Whitefire (32 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Whitefire
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Katerina frowned. “Mikhailo said he has a raging fever and his body is racked with chills. Mikhailo is ministering to him in the kitchen, where the heat from the fire is constant. We couldn't take a chance of him infecting the others. Especially your men, as you leave tomorrow. You have a long ride ahead of you, and nothing must go wrong.”
Banyen and Katerina sat watching Stepan as he fiddled away, his eyes merry and his fingers flying with the bow. Banyen leaned back on the rough chair and let his eyes travel to Halya. He
had
to talk with her before he left. What was wrong with him? For days he had promised himself that he would seek her out, but there hadn't been time. He had to do it tonight, before he left, or he would never do it.
Mikhailo walked back into the cavern and, with a nod to Katerina to show that Kostya was resting, strode to the center and took the fiddle from Stepan and began playing. The young Cossack raised his arms and started to dance. The faster Mikhailo played, the faster Stepan's feet flew, up and down, up and down, his feet shooting out in front of him precariously. The men shouted encouragement as he continued with his wild dance.
Katerina felt Halya rise rather than saw her move to make her way to join Kostya. Her eyes were on the dancing Stepan and Rokal, who suddenly entered the middle of the ring. Mikhailo's fiddle stopped, and Stepan stood up and bowed low, a wild grin on his face.
Rokal shouted to be heard over the wild clamors of “More, more!” “My mother used to call me a dancing fool!” He laughed. “What this Stepan can do, I can do. Play, Mikhailo!” he shouted imperiously. Full of vodka and good food, Rokal steadied himself and began to imitate Stepan's movements, to the amusement of his comrades. Seeing that his legs were going in different directions, Rokal sat down in the middle of the floor, a look of defeat on his face. Suddenly he grinned and jumped up and raced to the table where Katerina sat. He pulled her to her feet. “You promised, back in the Urals, that you would dance for us again. Now is your chance. Music, loud music,” he ordered Mikhailo.
Banyen grinned at the look on Katerina's face. She had promised, and now she had to dance. Good. This was the perfect time for him to seek out Halya. She would be with Kostya. Katerina wouldn't miss him, and he would be back by the time she was finished with her dancing.
No one paid any heed to his leave-taking; all eyes were on Katerina and Mikhailo.
Banyen crouched down in the kitchen and looked at Kostya's flushed face. The man was lying on a sable carpet and covered to his chin by another length of fur. The princess sat next to him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
She looked up at Banyen, despair written on her beautiful face. She stood up and brushed her hair from her forehead. “One moment he is lucid and the next he's . . . he . . . It's been so long, and now when I've found him, he . . . It's so unjust. What if he dies?” she wailed.
“He won't,” Banyen said, quietly. “He's survived worse than this. Mikhailo says the fever will abate by morning. Believe the old man. Katerina says he is well versed in herbs and medicines. You must believe and have hope. If you don't, you can't survive. Katerina told me of his search for you and you for him. He will survive.”
“If I could only believe that,” Halya whimpered. “It can't all be for nothing. I don't want to live if he dies. I couldn't bear to go through endless days knowing I would never see his face again. I just couldn't.” Suddenly she threw herself into Banyen's arms and sobbed brokenheartedly. Banyen was jolted backward as she flung herself at him. He reached out to grasp her waist in order to break his momentum, and Halya came to rest against his chest, his arms around her to still her shaking and trembling.
Awkwardly he mouthed soothing words of comfort, and gradually felt her relax against him. His arms still around her, he gently pushed her a little away from him and looked down at her. “It will be all right. Nothing is going to happen to Kostya. He's young and strong and if he could survive the winter here in the fortress, he can survive this illness. I've seen fevers such as his many times in the Mongol camps, and it's a temporary illness. Believe me, he'll survive,” he said, patting her on the cheek the way an indulgent father would pat a child.
Halya smiled tremulously and reached up and kissed him lightly on the mouth.
Banyen blushed and turned to see Katerina standing in the doorway. He blinked at the look on her face. She didn't think, she couldn't think . . . To his tortured eyes she resembled a tapered candle flame ready to spring to life. He watched as she swallowed hard and ran from the room.
“Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!” Katerina whimpered as she ran down first one corridor and then another till she came to her room. Panting, she raced inside, slamming the door behind her. Quickly she threw the heavy bolt and leaned against the stout door, her hands to her cheeks. Oh, God, he didn't, he couldn't. It was all a lie, a trick. A dirty, sneaky Mongol trick. Fool! her mind shrieked. Stupid, foolish Cossack woman! She had believed all his lies. “I knew I should never have trusted his damn slanted eyes,” she moaned as she slid to the floor, her back never leaving the door. She sat huddled there for what seemed like hours.
Some time later, a knock sounded on the door. Katerina's eyes flew open but she said nothing, her body stiff and rigid.
“Katerina! It's not what you think. Open the door so I can talk to you. I can't leave you thinking what you're thinking. I love you,” Banyen said harshly.
“Liar!” Katerina whispered.
“It's not what you think. I'll not apologize for something I didn't do,” he called through the door in an agonized voice.
“Bastard!” Katerina hissed between clenched teeth.
“I'm asking you to let me in so that we can talk. We must clear this up before I leave. I won't ask you again.”
“Dirty, sneaky Mongol, I should have known better than to believe your lies. All men lie,” she muttered to herself, the tears streaming down her cheeks. “I believed you and you lied to me,” she whimpered as she crawled to a warm place near the fire. “It was the horses, it was always the Cosars. I saw the way you looked at the princess and I . . . I still thought, I still believed that you could love me. Liar!”
Banyen, standing outside, refused to believe the silence that roared in his ears.
“Katerina, I meant every word I said to you. I love you, I'll love you for the rest of my life. You didn't see me do anything except comfort the princess. Ask her yourself. It's you that I love. Let me prove it to you.”
“You would lie to it and the princess would swear to it,” Katerina whispered. “Oh yes, you can try to prove it, come into this room and rape me again. Oh no, Mongol, this is the last time you make a fool out of me. I believed you, I loved you!” she cried.
“If you loved me, you would open this door!” Banyen shouted gruffly.
“Well, I don't love you anymore. Go! Take the stallions, I no longer care. You know where they are. Take them. All of them,” she shrieked, long and loud. “That's all you ever wanted. You lied to me. You tricked me. Take the stallions, that's what you wanted all the time. They're my gift to you on leaving!” She continued to shriek.
Stunned, Banyen could only stare at the door. His shoulders slumped as he lashed out with his booted foot to kick at the door. Damnable woman, if she thought he was going to stand here and beg her, she had another thought coming! He rubbed at his temples as a film swept over his eyes. He shook his dark head and was jolted from his angry thoughts by the sound of Katerina's heartrending sobs. They tore at him, ate at him, as he walked away, his head lowered, his shoulders shaking. He knew he would never see her again.
When all the sound ceased outside the door, Katerina jumped to her feet and threw back the bolt. He was gone! A few moments of pleading and he was gone! That was all the time he could allot her, a few seconds. He would leave and she would never see him again. What did it matter if he took the stallions? Her life was over. In a few hours he would be gone and she would never see him again.
Throughout the endless night Katerina sat like a sick animal and licked her wounds. Her mood alternated between searing anger and devastating despair. It was over, there was no point now to anything. All her magnificent plans to regain the Cosars would never come to fruition. It always came back to the horses. She told herself she was a fool. A foolish, lovesick woman who couldn't see what was in front of her eyes. Banyen must be beside himself with glee, she thought bitterly. Another conquest to add to his credit. Fool! Fool! her mind shrieked.
An hour before dawn she stood up to ease her cramped legs, and was about to crawl into bed when she heard banging.
“Katerina, I have to speak with you,” Mikhailo called through the thick door.
“Go away. There is nothing to talk about,” Katerina answered.
“Open the door, there is much to be said. We have to talk.”
“It's over, finished. There is nothing to discuss. Go away.”
“I stand here alone, no one is with me.”
“I don't believe you. The Mongol put you up to this. I wouldn't open the door to him, and now he thinks he'll use you to get to me. I thought you were my friend, Mikhailo. From the first you liked him, all he has to do is ask you to intervene and you do it. Go away.”
“Have I ever lied to you? You know I haven't,” he continued to plead. “Open the door, and you can lock it again as soon as I am inside. I tell you, I'm alone.”
“If you're lying to me, I swear I'll kill you, Mikhailo. I'm in no mood for tricks. Swear to me on the icon.”
“I swear to you on the icon. Now open the door.”
Katerina slid the bolt and quickly looked right and left. Mikhailo was alone. Her mouth tightened into a grim line as she stood aside for him to enter. Damn sneaky Mongol, he couldn't even have Mikhailo plead his cause, she thought unreasonably.
Mikhailo was shocked at Katerina's appearance. Her eyes seemed as cold and dead as the ashes that lay in the grate. The deep purplish smudges on her tawny cheeks frightened him. Quickly he threw logs on the fire and poked at the ashes with tongs, his mind racing with the words he wanted to say. He had never thought he would live to see the day when she could be cowed like a cornered animal. Where was her spirit, the sense of fairness that she was known for? Females were stubborn, he knew, but he had never thought stubbornness was one of Katerina's traits.
“What is it? What did you want to talk about? Whatever it is, I'm not interested in hearing it. I only allowed you in this room to show you that I care for you.”
“The Mongols are preparing to leave. If you look outside the window you'll see them. Banyen is leaving,” he said distinctly, making sure she heard him. “He was in the kitchen talking to Kostya for a few moments before he left to see to his men. Kostya, in case you're interested, is no better. I haven't been able to make the fever abate. He's been in a delirium since midnight. Once or twice he has had lucid moments, but then he lapses into his ramblings again. I am concerned, and I tell you this because I know you are worried about him.”
“Was worried. I'm no longer worried,” Katerina said in a flat voice. “I've changed my mind since last night. When he recovers, if he recovers, they can leave. You'll take them to Volin and give them the gold I promised. I don't care what they do, I don't care where they go. Harness the stallions together and give them to the Mongol. All of them, even Whitefire. I never want to see those animals again. Tell him . . . tell him they are . . . Just give them to him,” she said bitterly. “Leave me now, Mikhailo, and no tricks. The stallions are mine to do with as I see fit, and I want that bastard to have them. Every day for the rest of his life I want him to remember where he got them and why. Do it, Mikhailo, and no questions.”
The Cossack stood, dismay covering his face. She couldn't be serious. Not the stallions! His mouth worked convulsively as he waited for her to throw the bolt on the door so he could leave.
“No tricks, Mikhailo. I'll watch from the window to be sure the horses are outside. If you harness and ready them, they'll not kick up a fuss. They'll follow him docilely. Do it!”
The ring of iron in her voice startled him, but he said nothing. What could he do? He was an old man.
 
Banyen's face wore a look of controlled anger when he entered the kitchen. Kostya looked up from his cocoon near the fire, and Banyen was relieved to see that though his face was heated and his hands trembled, his mind was clear. Banyen dropped to one knee and spoke in a hushed tone so that Halya wouldn't hear him.
 
Kostya frowned, but listened intently to the prince. Weakly he nodded his head, agreeing to look after Katerina during Banyen's absence, and tried to wipe at the perspiration on his brow.
Banyen placed a hand on Kostya's shoulder. “Each of us must do what he must do; I know that you understand this and hold no animosity toward me. That is the only reason I'm here now. You have many qualities that I admire, and I wish you well. Perhaps we'll meet again someday. If not, this is our last farewell.” He was saddened as he watched Kostya's eyes cloud. He was no longer lucid but mumbling strange, incoherent words that Banyen didn't understand.

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