Love Storm (50 page)

Alex would smile ironically and say, "Nor I,
madame,
nor I."

Their second child, a daughter named Ninia, was born two years later in a mountain aul, and the family prospered, vastly content with each other.

They raised their small family essentially outside the society of the world, endless versts from the nearest town. Alex made peace with the old Tartar, his grandfather-in-law, for they had much in common; they were both autocratic, arrogant, proud, and self-willed.

Over the years, Alex became indistinguishable from his mountain brethren. When he wore the tcherkness and sheepskin papak, rifle slung on his shoulder and kinjal thrust in his belt, a more vivid likeness of a wild mountain tribesman you couldn't conceive.

The Alexander Kuzans would spend portions of the year at the
dacha,
briefly visiting St. Petersburg and Nice. The small family much preferred the peace and tranquillity of the high mountain valley, where Alex had built for them a fortress aerie clinging to the harsh granite escarpment like a bird of prey.

Zena traveled throughout the labyrinthine mountain auls, researching and compiling a definitive study of migration routes through the transcaucasian corridors to Europe. As each volume was completed, Alex had it published, beautifully illustrated with intricate maps, magnificent aquatints by Vrubel, and countless photographs that he as amateur photographer contributed.

"Luckily," he would tease Zena lightly, "I have a tremendous ego, a notable lack of inclination to excel, prompted no doubt by the idle leisure of my upbringing, and unfathomable love and admiration for my wife. Else I could be quite quelled by the prominent reputation you are developing as historian."

He was flatteringly kind in his raillery and inexpressibly modest of his own achievements, for not only did he run five large estates efficiently and profitably but in conjunction with his father and brothers oversaw the sprawling, prosperous industrial empire of gold mines, oil wells, and refineries, which was the base and mainstay of the Kuzan fortune.

As the years passed, father and son became a familiar sight roaming the mountain trails. An incongruous pair at first glance, the son was as light and fair as the father was dark. But the slanting eyes bespoke consanguinity, and the stark cheekbones and straight noses duplicated each other, while the formidable, powerful strength of limb and muscle was already evident in the lean, strapping adolescent who rode at his father's side. Reared to respect the mountain ways, the young boy learned to ride with daring, speak the truth, and never show fear.

Ibin Iskandar As-saqr As-saghir the lithe, tall, blond stripling was called. Alexander's Boy, The Young Falcon.

The rumblings of discontent, the growing flames of revolutionary fervor, the violent, chaotic disruptions of society, fed by the winds of peasant despair, were heard but from a great distance. The majestic mountain ranges protected the prince's family from these turbulent discontents. Alex was aware that the floodgates would soon break, and he had made the necessary emergency plans for his family's future. Gold had been sent abroad, and the
Southern Star
had been moved from Nice to Poti. But he was hopeful that the mountains would continue to protect his family as they had the countless mountain tribes dwelling two thousand years apart from the mainstream of history. Perhaps they could remain in their mountain aerie, aloof from the smoldering disintegration of the thousand-year-old empire that was being torn asunder because of disparate, discordant political schisms and an inept, blundering, intractable tsar.

Alex hoped to remain apart from the fractious dissent, preferring to nurture his family in peaceful solitude. But if that wasn't possible, an escape route had been readied. His prudent caution was wasted on his son, though. The Young Falcon had different ideas, ideas fostered in years of mountain rearing, where the warrior's life becomes all.

Despite his father's wariness and worldly counsel, the young boy already had quite different ideas. He had chosen with all the idealism of youth; bold, sure, and certain of his reasons. When the conflagration came, he rode off against his parents' wishes to fight for his heritage.