Whitefire (2 page)
Authors: Fern Michaels
Men made fools of themselves over women. Men fought and died for women. Men lost empires because of women. The only thing he would give a woman was the honor of bearing his child and his name.
Banyen patted the black Arabian stallion fondly and slouched nonchalantly against the animal's hard belly. He straightened his shoulders and shrugged the sable burnoose he wore to a more comfortable position. The soft leather boots that caressed his sinewy legs were due to be changed to fur and warm socks for his feet. He might as well do it now so he could eat his portion of rabbit in comfort.
A small sound suddenly caught his ear, and immediately his hand went to his saber. A horse out here in this godforsaken emptiness! Who? What?
He looked at his men and motioned for silence. Weapons were drawn and the roasting rabbits forgotten as tired eyes became keen and alert. Banyen raised one finger to show that it was a lone rider who approached. “Where there is one, there could be more,” he said softly to his men.
Katerina stared intently in the last rays of the evening light. A camp with a fire. Food! Which Cossack tribe was it camped in the middle of the plain, and why? An uneasy feeling settled over her as the horse trotted closer and closer. Her eyes widened at the garb on the tall figure standing near a horse and the campfire, surrounded by men. Mongols! What would they do? Would they let her pass? Would they believe her when she told them she had Mongol blood in her veins? Not likely. She looked like a Cossack. Her shoulders straightened imperceptibly as she advanced to the camp. Deftly she reined in Bluefire and watched the man who appeared to be the group's leader admiring her gelding.
Neither spoke. Katerina waited. Banyen waited. The men waited. A worm of fear found its way into Katerina's stomach and worked its way up to her chest. She swallowed and looked at the tall man, who was staring at her with bold, arrogant, lustful eyes.
White teeth glistened in the dimness of twilight as Banyen smiled. “Prince Banyen at your service,” he said, bowing low with a flourish. His tone was cool, mocking, as he walked over to her placid horse. Katerina dug her heels into Bluefire's flanks, and the gelding slowly backed away from the advancing Mongol.
Katerina nodded. “What are you doing here? This is Don Cossack land.”
At the sound of the soft, melodious voice Banyen's face registered shock. A woman! “This is Cossack land?” Banyen mocked her words, straining to get a glimpse of her face. “As long as I'm standing on this land, it belongs to meâunless, of course, you would like to fight me for it. I see no Cossacks protecting it. You're a Cossack, aren't you? No one save a Cossack rides pure whites, especially a horse such as yours. Well,” he said harshly, “will you challenge me for this ground I stand on?”
“You can stand here till you take root for all I care,” Katerina snapped. “And, no, I have no wish to challenge you or your men. Others like the vicious Tereks will challenge you.”
Banyen laughed, his head thrown back in merriment. “What others? There is no one on this godforsaken steppe except you, me, and my men,” he said, bowing again. “Come here, let me see what you look like,” he said, advancing. Nimbly, Bluefire again backed off a pace and then two more. “Please,” Banyen said, holding up his hand, “allow me to extend an invitation to dinnerâroast rabbit, newly caught. I insist,” he said, lunging toward her. “Don't make the mistake of refusing my generous offer.”
“I'm not hungry. Thank you for the invitation, but I must ride on.”
“Perhaps the cold has affected your hearing. I said don't refuse my offer!”
The clear amber eyes narrowed. “And I told you I'm not hungry!” Katerina's foot came up and knocked his hand from her arm. Filled with panic, she lowered her head and grasped the gelding's mane as her heels dug into the horse, spurring it on.
A roar of outrage reached her ears as Bluefire raced through the snow. She knew in her heart she would be caught. The gelding was as tired as she was, but the Mongol prince and his stallion looked rested. Oh, God, what was she going to do? You were right, Father, you may yet find my frozen body, but it won't be because of Stepan and Wildflower. Damn him to hell! Who did he think he was, ordering her to share his dinner? Cossack rabbits that were needed for her own people. As she urged the horse to do his best, she turned her head, and momentarily the noble animal was thrown off stride. The stallion was gaining on her. “O God, I don't want to die!” she cried quietly to the shimmering stars.
As she dug her heels into Bluefire's flanks, she apologized to the galloping horse for the pain she was inflicting on him, then begged, “Please, please!”
Out of the corner of her eye she watched the stallion advance, the man's arm outflung to pull her from her seat. Katerina leaned precariously to the right and all but slipped from the animal beneath her. When she righted herself, she was pulled from Bluefire's back and literally flung through the air. She came to rest against the side of the skittery horse, as it was trying to stop.
“Let me go! Take your hands off me!” Katerina screeched.
“And if I do that, what will you do?” Banyen laughed, delighted with this unexpected challenge.
“Kill you, that's what I'll do! I'll scratch your face till it's nothing but a bloody pulp!”
The stallion stood quietly as master and girl spat epithets at each other. “And what do you think I'll be doing while you're scratching my face to a bloody pulp?” Banyen laughed.
“Bleeding!” Katerina snarled.
“A she cat.”
Katerina tried to free herself from her awkward position, one arm pinned against the horse and the other flailing in the air. Each time the man jerked her closer to the horse, her feet left the ground and her arm twisted painfully in his vise-like grip. She bit into her full bottom lip and felt the salty taste of her own blood. Her mind raced as she tried to figure how she could get away from him. Suddenly she relaxed, her muscles loose and flexible. Banyen leaned over to grasp her other arm and draw her atop his horse. Her small fist shot out and made direct contact with his eye. Stunned, he relaxed his hold. Seizing her opportunity to escape, Katerina was off and running instantly, the snow spurting up from her heels. On and on she ran, with no sense of direction. Her breathing was harsh and ragged as the cold, bracing air was forced into her lungs. With her long legs, Katerina could usually outrun most of the youths in the village, but the heavy accumulation of snow was hampering her now and she wondered how much longer she could last. She was so tired. A razor-sharp pain ripped across her chest and Katerina doubled over, falling to her knees. Before she could get to her feet, she found herself pinned to the ground, a lean hard body above her.
Banyen fought to control his own labored breathing as he felt the hot softness of the girl beneath him. The anger he had felt moments before left him and was replaced with a ripe, full-blown passion. Straddling her, Banyen pinned Katerina's arms above her head, then leaned over and brought his mouth down on hers. His head jerked upright as if a snake had bitten him. He felt blood trickle down his chin as he brought his hand up to his mouth. “Bitch!”
“Bastard!”
Banyen reached out a long arm and grasped her ankle as she tried to get away. He flung her back so hard that she felt her head snap. “Stupid Cossack woman, with your thick stockings and a man's boots,” he said harshly as he again forced her to the ground.
“Smelly Mongol pig!” Katerina hissed.
“You belong with a farmer at the plow,” Banyen said raggedly. “What kind of clothes are these?” he demanded, releasing one of her arms so he could finger the thick material of her dress. “Even peasants wear better than this.”
Katerina brought up her knee, and Banyen was thrust backward by the force of her blow. Madly, she scrambled out of his way as he bent over, his muscular hands clutching his groin.
“I hope I kill you!” Katerina screamed as she got to her feet. “When they bury you, I'll sing a dirge about the way you died.”
“Bitch!” Banyen said through the mist that threatened to choke off his vision.
“Bastard! Dirty, sneaky Mongol pig!” Katerina screamed as she plunged recklessly forward. Rough hands seized her and dragged her backward. The men from the campfire!
“Here she is, Banyen! Do you still want her after what she did to you,” one of the leering men asked, “or will you be generous and allow the rest of us to have some sport with her?”
“Bring her here!”
The icy words sent a wave of fear down Katerina's spine. She was flung to the ground and pulled by her long cascading hair to his side.
“One more move out of you and you'll be the first bald-headed Cossack woman on these plains.” He nodded curtly to his men, and they withdrew to the campfire.
“I should kill you for what you just did to me,” Banyen said harshly.
“I won't make it easy for you, so be prepared. How many times can you survive what I just did to you? I'll do it again and again, every chance I get. Let me go, you foul Mongol! I've been in stables that smelled better than you do!”
“And I've smelled and seen better whores than you!” Banyen retaliated.
“Then go find one and leave me alone! I'm warning you, I'll do what I said. Let me go!”
“Not till I see what you look like underneath all those blankets you wear. I'll say one thing for you, you wear enough clothes to cover an army. I'm going to have you one way or another, so why don't you save yourself all this anguish.”
“Men are all alike,” Katerina said hoarsely as she felt his strong hands tear at her clothing. “Why do you have to take a woman physically and degrade her? I'll kill you for this, my word as a Cossack!”
Mist escaped both their mouths as they struggled on his lush sable cape, which lay like a blanket on the hard-packed snow. The silvery moon, hidden behind dark clouds, made it impossible for Banyen to see the face of the young woman beneath him.
“I'm not a cruel manâhard and demanding, perhaps, but women need to know they lie with a man. I'm not one to inflict pain,” he grunted as he tore apart the top of her coarse woolen shirt.
His searching hands on her exposed flesh drove Katerina to near frenzy. By all rights, she should have been freezing to death from the biting pellets of snow that covered her tender skin, but his frantic movements atop her made her oblivious of them. When his scorching lips touched hers, Katerina relaxed every muscle in her body and allowed her lips to respond against his. She moved slightly and opened her mouth invitingly, her tongue seeking his. The moment he tilted his dark head and moved his arm slightly, to position himself better, she sank her teeth into his cheek, and felt the flesh tear when he tried to pull away from her. With one mighty shove, she sent him sprawling backward and was quickly on her hands and knees, crawling away, her clothing hanging in tatters. However, she couldn't resist a parting comment as she scrambled to her feet. “You can mark that down to hearty peasant stock. I told you I wouldn't make it easy for you, and I hope your blood floods this plain!”
A bellow of anger ripped through the night. In two long-legged strides, Banyen had her imprisoned in his arms. Once again she felt her feet leave the ground as she was thrown onto the sable blanket. She resisted the raging Mongol with all the strength left in her, knowing all the while she was no match for him. She felt a reeling blow to the side of her head, and then Katerina knew no more.
Banyen took her brutally, savagely, again and again.
Spent, he staggered to his feet and stood looking down at the naked body of the young girl. A pity he couldn't see what she really looked like in the ebony night. His own words rang in his ears: “I'm not a cruel man . . . I'm not one to inflict pain.” He shrugged. Every man was forced at one time or another to tell a lie. Why should he be any different?
He leaned over the unconscious form and drew his burnoose over his head. Carelessly he tossed it over her bare flesh and walked away, his hand to his cheek, the cut stinging sharply against the palm of his hand. He stopped, the temptation to pick up the burnoose which covered the nude girl was so strong that he had to clench his hands and force himself to walk back to the campsite without it. She needed it more than he did.
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Katerina woke as Bluefire nuzzled her cheek. Her vision was blurred. Moaning softly, she rose to her feet uncertainly and looked around, the inky night cloaking her bruised and battered body as a mother shields her child from harm. There was no sound in the velvety darkness except Bluefire's soft whickers.
Her hands found the burnoose. Shock coursing through her, she dropped it to the snow the moment she realized what it was. Then, painfully, she bent to pick up the rich fur cape and wrapped it around her cold, numb flesh. Bile rose in her throat, and she gagged. She leaned weakly against the horse's side and let the tears flow. To be taken like an animal was more than she could bear.
Who would want her now? She had disgraced her father and her grandfather. She was no longer a virgin.
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