Authors: Fern Michaels
Whitefire (29 page)
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.
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 finger, “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.
Â
Katerina stood looking down at the supine woman on the hearth, her head resting on a large goose-down pillow. She was awake and staring into the fire.
“I made a mistake in allowing you to come here,” Katerina said matter-of-factly. “Your actions almost got the two best men killed. It was a senseless thing to do. It was a drill and both men were evenly matched. From now on you will only be allowed in this kitchen and in the room next to mine, where you will sleep. Do you understand what I'm telling you? From this moment on you are to have no contact with any of the men. I can't afford any mistakes. Why did you shriek like that? Tell me, so that I'll understand. Are you so naive that you didn't think, weren't aware that a disturbance like that was harmful to the men participating in the drill? If the prince hadn't held back at the last moment, Kostya would be dead.”
At the sound of Kostya's name, Halya moved her head and stared up at Katerina. “I'm sorry,” she said, struggling to a sitting position. “I owe you an explanation for my behavior. I was startled when I saw Kostya. We played together as children in my home in Moldavia. While I was of royal birth, he was a peasant, so our playful years were forced to end with my father sending him away. I was sixteen and he was seventeen. I was sent to Moscow with my brother so that . . . it isn't important why I was sent. When I learned that my father was sending Kostya away, I ran to him one night and we made love. It was the most beautiful thing in the world to us. We swore that one day we would be reunited and live happily ever after. Children say things like that, only we meant it, and after that night we were no longer children. I loved him then and I love him now. While I lived in the Terem Palace and was Czar Ivan's mistress, I had only one thought and that was to marry the Czar, thinking that somehow Kostya would hear of my marriage and come for me. I've done many things in my life that I'm not proud of, but with only one thought in mindâthat somehow Kostya and I would be reunited. If it required the use of my body, then so be it. One only gives that which one wants to give, no more and no less. I've lost Yuri and I've found Kostya. My life is complete.”
Katerina looked at the wide-eyed woman in front of her and felt a chill wash over her. If only life were so simple. In her own way she was glad that it was Kostya Halya loved and not Banyen. Banyen was a part of her whether she liked it or not.
Halya stared at Katerina, a strange look on her face. “Please tell me that you don't . . . that Kostya . . . please tell me . . . I have to know,” she pleaded, the grass-green eyes moist with unshed tears.
“I have no feelings for Kostya, and he has none for me. Another time we'll speak of him and the reasons why he is here. I have much thinking to do. I want your promise that you'll not seek him out or do anything foolish.”
“You have my promise,” Halya said happily. “I'll do and say whatever you want as long as I know that he is here. I was going to go back to Moldavia and inform my parents of Yuri's death and make a new life for myself. At first I had many plans, each more difficult than the last. There is one other thing you must know. I left the Terem Palace with the Czar's permission, but a day early. A young soldier helped me escape. I'm sure as I sit here that he planned my death and was due to execute it shortly. He's a madman and I could no longer live under the same roof. If I were to tell you the things I was forced to do, you would die of shame. But I'm alive, and that is all behind me now. Now I have Kostya. There really is a God.” She smiled. “Every day from the day we were parted I prayed, and He has finally answered my prayers. Now I must pray anew that Kostya feels the same way I do.”
“Come, I'll show you where you are to sleep and let you turn in for the night. You look tired, and this has been a day of days for you. I think that you'll sleep happily and have dreams that only young, foolish girls have,” Katerina said, her voice hard and bitter.
Halya regarded her uncertainly, was unable to fathom her tone or the look in her eyes. What was eating at the girl? Surely she spoke the truth when she said she had no feeling for Kostya. It must be the Mongol. Did she love him or did she hate him? Whatever, who was she to judge or assume anything?
While the two women talked, Kostya settled himself in the cot that was his and sighed deeply. It was impossible, Halya here in the fortress! How? Why? Feelings long submerged surged through him till he had to gasp for breath. He buried his face in the bedding and let his mind race. He had thought he would never see her again. God, how he had searched, day after day, month after month, year after year. And she was finally here, so close he could almost touch her if he wanted to. How did she feel? Did she still love him? Only thoughts of finding her had kept him alive in the stockade.
Katerina paced her room, a deep frown on her face. She was tired but knew she would never sleep. How was she to keep the princess locked up or, barring that, out of sight? What in the name of God was she to do with her for six weeks? What would Kostya do if at the end of the winter Halya . . . She would have to talk to Kostya and see if his promise still held. What will I say to him? she thought nervously. She knew in her heart that she couldn't force him to help her at the beginning of spring. Idea after idea raced through her mind, only to be rejected. Perhaps tomorrow she would be able to think more clearly.
The fire crackled as flames leaped up the hollow chimney, sending tiny sparks out onto the hearth. Katerina sat down and drew her legs up to her chin. Every problem had a solution. If she appealed to the princess, it would help. What if Kostya really did leave? If he did, the others would go with him, and there was nothing she could do about it. The promise of gold and dignity would not go far when he left. She had to talk to him, and plead and beg if necessary for his help. “It can't all be for nothing,” she whimpered as she hugged her knees, a lone tear trickling down her cheek. Tomorrow she would talk with Kostya and promise him anything so long as he agreed to her terms.
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