As Eagles Fly

by Barbara Cartland

  Lord Athelstan shrugged his shoulders.

  “The storytellers in the bazaars always have to produce a new tale to titillate the ears of their listeners and what could be more romantic than that I should carry off a captive from under the Imam’s nose?”

  He laughed.

  “It would have been a rather difficult thing to do with the great Shamyl accompanying us in person some way from Dargo-Vedin – an honour, I understand, accorded to few people.”

  “That is certainly true!” the Colonel agreed. “He has not been seen for years and he does not have many visitors.”

  “I am not surprised,” Lord Athelstan answered. “His home is extremely uncomfortable.”

  He yawned and said,

  “I hope you will forgive me, Colonel, if I retire to bed. It has been a long day getting here and tomorrow I have to find a ship to carry me to Constantinople.”

  “But of course,” the Colonel replied, “I must not keep you up. As soon as my men are rested, we will proceed on our journey.”

  “You must not think me inhospitable if I say I hope that you will not stay long,” Lord Athelstan said. “My men also are tired. It was very hot this afternoon and the climb up the mountain pass was extremely exhausting.”

  “I understand,” Colonel Straganov said. “At the same time, my Lord, you are quite certain that the Field-Marshal was mistaken in paying any heed to this rumour?”

  “My dear Colonel, do you really believe that I would wish to involve myself in a situation that concerns only Shamyl, who desires the return of his son, and Prince David, who awaits his wife and family?”

  The Colonel did not answer and Lord Athelstan went on,

  “I have made it a rule all my life not to take sides in local disputes. I represent Great Britain and am concerned only with her interests and with no others.”

  “Britain is not a friend of the Russians,” the Colonel stated ponderously.

  “Unfortunately that is true for the moment,” Lord Athelstan agreed.

  He rose to his feet.

  “As I have already said, Colonel, I would wish to retire. Please help yourself to wine and I am sure that it will not be long before you are pressing on to Batoum.”

  The two men shook hands and Lord Athelstan lifted the curtain that separated the outer part of his tent from his bedroom and passed through it.

  Inside he stood for a moment wondering what he should do. Had he been wise in leaving the Colonel alone? He thought it would show how unconcerned he was. Equally he was afraid that the Russians would be suspicious enough to force their way on some pretext or another into the other tents.

  It was easy to trip over a rope and, in falling, clutch at the flap, which would give way in their hands.

  He could only trust and pray that Natasha would not be discovered.

  This he knew was potentially a more dangerous situation than any they had encountered so far and he could only hope that he was playing his role sensibly and disarmingly.

  He had thought, although he could not be sure, because the Colonel’s grim face showed no emotion, that he had convinced him that the charges were incorrect.

  At the same time he was afraid. He was afraid both where Natasha was concerned and also for his own reputation. There was, however, nothing he could do. Natasha would have overheard what was said.

  Hawkins, although he must have been surprised at learning that the Prince had not accompanied them from Tiflis, would know that Lord Athelstan had a good reason for saying so and could be relied on to support him.

  Slowly Lord Athelstan undressed.

  He could hear the Colonel refill his glass in the outer part of the tent.

  The Russians seated at the campfire must also have been drinking as their voices were growing noisy and excited.

  ‘They must be getting drunk!’ Lord Athelstan thought.

  Then he wondered if they were acting a part.

  Was this the moment when they would knock over the tents or fall inside one ‘accidentally’ and thus be able to see what it contained?

  Putting on a silk robe that reached the ground, he pushed aside the curtain.

  The Colonel looked up at his appearance, a glass in his hand.

  “Your men sound very merry,” Lord Athelstan said. “It will be hard to sleep when they are making so much noise.”

  “I must give them a chance to rest,” the Colonel replied surlily. “As I have already told your Lordship, we have come a long way.”

  “It hardly sounds to me as if they are resting!” Lord Athelstan remarked acidly.

  As he spoke, he saw a man rise from the campfire and stagger unsteadily towards Natasha’s tent, which was the nearest to him.

  Just as Lord Athelstan had expected he might do, he fell over the ropes, reached out to clutch at the flap that covered the entrance of the tent and pulled it open.

  The light from the fire revealed the inside.

  There was a mattress on the ground, some luggage and a pile of cushions, but otherwise the tent was empty!

  Lord Athelstan drew in a deep breath.

  Then, for fear he might say more than would be expected in the circumstances, he said sharply to Colonel Straganov,

  “I think your soldiers should be a little more careful!”

  “I will tell them,” the Colonel answered. “We shall be going shortly.”

  “Before they do any more damage, I hope!” Lord Athelstan retorted. “Goodnight, Colonel!”

  He went back into his bedroom. It had been difficult to prevent his voice from showing his relief.

  Natasha had been wise enough to slip away from her tent. Doubtless she was hiding somewhere and would return once the soldiers were gone.

  Wherever she might be, Lord Athelstan knew that he dared not show any interest in her movements.

  As he stood there thinking, the curtain was drawn aside and the Colonel looked in.

  “I only wanted to apologise, my Lord,” he said. “I am sorry that my men should get so drunk so quickly. It’s just that we have been travelling all day without food and in those circumstances alcohol quickly goes to their heads.”

  “Yes, yes, of course!” Lord Athelstan replied. “I understand.”

  He knew that the Colonel was making his apologies only so that he could inspect the inside of his tent.

  The Soldier’s sharp eyes took in the pile of cushions, the travelling dressing table that always accompanied Lord Athelstan wherever he went, the leather boxes that had contained his clothes and requisites for the night.

  There was nowhere that anyone could possibly hide and the Colonel drew back.

  “Goodnight, my Lord! I hope we will not disturb you again.”

  “I too hope not!” Lord Athelstan replied with meaning.

  He was so angry at the bare-faced intrusion that he could hardly bring himself to speak without letting the Colonel know how furious he was.

  But he knew that would be a mistake.

  Whatever happened, he must ignore the Russians’ suspicions and pretend that they did not exist.

  To appear discomfited would only arouse them to further efforts, perhaps to search the neighbourhood of the camp, in which case they might find Natasha.

  He heard the Colonel sit down again at the table.

  The men’s voices around the fire were growing quieter and he knew that having discovered nothing they were ceasing to pretend to be inebriated and getting ready for their departure.

  ‘Damn them!’ he thought, ‘Once they have gone, I can look for Natasha.’

  He blew out the lantern, took off his robe, threw it down and pulled back the blankets over the fine linen sheets that Hawkins had covered his special mattress with.

  There were a number of his pillows filled with goose feathers and he pushed some of them aside.

  Then he blew out the other lantern that stood beside his bed.

  He would show the Colonel, he thought, that he was quite uninterested in anything the Russians might do. To
ignore their behaviour would be more convincing than anything he could say.

  He turned over to lie on his other side and, as he did so, felt something warm, soft and frightened lying beside him.

  For a moment he was incredulous!

  It could not be true!

  Then he reached out and drew Natasha roughly into his arms.

  Just for a moment he held her against him, then his mouth came down on hers.

  Chapter Seven

  At first Natasha was only conscious of the hardness of Lord Athelstan’s lips and that they hurt her.

  Then, as his kiss became gentler and at the same time more demanding, more possessive, she felt a feeling of wonder and rapture seep over her.

  He held her tighter still and then his lips were on her eyes, her cheeks and the softness of her neck. She quivered against him, no longer frightened but awakened by a strange sensation that she had not known existed.

  It was a dry cough from the other side of the curtain that made them acutely aware that one sound, one murmur might betray them.

  It seemed in some extraordinary way to intensify for Natasha the poignancy of the thrills that made her breath come quickly.

  Lord Athelstan kissed her lips again and then he pulled her nightgown from her shoulder to kiss her bare skin.

  Now he was tender.

  She felt him move his lips over her neck, no longer being demanding and possessive. He touched her as a man might touch a flower, feeling the velvet of it sensuously against his mouth.

  She felt more excited than she had ever felt in her life and at the same time she felt safe.

  He was holding her, protecting her.

  She was in his arms and she felt as if nothing in the world could hurt her now.

  Suddenly a voice on the other side of the curtain made them jump.

  “We’ve found nothing, honourable Colonel!” a man’s voice said in Russian.

  “Are you sure – quite sure?” the Colonel asked.

  “We have searched the whole camp. It must have been a mistake!”

  “Perhaps!” the Colonel said doubtfully.

  There was the sound of him pushing back his chair and rising to his feet.

  Both Lord Athelstan and Natasha were very still, listening intently.

  “We will go!” the Colonel said.

  “To Batoum, sir?”

  “No. We will start on our way back. The Field-Marshal wanted my report as soon as I could bring it to him.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  They heard the soldier go from the tent and give a command to the others waiting outside.

  The sound of bridles jingling told them that the soldiers were mounting their horses.

  The Colonel gave an exclamation expressive of frustration and then followed.

  They listened to his footsteps moving away.

  He spoke to Hawkins and, as they still waited breathlessly, there was the clatter of horses’ hooves moving first at a trot and then at a gallop into the distance.

  It seemed to Natasha as if an eternity had elapsed while she had been unable to breathe.

  Now she gave a deep sigh of relief and, as she did so, Lord Athelstan sought her lips and kissed her again.

  He kissed her until she felt that the tent, the camp, the country around them had disappeared. It was as if he swept her up over the snow-capped mountains and into the sky until there was nothing left of the world and they were alone in a Paradise of their own.

  At last he raised his head,

  “My darling! My sweet!” he said unsteadily. “Once again we have escaped!”

  “I knew I – would be – safe with – you!” she whispered.

  “I was afraid – terribly afraid that you would not understand or that someone would see you moving out of the camp.”

  “It was much – easier to come – here,” Natasha answered, “and I knew that – you would – protect me.”

  “Do you think that is what I am doing?” he asked with a note of amusement in his voice.

  She turned her face against his shoulder.

  “I did not – know that a – kiss could be so – wonderful!”

  “You have never been kissed before?”

  “No.”

  “Perhaps I was meant to be the first. I too never knew either that a kiss could be like that.”

  “So – marvellous?” Natasha questioned.

  “So perfect! Everything I always longed for and missed.”

  His lips touched her cheeks as if he reassured himself that she was there and then he said,

  “I have so wanted you like this, with your hair falling over your shoulders.”

  He touched it as he spoke, feeling it soft as silk beneath his fingers, knowing it was so long that it would reach below her waist.

  He took up a handful of it, kissed it, then swept it back from her face and kissed her lips and her ears.

  “Tomorrow I want to look at you,” he said. “I want to see you as a woman, not as a boy!”

  Natasha did not answer and after a moment he said as if he was speaking to himself,

  “It sounds impossible, but I have an idea of what we must do.”

  “What is it?” Natasha enquired.

  “I will tell you in the morning. Now I ought to let you sleep.”

  “Do you want me to go back to my own – tent?”

  Lord Athelstan gave a little laugh.

  “Do you really think I would let you go? No, my darling, you must stay here with me. I cannot lose you. I cannot bear that you should be away from me!”

  They both knew, although he did not say it, that they had so short a time together, perhaps only three more days and then they would have to part forever.

  As if the urgency of time impressed itself on Lord Athelstan, he began kissing Natasha again.

  Now his lips were so demanding and passionate that they aroused a response in her and she kissed him back, her breath coming quickly, her body moving against his.

  “I love – you,” he murmured.

  The words seemed to force themselves from between his lips.

  She was still for a moment before she asked,

  “Is that – true? Do you really – love me?”

  “I have loved you ever since the first moment I saw you,” he answered, “when I thought that you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. But when you raged at me, I thought I was angry with you, but it was really because I was appalled and furious at what you intended to do.”

  He paused and added,

  “Besides I thought you hated me!”

  “I believed I did!” Natasha admitted. “I wished you to do what I wanted and, because you objected, I wanted to think of you as a – stupid insensitive Englishman. Instead – ”

  She paused.

  “Instead?” Lord Athelstan prompted.

  “I found myself longing for you, wanting you, loving – you.”

  “Oh, my precious, my brave little love!” he cried and he kissed her until once again the world was lost and they were alone in an empty sky.

  “You are like an eagle,” she told him, her voice low and deep.

  “Why do you say that?” he asked.

  “You are so imperious – omnipotent – above the world!”

  “That is what I have wanted to be,” Lord Athelstan replied.

  He remembered that moment when he had stood at the window in the Palace.

  “An eagle is a ‘king among birds’!” Natasha whispered.

  “And he can be very lonely,” Lord Athelstan replied, “unless there is another eagle with him – the one he loves!”

  “I feel when you – kiss me that you – carry me away from the – world and into a – boundless sky.”

  “God knows that is what I want to do. Can I really make you forget everything but this?”

  His mouth was on hers as he spoke.

  She put her arm around his neck and drew him closer until she felt they were not two people, but one – and nothing coul
d ever divide them.

  *

  Natasha must have dozed a little before dawn and, when she opened her eyes. she saw in the dim light that had percolated into the tent that Lord Athelstan was up and nearly dressed.

  “Where are you going?” she asked. “It must be very early.”

  “I wish to see Hawkins,” he answered, “but stay where you are. I will come back to you.”

  He put on his coat, took a brief glance at himself in the mirror that stood on his travelling dressing table and passed through the curtain.

  Natasha lay back against the pillows.

  ‘Could any other man be as handsome, as attractive, as wonderful?’ she asked herself.

  She felt as if there were no words to describe him.

  She only knew that because of her love for him she felt like a flower turning its face towards the sun.

  It seemed unbelievable that she should have spent the night in his arms.

  Yet, when she thought of the events leading up to the moment when she had known that there was nowhere else to hide except Lord Athelstan’s bed, she felt it was part of Fate and inevitable.

  But she had never imagined in her most secret dreams that love could come so swiftly or so violently.

  Elizabeth had told her what she felt for Ellico, but that had been merely a juvenile immature emotion compared with what she felt for Lord Athelstan.

  She knew her feeling for him had a depth and a sincerity that was quite unlike anything she had ever expected.

  This was not the romantic feeling of a young girl for a handsome man.

  It was something fundamental, something so much a part of her whole being, that she knew they belonged to each other not only in this life but in many others.

  All that was deep and Slav and mystic within Natasha was aroused to the point when, because she loved Lord Athelstan, she wished to pour out her heart and her soul at his feet.

  This was love as it should be, not the flirtatious posturings of the ballroom or the conservatory, but a love without pretence, primitive in its passion.

  A love that was in her very blood and from which there could be no escape.

  She lay thinking of Lord Athelstan for a long time until the rising sun made the inside of the tent glow with a golden radiance.

  When he pulled back the curtain to enter again, it seemed to her as if he came in an aura of glory.