Whitefire

by Fern Michaels

  “Better to do it all at once,” Kostya said helpfully. “One good dousing and the pain in your head will subside, and that tight feeling in your shoulders will lessen. Your mind will clear with the shock of the cold water.”

  “I had too much wine,” Banyen mumbled as he continued to dabble the water on his face and neck.

  “I noticed.” Kostya grinned. “Here, let me help you,” he said, drawing Banyen to his feet. “Stand fast now, and don’t move.” Quickly he thrust out his arm and grasped Banyen around the neck, at the same time wedging his knee in the small of his back. He jerked the prince backward and released him. “How does your upper back feel now?”

  Banyen flexed his arms and shoulders, staring quizzically into bright blue eyes. His headache gone and his back normal, he spoke quietly. “Why did you do that?”

  “You were suffering. I would be less than human if I didn’t offer to help you. Today is a day when all of us will need every ounce of strength we have. How can you do your job if you aren’t fit? I didn’t do it for thanks. If you need my help again, you have only to ask me. There is no thought in my mind to escape, so rest easy. I made a bargain with the woman, and I’ll stick by it.”

  Banyen nodded as he watched Kostya walk back to the camp. “Damnation!” he exclaimed. He believed every word the prisoner said, and was also freed from last night’s overindulgence. His head was clear, and his back felt better than it had in months.

  The camp was bustling. By the time Banyen got back, all was in readiness.

  “I’ve found the place to cross, so let’s be on our way, if it’s convenient for you,” he mocked Katerina.

  She held out his piece of bread. “Here, take this, it will quell your fermenting stomach. You’ll have to eat it as we ride.”

  Banyen rode to the head of the caravan with Katerina at his side, his head throbbing once again. When they were in position, he shouted back to the drivers to follow him.

  They soon arrived at the fording site. After a quick inspection by Katerina, she nodded approval for the wagons to move. One by one, they labored through the water, creaking and groaning as they tilted and slid on the slippery moss-covered rocks. It took more time to cross than Katerina had anticipated; valuable time was lost again. She knew she couldn’t beat the snow. Angrily she urged Banyen and the men to speed up their pace. Katerina was well aware that the men were in no hurry to go anywhere. They were out of the Khan’s stockade, and that was all that mattered to them. They were free of that hellhole.

  Two hours into the first pass, light snow began to fall. Katerina’s heart sank. If it starts this early into the Urals, once we leave the mountains the snow will be waiting on the steppe.

  “Banyen, we must keep moving at a faster pace if we are to make the first mountain by nightfall,” she said harshly. “If you have a keen eye, you should have noticed the flurries. Light snow now means we’re bound to reach heavier snow as we go along. We must keep these men moving, keep after them, they travel as if they have all the time in the world.”

  “You’re overly concerned, I think,” Banyen said. “We’re moving right along, and if we push them they might get angry and rebel. Besides, to go much faster would be risky for the wagons.”

  “I just knew you wouldn’t agree with me,” she said with indignation. “I’ll find a way to get these men to move more rapidly, there must be something that will bait them to hurry. I’ll be back shortly, I’m going to ride up ahead to see how things look.” A sharp kick in the horse’s sides and she was off, cantering down the pass. “I can’t let him make me angry,” she muttered as she rode hard, trying to rid herself of the resentment she felt toward him.

  “A rider coming in the distance,” called one of Banyen’s soldiers.

  “Keep the wagons moving,” Banyen ordered. “It’s the girl returning.”

  Katerina brought her horse to Banyen’s side. “The big mountain is just ahead. From what I could see, the lower slope is still clear of snow, but there’s no way of knowing what we’ll reach a few hundred feet up. We must make our best time on these flats. While I rode I also came up with an idea to entice these men to work harder.”

  The moment the high mountain loomed before them the men began to grumble and groan. They knew immediately they were in for a hazardous climb.

  Katerina ordered the men to form a line and proceed slowly up the mountain. “You prisoners will leave the wagons and travel by foot, climbing and descending. If a wagon gets stuck, or slips, you men will lend a hand any time it is needed. You will put your backs to pushing and pulling when necessary. Banyen, post a guard to watch over them, and at the first wrong move, cut down the troublemaker. This caravan will get through to the Carpathians, even if it means many of your bodies will be strewn along the way to prove I mean what I say!”

  The wagons were emptied, and the trek up the mountain began.

  Two hours before nightfall of the following day, the top ridge of the mountain was in sight. Suddenly a whirlwind of snow unleashed its millions of silent, devastating crystal flakes. It was man against the elements.

  “If we push hard we can make the summit tonight. We should be able to make camp before the snow creates any problems. Hurry! Otherwise you’ll taste your first uphill battle with snow, making everything twice as difficult. You made good time until now, and I’m proud of what you have accomplished,” she said, her voice full of praise and encouragement for the men.

  Banyen sat in his Mongol saddle and watched in amazement as Kostya and the other men put on a show of superhuman effort.

  At nightfall the wagons lined the upper peak, while everyone made ready for their well-earned meal. The bonfires on the ridge cast a magic glow that encircled the mountain. The glowing fires of red-yellow reflected their dance onto the millions of tiny crystals that fell heavily from the heavy skies. Steam rose as the flakes hit the fires, creating the illusion that the breast of the mountain was heaving in its sleep.

  The company ate, some quickly, the smarter ones slowly. Everyone was anxious to get to sleep, their bodies spent from the uphill climb.

  Each fire was sheltered by a lean-to. The guards, who had built them, huddled beneath, keeping watch. The camp was quiet except for Banyen and Katerina, who sat conversing by the fire. Secure in their plans for the downhill trek, Katerina offered Banyen his one long drink of wine. When he finished, she bid him good night and crawled under her blanket next to the fire. The prince, in no mood for another scene, quietly made himself comfortable by the crackling flames. He watched the sleeping girl, somehow drawn to her in spite of her roughness. Why? Why did she intrigue him? Certainly she was beautiful, shapely, and desirable, but so were other women. What lay beneath the outer shell?

  Many nights had been spent in the arms of welcoming, soft women, women eager to please him. Would Katerina ever be so willing? Why in the name of God did he desire a woman who dressed and thought like a man, yet, in her own way, was more of a woman than any who had lain with him?

  Morning found everyone huddled beneath their blankets, covered by cold white snow. Katerina woke to find Banyen sitting by the fire, chewing his piece of bread.

  “You’re awake early,” she said, startled to find him out of bed. “I see you’re eating already. Is the cook also up?”

  “Yes. But the men are still asleep. It’s just you, me, and the cook. Now what do you think of the drunken Mongol?” he asked.

  “I think you’re doing what you are supposed to do. If you want applause, you’ve come to the wrong place,” she replied icily. “Get on with it, wake the men. I want those wagons going down the mountain as soon as possible.”

  When the men had finished eating, Banyen called for their attention. “Listen to me carefully. The wagons must go down the mountain in single file, one at a time, ten lengths apart. That way, if one slips the others will not be caught in the slide. We’ll try the first wagon with the horses, no ropes, and see how it goes. If the wagon slips we’ll have to use the ropes. They’ll be t
ied to the back of each wagon, and we might need one or two up front. Several men will handle each rope, pulling back so we can ease each one down the slope. The unloaded wagon will go first. Bring it up here and harness the horses. Tie the ropes on now, for once it begins to slide it’s too late. You prisoners, divide into groups to walk alongside the wagon, and be prepared to grab the ropes. Number one wagon, move!” he ordered the first team.

  Slowly and carefully the wagon edged its way down the steep grade. The driver strained, leaning far back into the seat, the horses almost sitting on their haunches. Gingerly the animals descended in the ankle-deep snow. One by one they made their way, driver and team working together.

  Katerina called for the food wagon to be brought forward. As it pulled up, she warned the drivers and the men on foot, “If this wagon goes careening down the mountain we’ll eat snow all the way to the Carpathians, if we don’t freeze first. I trust you all agree.” The team prepared to go downward. “One moment, I’ve changed my mind.” At the sound of Katerina’s voice, the men stopped in their tracks. “I’ve decided to send a sleigh wagon down next. If the weight of the sleigh causes the wagon to slide, and the horses can’t control it, we’ll know how to handle the supply wagons. Bring that wagon around to the front,” she ordered the drivers. Katerina could see the concerned look on the faces of the two drivers.

  “Listen to me,” she addressed the men on foot. “You must hold the ropes immediately, so take your positions now. If the wagon goes out of control, release the ropes and save yourselves. You drivers, cut the horses free, then jump. I don’t want any men or animals killed. We can manage without a wagon, but I need every one of you.” With a wave of her hand, the wagon moved ahead.

  Banyen and the others stood on the edge of the crest, watching the agonizing descent. The men strained at the ropes as the wagon, horses, and drivers eased slowly down the decline. Katerina turned to Banyen. “I wish my uncle had never given me these damn wagons. If we were on foot we’d be down near the bottom for all the time the first wagons are taking. I’m sorry I consented to this madness.” She held her breath as a wagon slipped momentarily.

  Suddenly the air was split with a loud, bloodcurdling “Yeow-ow-ow!” Those on the ridge watched in horror as the wagon gave way. The men holding the ropes tried desperately to let go, but they were caught and went cascading down the mountain. The drivers leaped from the wagon, forgetting to cut loose the horses. The animals and men struggled for their lives. The screams of both could be heard everywhere as the wagon reeled into a fir tree, splintering to pieces. The sleigh broke loose, tumbling down the slope. Three prisoners, still tangled in the ropes, were smashed against trees and rocks, until all that remained were broken, lifeless bodies.

  Katerina turned her back on the tragic sight, kicking out at the rock next to her. “I knew it, I knew these damn Mongol wagons were a mistake. Now I’ve lost three men and four horses.”

  Kostya made his way down the slope behind Katerina. Working side by side, they freed the wounded who lay trapped beneath boards from the heavy wagon. Using all his power, Kostya freed one of the men, only to lose him to a dead horse that slid down the snow, dragging the man down with him.

  Stunned at the tears that glistened in Kostya’s eyes, Katerina laid her hand on his arm. “There was nothing you could do. There’s no time to dwell on the matter, others need our help.” Her own words were tortured, a look of agony covering her delicately boned face.

  “Nor can you blame yourself for what happened,” he replied. “Each of us must do the best we can.” Bright blue eyes stared into Katerina’s. “The men will not blame you for this. You have my word.”

  Katerina nodded but said nothing, her throat constricting at his words.

  Diligently they worked together with the help of the other prisoners, binding wounds and helping them to safety. Perspiration dripped from Kostya’s face as Banyen put his arm around him to lead him away. “It’s finished. You have to rest, or you’ll be no good to us the remainder of the journey. A few moments to sit and you’ll be as good as new.” He grinned into the blue eyes. “Call it an act of human nature, mine.”

  Banyen and Katerina agreed that it would be madness to send a second wagon down with the sleigh aboard. Four mounted soldiers were ordered to secure ropes to the sleigh and loop the ends to their saddles. That done, they started down the hazardous mountain.While the others watched breathlessly, the sleigh and soldiers made it safely to the bottom.

  Katerina was beside herself as she realized that the day was passing and all they had accomplished was the descent. She had figured a day, but she had hoped for better time. Again she cursed the wagons.

  The prince walked alongside her and tried to calm her. “Don’t worry, we’ll get these down shortly, and the worst of it will be over. Tomorrow, if a pass is ahead, we’ll make up for lost time.”

  “Damn those wagons!” she hissed again. “Three men, four horses, one wagon, and one sleigh, gone. Damn . . . damn . . . damn! Are the last two ready to go?”

  “Yes. We’ve added more ropes and more men to hold them.”

  The extra hands and ropes proved effective. The last of the wagons went safely down the mountain.

  The Kat announced that they would make camp for the night at the base of the mountain. Every man was hungry and tired from the grueling day. As quickly as possible, the fires were made and the food was prepared. The men ate, the horses were bedded down, and soon the camp fell silent. Neither Banyen nor Katerina was in the mood for conversation. They were spent, their only thought of rest.

  The next week was a repetition of small ridges and long passes. Up one mountain and down another.

  Katerina was relieved when they finally approached the pass that led out of the Urals. Quietly she checked with the cook on their food supply, and found they could spare some extra for each man. A small reward, she thought happily.

  That night they camped at the mouth of the pass. “Men, listen to me. You see the snow is with us every day, and it will get worse. We’ve been through hard times, and we still have a hazardous journey ahead. If the drivers of each wagon can keep the horses at a lively pace, I promise all fifty kopecks.”

  Wide grins and shouts of approval went up over the camp. Katerina smirked to herself. Men would do anything for money. The following morning would be their true test: the crossing of the Kama River.

  The Kat watched through half-closed eyes as she got to her feet and took her place at the end of the line to await her dinner portion. The meal over, the fires roaring brightly in their efforts to reach the sky, she sat back and closed her eyes. She was jarred from her light sleep by a shout from the cook, who volunteered to play a tune for the men on his balalaika. She listened while he played and sang songs of the Russian people and their land. Tears burned her eyes at the haunting, beautiful words. When the cook finished his tune, he played another. This time he sang of the flowers and the sweet song of the nightingale. He stopped playing for a moment, reached out his hand to draw Katerina to her feet, and motioned her to act out the scenes as he played. Caught up in the moment, she agreed, and began to move her hands gently to the music as she had done before, as a child.

  Banyen and the others watched, enthralled by her slow, rhythmic movements to the sound of the balalaika. She smiled, her small teeth pearl-white in the orange glow from the fire, her movements sure and relaxed. Banyen stared, never having seen her like this before. Suddenly he wanted to reach out and clasp her to him, to take her slender, swaying body in his arms. He wanted to feel the warmth of her beneath him while he released his aching loins into her. The welt on his cheek began to throb as he watched the men leering at her. He was sure they were all thinking the same thing, just as he knew he needed to take another breath to live. He hated it. The wound ached again, making his cheek twitch as he placed his index finger over it, trying to stop the pain. What was bothering him? Jealousy? He had never been jealous of a woman in his life. His dark eyes scanned the men around
the campfire, and he knew he had to do something before . . .

  Banyen stood up. “The hour grows late. The men need their sleep,” he said curtly.

  A loud groan of dismay circled the fire. It was the Kat who seconded Banyen’s words and gathered up her bedroll. “The prince is right. The cook will play for us another tune, and then we’ll all dance. Tomorrow you’ll thank Prince Banyen for his foresight.” She unrolled her blanket, spread it by the fire, and lay down. The only sound heard throughout the camp was the crackling of the fires.

  Banyen lay awake long after everyone else was asleep, his mind refusing to let him rest. The vision of Katerina dancing left him only with the thought of conquering her so that his body would be appeased. He wanted to reach out, here and now, and take her. Blood coursed through him, keeping alive the fire in his loins. Wondering about the taste of her lips, he thought of the ways he would make love to her. He imagined how she would feel in his arms, the softness of her body and the firmness of her breasts against his chest. Rolling over onto his belly, he willed the ache to subside. The men looked asleep, but he wondered if they too tossed with an ache in their groin. Frustration gave way to exhaustion, and he slept.

  As dawn broke through the darkness, the camp stirred. The men got up and ate. Some were already at work. Katerina and Banyen discussed the best way to cross the Kama River.

  “I know the Kama is treacherous and deep but I think crossing over the ice would be the quickest and easiest way to get to the other side. I’ll test the ice by walking on it, and if it holds me I’ll go out on my horse,” Katerina said.

  “I disagree with you. I think we should find a shallow area,” urged Banyen.

  Katerina ignored his words as she tested the ice around the banks, satisfied with its thickness. Cautiously she edged out onto the ice-covered river. She walked a third of the way without hearing or seeing a crack. On her return she trod briskly, stopping now and then to jump up and down, testing the ice. At the bank of the river a soldier waited with her horse. Once again she ventured across the ice, this time a little farther. Satisfied, she turned the horse around and headed back.