Aleksey's Kingdom (8 page)

I made a face at him but added, “You are looking exceptionally pretty. I will give you that.”

I did not give compliments to him very often, and I’m not sure any man wants to be called pretty—even by his lover. I added in the same tone, “I do so wonder what you will wear to the ball. I am agog with anticipation to see you.”

“Oh.”

“Perhaps you will save a dance for me?”

“I do not tell you these things because you behave like this when I do! What did we do for Christmas last year, Nikolai?”

“Christmas? I don’t think—”

“Exactly!” He said this with such triumph in his tone it was clear he did not think he had to elucidate, but when he saw my bafflement, he added, very annoyed, “Nothing! We did precisely nothing.”

“You wanted to celebrate Christmas? Why did you not say?”

“Oh, and what would you have done? Pray tell me, Niko. I am agog to hear.”

I smiled at his mimicry and shrugged. “Have your ball. I do not care. I will come if you want and watch you seduce everyone with how well you dance.”

“Will you?” He looked so serious and so pleased I did not have the heart to tell him I had only been joking. I shrugged again. “Perhaps we will both fall victim to phantom bone-grinding cannibals and not return from this great journey.”

“You would be too tough and stringy to eat. Chewy.”

“You do not seem to find me so….”

“Oh God’s teeth, hush.” He glanced around and saw we were alone, and relented, more than happy to carry on such a conversation. He was getting almost better at it than I these days. I nudged our horses closer so our thighs touched.

“So, Your Highness again now, is it?”

He winced. “It slipped out once. I could hardly then deny it, could I?”

“Oh. I apologize. Yes, I can see that ‘oh, by the way, I am actually royalty’ slips off the tongue.”

He hit me. I told him that this would look very strange to anyone watching and that it was always very unwise to hit your elderly physician.

T
HE
DAY
continued to be glorious. By midday it was so warm we stopped under the coolness of the trees to rest for an hour. Once more the camp table and chairs were erected and excellent food was produced. I had nothing to do but lounge in a chair and watch Aleksey. It was very pleasant. I was dressed only in a shirt, and this open well down my chest, and some trousers fashioned in the Powponi style from softest buckskin tucked into my boots. How the soldiers tolerated their heavy wool shirts and stocks, waistcoats and coats I could not imagine. I suggested to Major Parkinson that he allow everyone to disrobe somewhat, as this was not a military expedition, but he eyed my state of undress and replied waspishly that standards must be maintained. I loosened my shirt some more and stretched out in the chair.

I was wakened suddenly and very unpleasantly by a loud shot. Once I had spotted Aleksey and seen that he was uninjured and as puzzled as I by the unexpected noise, I followed Captain Rochester and the young lieutenant toward the edge of the trees. The trappers were demonstrating their muskets to the soldiers. They said they had shot a deer, which I doubted, personally. If they had, it would be our only one that day, for the noise had surely frightened off anything else worth taking. I gestured to Aleksey to return with me to the camp, but he wanted to play with the guns. Typical. I left him to it and went back, hoping there was some lunch left. Major Parkinson was still at the table, which did not surprise me. I retook my seat and told him that when we started hunting for food the muskets would be a liability. He grunted, his mouth full. After a few minutes of chewing, he mumbled, “Bad business that thing with His Highness.”

I nodded noncommittally. Knowing Aleksey’s propensity for theatrics as well as I did, there were limitless possibilities to what this
bad business
might be.

“Damn good thing you were there, if you ask me. Loyal. Damn good quality. Like that dog of yours.”

I was not sure I appreciated being likened to an old, faithful pet. “He’s a wolf, and he’s not mine. Loyalty?”

“Rum business if you ask me. Very rum. All those damn peasants. New ideas. Rum bloody business. I met the king once, you know.”

I frowned, trying to find some germ of actual sense in his ramblings. “Gregor?”

“Who? Charles. Mad as a rabid dog. Nice chap, though. More sausage?”

W
E
MADE
very good time for the rest of the day. I began to reassess my estimation of how long it would take us to get to the falls. I had always traveled to the extent of our land with more interruption. Riding anywhere with Aleksey was always distracting, and we took frequent stops—sometimes just to hunt, but I confess sometimes not. Now, however, with such steady progress, we were already well into our journey and had come to the tributary of the great river that we now needed to follow to its source. There was a broad, shallow access point with a strip of grass between the water and the trees, and it seemed an ideal location to stop for the night.

While the camp was being set up by the soldiers, I took the opportunity to sit with the officers and show them the route I planned for us to take. First of all, though, before maps could be produced, I asked Major Parkinson simply, “What is the aim of this mission, sir?”

He chewed the end of his moustache for a while, then nodded. “Good question, sir. Very good question. You have observed, no doubt, we are a very small force. Certainly won’t be seeing off a rebellion single-handedly, no sir. I’ll leave that to you sort of chaps. Rum business that. Very rum. We’re on an exploratory mission, I suppose you would call it.”

Aleksey interrupted. “We’re on a
rescue
mission. We’re going to find everyone and rescue them.”

“From cannibals?”

“Cannibals?” The three officers stared at me. The man of God paled and glanced anxiously at his wife.

I regrouped. “I apologize. I was being…. So, we go to the fort, confirm the desertion of the—”

“Strong word, Doctor.” My eyes swiveled to Captain Rochester. “No one is speaking of desertion.”

“An abandoned fort rather speaks for itself, no?”

Aleksey’s eyes were flicking between us. I had not told him of my thoughts on the fort, as I knew he would also object to such a thing. His own sense of honor would lead him to believe no other man could behave in such a manner. I found it entirely reasonable to assume being stuck in a ramshackle fort in the middle of the biggest wilderness known to man, obeying orders from a country thousands of miles away, would lead any man worth his salt to look around and think… why? As to the colonists, I assumed once the fort was abandoned, they also decided to leave. What kind of life could they have made where they were, facing the French and the allied tribes? For all we knew, they were all on their slow way back to the seaboard. We might even bump into them on this ridiculous trip.

Poor Aleksey. He wanted mysterious disappearances, strange emanations, writing on walls, abandoned meals, something exciting and even frightening. He was going to get a pile of abandoned logs or a soggy group of people who had decided living unguarded next to the most ferocious tribes in this area was not very pleasant. But I wanted to be sure that is what we were going to do, just confirm the place was empty, make a desultory search in case they were all lying a close distance away and slightly wounded or some such other very unlikely event, and then return—Major Parkinson to report the situation to his superiors, and me to my necessary routines to prepare for winter.

Captain Rochester leaned closer to me. “If the place is abandoned, then they were set upon and murdered by the foul dregs of humanity that lives in these woods.”

I frowned again. “Englishmen? You think they were murdered by Englishmen?” I had enjoyed many years’ practice annoying Aleksey; this man was no match for me.

“Indians! Sodding heathens!”

Major Parkinson made a half-apologetic, half-embarrassed kind of cough, glancing at Mrs. Wright, who rose and left the table, but Captain Rochester ignored this and added in a low voice, “I am aware that not everyone shares my view of the heathen scum, but if you had ever met any, sir, you would be of my opinion on them.”

I was on tricky ground here. I had not only met them but lived as one of them (indeed, still thought of myself as one of them and coming more and more to that belief the longer we lived back in this land), and we would indeed have made very short shrift of a small fort such a long way from its headquarters—and all the colonists. I would have probably gone in first, a lost European child crying piteously for my mother…. Not such good memories now that I reflect upon it and have lived amongst European people again.

Aleksey seemed to divine my thoughts, for he attempted to lighten the conversation with some of his theories. He was always amusing, but when he was actually trying to be funny he was irresistible. He soon had all three officers laughing at his enthusiasm to find all manner of unlikely things, and my brewing argument with Captain Rochester was forgotten.

I rose from the table and went down to the river, intending to wash before eating. I had not gone far out of sight of the encampment when I sensed someone just ahead of me. I had an arrow notched and ready when I heard a gasp—female—and lowered my weapon. Mary Wright gave a small curtsey and apologized for startling me. I told her she should not have wandered so far away from the protection of her family. She glanced around nervously at the towering trees and nodded, curtseying again. I expected her to follow me when I turned around, but she put out her hand and touched my arm. “Sir, could I impose upon you to keep a watch while I…?” Naturally she wanted to wash and do other things I suppose women do equally as men. I nodded. What else could I do?

I went a little way back behind a dense bush and squatted down between her spot at the river and the path from the camp. I heard some rustling, and then to my surprise a dress appeared, thrown across the bush, and then some more garments—
unmentionables
. I was very taken aback. In my experience, women wash very cleverly and furtively without appearing to take off a single item of clothing. I had always assumed it was some secret knowledge passed down from mother to daughter. I had been a doctor, so I was not wholly unfamiliar with the fairer sex. Even examining a female, I had never once seen one undress, but fastenings had mysteriously been loosened for access here and there. So this uninhibited shedding of clothing struck me as very odd.

I was debating returning to the camp for some reinforcement when I heard another gasp from the direction of the young woman and then a soft cry for assistance. I rose uncertainly. “What is wrong?”

“My foot is trapped. I cannot rise.”

“Are you decent?”

“Oh, sir, the current is strong here. I cannot swim.”

Fuck!
I pulled some of the clothing off the bush, holding it out in front of me as I approached. I saw a figure in the water, and then it screamed, “Do not throw my gown! It will get wet, and I do not have another!”

Fuck!
I pulled off my own shirt and then threw that in the direction of the white flesh. When I was sure it had been donned, I waded into the river. She had indeed got her ankle between two rocks. Quite how she had achieved this was a mystery to me, and it came free very easily when I persuaded her to try twisting it in the opposite direction to the one she had been trying. I carried her out of the water and placed her down upon the sandy bank. “Can you stand unaided?” I was such a gentleman sometimes it surprised me. She tried but collapsed against me. I was naked from the waist up and could feel the warmth of her skin through the soaking shirt she was wearing, and some alarming points of hardness brushing against my chest. I bent and retrieved her own clothes and thrust them at her. Before I could stop her, she had stripped off my shirt and was handing it shyly to me.

“Why did you…?” Aleksey’s voice faltered, as well it might. I don’t think in all the years he had known me that this was a scenario he had ever expected to encounter. I was about to laugh and explain, but Mary Wright gave a small cry of distress and began to struggle against me, which was odd, seeing as I was not holding her in any way and was only trying to get her to cover herself.

“Please, sir, Your Highness, help me. I was… and he… oh….” She sank upon the ground, sobbing, still naked, her dress bunched in her fists. I stood looking down at her, my wet shirt in my hands. For once, I was entirely speechless. I looked mutely at Aleksey, suddenly very anxious as to what he might say about this little scene.

He was looking at her distressed state very closely. He came over and crouched down by her, seeming to ignore me, which cut me to the quick, I confess. I could not see this having a good outcome. Aleksey put a hand out and very gently helped her to dress, which was a decided improvement, if you ask me. Then as he assisted her to stand, he asked quietly, “Why are you lying? I was sitting up there on the bank the whole time and saw and heard everything.”

She flicked her gaze up to him and wrenched her arm out of his hand. “Perhaps you were too focused yourself on my body, sir, to know rightly what you saw or heard.”

Aleksey nodded as if this might be an explanation but rejoined, still in his quiet voice (I had much cause to fear this tone, so was very glad it was not directed at me for once), “No, I have slept with princesses and queens, you must remember, so your body held no attraction for me at all. So, I repeat, why are you lying?” She slapped his face very hard, pushed past him, and began to run back to the camp.

We were silent for a while. I toed the ground and observed without looking at him, “You were not on the bank.”

“No. I saw nothing until I came around the bush, looking for you.”

“You found me.”

“I did.”

“And?”

He chuckled, and I looked up to find him smirking in his wickedness. “I rescued you. I think I was just in time.”