward him as desire rose in a tide, threatening to engulf her.
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