Whitefire

by Fern Michaels

  Ivan stood and stretched his scrawny neck till he could see all of the assembled boyars and nobles. “The princess was overcome with happiness,” he babbled. “Women are like that at times. All four of my wives acted the same way. Now we’ll share her special dinner,” he said, pointing to the wild game. “The servants will serve you as much as you want, and eat heartily,” he cackled, wagging a bony finger in the air. “I’ll leave you to your merrymaking. With me gone, you may do as you please. Enjoy yourselves. I’ll leave the bears for you to play with, so they won’t become lonely.”

  “God help me!” Halya screamed as she ran down one hall, and then another, till she came to her room and quickly threw the bolt. She grabbed the pillow sack, still filled with her jewels and clothing, which she had hidden away in a cupboard. This time, even if Ivan had already posted a guard at her door, she would escape. He had stopped her the last time, but this time he couldn’t. She was on a mission for him, had been told to leave. Nothing could stop her.

  With the help of a young guard she had befriended, she made her way to the stable. The soldier kept watch as Halya saddled a sorrel horse. Mounted, she thanked the man and disappeared into the night.

  Halya felt safe now that she rode freely, her security in the sack tied to the saddlebags. She had the next thing to a king’s ransom riding with her. Jewels could buy anything. Could they buy a life? She wondered.

  Halya rode steadily, stopping only to eat and to feed and rest her horse. She rode for many days before she arrived at a small village. She reined in her horse and wiped the snow from her forehead with the back of her hand. She knew she looked terrible. Carefully she smoothed the golden hair back from her brow and tucked in the stray tendrils, and then smoothed the gown beneath the lush cape she wore, trying to free it of the wrinkles that clung to it. More than that she couldn’t do. Perhaps the peasants would allow her a bowl of water to wash with. They might even have knowledge of Yuri.

  She knew instinctively that the men advancing on her were Don Cossacks, and just possibly they would help her. If not . . .

  Halya waited patiently atop the horse for the two men to approach her. She knew that if she made a move to dismount she would be pinned from behind and dragged God only knows where. The men stopped some distance from her and waited for her to speak. Halya leaned over and raised her hand to show that she was a friend.

  “I’m on my way to Volin in search of my brother, Yuri Zhuk. Could you tell me how much farther it is and if you have news of him? He traveled here in late spring to purchase horses and has not been seen since.”

  The Cossacks looked at Halya and her fine clothes and the sleek animal she rode. They exchanged blank looks and said nothing.

  “I mean you no harm. My parents are old and they want news of their only son. I myself come from a village no bigger than this, and I know that news travels from one village to the other. I want nothing more than information. Please help me,” she pleaded.

  The taller of the two Cossacks advanced another step and looked up at Halya. She was indeed a beautiful woman. What harm could talking with her do? he thought.

  “The village of which you speak is no more. Marauding Tereks killed the villagers and burned it to the ground. I’ve heard that the man you speak of rode from Volin with no horses, and the contract he desired canceled by the Kat. None from my village saw the man you speak of, but if he has not returned since late spring, then there is little hope. A lone man is not safe on foot when the Tereks take to the road. And you, my fine lady, should also be warned.”

  “Are you telling me that the man known as the Kat is dead?” Halya asked in a shocked voice.

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. The Kat and all his people. The only person to escape the slaughter was his daughter, who was not in the village at the time.”

  “Where can I find the Kat’s daughter? Perhaps she’ll know something of my brother if she lived in the village when he arrived to negotiate the sale of the horses.”

  The two men looked at each other again. The spokesman debated a moment before he spoke. “She’s in the mountains at the House of the Kat.” He held up a large, beefy, dirty hand and motioned for Halya to remain quiet. “In truth, I don’t know if she is there now or not, but it was the custom for the Kat to take his people and horses back to the mountains at the end of the summer. We haven’t seen her since she rode from here after the slaughter. There is nothing we can do to help you.”

  Halya shivered inside the silver-fox cape and wanted to cry. To have come so far only to find nothing . . . She bit into her full lower lip. She wasn’t beaten yet!

  “Tell me, how can I get to this House of the Kat you speak of? Is there a sleigh or a wagon I could buy to make the journey? It’s not for myself, you understand, it is for my old parents, who love their son.” Tears gathered in the sea-green eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She reached out a slim hand in entreaty and knew she made an appealing picture. Stronger men than these two had been captivated by her winsome ways; they would be no different.

  The younger of the two Cossacks spoke hastily. He, too, had a mother who fussed and fretted over him when no one was around. “We might be able to send a message and . . .”

  The first Cossack was also smitten by the sparkling tears. “Dismount and come with us. There is a way for us to let the people in the Carpathians know that someone wishes to travel to the mountains. It may take a couple days for a message to get back to us, but it is the best we can do for now. Snow will come shortly, look overhead,” he said, waving his arm upward.

  “Oh, thank you!” Halya said gratefully as she slid from her mount.

  “See to it, Basil,” the first Cossack said quietly. “I’ll take the lady into my hut and make her comfortable.”

  Halya blanched but followed him. She knew what was in store for her, but she also knew she had no other choice. She would do whatever was necessary to find news of her brother. She wondered if Ivan knew the Kat was dead. Did his death mean there were no more horses? Please let Yuri be alive, she prayed silently as the Cossack motioned her to sit at a worn bench. He generously poured her a steaming cup of tea and placed a chunk of dark bread in front of her. Halya smiled gratefully as she nibbled, and wondered how long it would be before he told her to remove her clothing.

  Basil trudged through the snow to the barns at the end of the village. There he opened the door to a small makeshift aviary and reached out for one of the falcons. His thick fingers were cold and numb, but he managed to scribble a message and attach it to the bird’s leg. With luck the bird would cover the distance by sundown. By noon tomorrow he would have an answer. He felt envy and lust rise in him for his friend Kusma’s good fortune. He wondered if his good friend would share her. A good Cossack did not keep his wealth to himself. Basil could only hope that Kusma would feel charitable toward him. It had been many long days since he had seen anyone as pleasing to the eye as this lady. He knew her skin would be like a flower petal, and her lips would cling to his as she whispered sweet words of love and passion. He groaned in desire as he removed the hood from the falcon’s head and set the bird free.

  All he could do now was wait for several hours, and then he would bravely stroll over to Kusma’s hut and demand that they share what should be shared. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  Mikhailo deftly placed the falcon on a perch and covered his head before he removed the capsule from its leg. Unable to read the scrawled words, he set out in search of Katerina.

  Banyen and Kostya both watched as she reached for the paper and scanned its contents. She frowned, her amber eyes turning the color of cinnamon as she stared at Mikhailo. Biting her lip nervously, she reread the message. She carefully folded the tiny piece of paper and stuffed it into the pocket of her trousers. With a puzzled look on her face, she left the arena and strode back to the kitchen. She poured herself tea from the samovar and marveled at the thick, syrupy consistency of the liquid. Hanna must have made it days ago, she told herse
lf.

  Katerina withdrew the note and scanned the contents again. What should she do? Should she allow the girl to come to the mountains; and if she did, who was to fetch her? If only Oles hadn’t died in the slaughter. She would have to send Mikhailo or Stepan, or go herself. She could ignore the message and forget about it. It would be best to send another message with the falcon denying the young woman permission to come to the mountains, saying there was no one to fetch her. What could she possibly want? Did it have something to do with the horses? Didn’t Yuri mention something about having a sister? It could be a lie, a trap of some sort. She would have to go herself.

  Quickly she negated the idea. Stepan would have to go; Mikhailo was needed here. She didn’t dare leave the men for the journey. Twice now she had sensed Banyen’s presence when she went to Whitefire’s stables. No matter where she went, no matter what she did, his eyes were always on her. Stepan would have to take two of the stallions, because none of the other horses would stand the trip. Only the stallions could maneuver in the deep snow, which they loved.

  What would happen if she did allow the woman to come to the mountains? Would it cause a problem with the men? She admitted that that, more than anything else, was what was bothering her. How would the others react to another woman? A woman who, as Yuri’s sister, would undoubtedly be beautiful and wear fine clothes. Envy ate at Katerina as she stared at the message. I could just send word saying Yuri is dead and let it go at that. It would be a cruel, hard blow to the woman, but then, why should I care? I don’t know her, and I owe her nothing. But if she really is Yuri’s sister, I owe her an explanation of his death. It was by my hand that he died. She deserves to know how and why. I, likewise, am seeking answers to my father’s death, her niggling inner voice urged. I won’t be satisfied till I have the answers I want. Perhaps the woman feels the same way.

  Katerina shuddered as she gulped at the bitter substance in her cup. She knew that if her father had lived he would have denied permission for the woman to come to the mountains. But he was dead, and it was her decision. Right or wrong, she would tell her the circumstances of Yuri’s death. Perhaps it would ease some of the guilt she carried within her. Yuri’s pleading eyes flashed before her, and she cringed. Would the woman understand and forgive her for what she had done?

  When Mikhailo and Stepan entered the kitchen, they found Katerina staring into her empty cup, the small piece of paper clutched in her hand. Katerina raised her eyes and nodded. “You will go, Stepan. You’ll ride Wildfire, and Darkfire will be saddled for the woman to ride on the return trip. Send the message and dress yourself warmly. Tell the Dons to take the woman as far as Volin and have her wait for you. Under no circumstances are you to go to their village. Volin, that is as far as you go, do you understand? If you sense a trap or a trick of some sort, send the horses back alone. I’ll come for you in the sleigh. You’ll need eyes in the back of your head, my good friend. I hope you can do it with no harm to yourself.”

  “What you mean is, can Wildfire do it?” interjected Mikhailo. “Of course he can, and Stepan can make the trip as well.”

  At the confidence expressed in him by his friends, Stepan gained a new aura of dignity. He had no doubts about himself either. After all, he had made a similar trip with Wildflower some months before.

  “What does she want? Why would anyone come here in the dead of winter?” asked Mikhailo.

  Katerina shrugged. “We’ll know as soon as Stepan returns with her and not a moment before,” she said quietly, her eyes sober and reflective. Although no one mentioned it, Katerina knew that Stepan could easily be caught in a blinding blizzard. She pushed the thought away. Stepan was an excellent horseman, with a superb, specially trained mount. Despite the rapidly approaching period of horrible storms, her childhood friend would be fine and would return with Yuri’s sister, though it would likely take much more time than usual.

  “Dress warmly, Stepan,” Katerina said with a fond pat on his arm. “I’ll get the horses ready and food ready. And remember, do not attempt the trek back to the mountains unless the weather permits.”

  Katerina made sure Banyen was occupied in the center of the arena when she went for the stallions. If he saw them on her return, it would be all right, but she didn’t want him following her and watching her press the secret catch. If he hasn’t seen me already, she thought grimly. Bastard, he had eyes in the back of his head.

  At the last minute Katerina negated the idea of saddles. Wildfire would make better time without the heavy leather on his back. Darkfire, on the other hand, needed the extra weight, and she chose a saddle with care, testing it before she placed it on his back. The stallion nuzzled her, and she laughed. “You know, don’t you. A trek through the snow and you’ll show us all who can survive out there in that vast white world, but remember, my friend, it’s Wildfire that you follow. On your return you shall carry a beautiful lady. I’m trusting you to give her a comfortable ride, and no playful tricks, do you hear?” she said, stroking the horse’s sleek flanks. It was Wildfire who gently pushed her away from Darkfire and waited patiently for the girl to respond to him. “You’re to take Stepan safely to Volin, and no antics in the snow. This is business, Wildfire, and we have no time for playing. You’ll ride like the wind and bring my guest safely to the House of the Kat and,” she gurgled, “don’t lose Stepan. He’s not used to your spirited ways. No saddle, just a blanket for you.” The stallion reared back and shook his great head at her words. Katerina knew he understood every word she said and would do as she instructed.

  Katerina led the stallions down the long stone passageway and out to the main stable, where she waited for Stepan. Banyen strolled nonchalantly up to her and ran a hand lovingly over Wildfire’s back. His voice was sincere when he spoke.

  “Never have I seen more magnificent animals. You have every right to be proud of them, and I can understand your obsession with getting your Cosars back.”

  Katerina stared at him, expecting his arrogant, mocking eyes to belie his words. Instead, she read only respect and open admiration in their depths.

  “I would give my life for these animals.”

  Banyen nodded. “I believe you would. I understand what you’re saying. Perhaps it won’t be necessary to give your life for them. You have others inside the arena who will do that for you.” The old scoffing look was back as he stroked Darkfire.

  “No one will give his life for me. Why do you think I’m training these men? Certainly not for myself. I have no wish to see any of them die. I see that you don’t believe what I’m saying. And I care even less what you think.”

  Mikhailo and Stepan watched their friend and the prince a moment before joining them. “Good, you didn’t give him a saddle. This animal,” Mikhailo said, assisting Stepan onto his horse, “detests anything save a human being on his back. We bow to his wishes.” He laughed into Banyen’s face.

  Banyen nodded curtly and walked away, his back stiff and straight.

  “Did you make a mistake, little one? Do you think it wise for the Mongol to know of the stallions?”

  “Mistake? Hardly, Mikhailo. I’m sure he knew they were stabled here before today. Those damnable slanted eyes of his see everything.” Smiling at Stepan, she said, “A safe journey to you, my friend,” then flung open the wide oak doors.

  Wildfire reared back and preened before Katerina, then thundered through the portal, Darkfire on his heels. Katerina laughed. They were like children, waiting for a romp in the snow.

  When the heavy doors closed against the snow and cold, Katerina walked slowly back to the arena in search of Banyen. A confrontation. She would ask him what he intended to do with his knowledge. Why skirt the problem? She would ask and he would lie, and she would tell him that he lied. Whatever happened, she would let him know she didn’t trust him.

  Taking her position in the arena, Katerina watched the men go through their drills and exercises. The longer they kept at the rigorous training, the more proficient they became. Af
star would have no complaints when Banyen returned in the spring with his band of soldiers. No complaints at all, she thought smugly. She waited patiently for the drill to be over before she sauntered over to where the prince stood and motioned him to follow her out of earshot of his men.

  “I want to settle something with you, clarify it for your ears,” she said shortly. “Now that you know the stallions are here, and I suspect you have known for some time, I want it understood that if you ever go near them or try to take them from here, I’ll kill you. No one takes what is mine. I told you once before, I give only one warning.”

  “Those stallions are your whole life, aren’t they,” Banyen said softly. “There are other things in life besides horses. When this is all—”

  “When this is all over, I’ll be the same. Yes, the Cosars are my life. It’s a life I chose, not a life that was forced upon me. If you think for one moment you could get the stallions from here, forget it. They would kill you if somehow you managed to get by me. They know where they belong.”

  “A horse is a horse,” Banyen said curtly.

  “Just as a man is a man,” Katerina snapped.

  “Let us not forget that a woman is a woman,” he retaliated.

  Katerina laughed, the shrill sound bouncing off the thick granite walls and raising the hackles on Banyen’s neck. “This woman says those horses will kill you if you try to take them from the stable. Once you didn’t heed my words. You would be wise to listen to me now, before you make elaborate plans to take them from this fortress.”

  “Why would I want to take your horses? You did promise the Khan that you would give him a colt and a filly. Are you telling me now that you are not a woman of your word?”

  Katerina flinched at his mocking words. How true they were. Bastard, she seethed. He knew she had no intention of giving Afstar anything.