“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.
Even though Halya’s green eyes were fearful, her tone was tight and confident. “I know he will recover. I pray constantly that it is not his time to join his Maker. Surely God will answer my prayers. Good-bye, Prince Banyen. I wish you a safe journey back to your camp. One day our paths may cross again.”
Banyen nodded farewell and strode from the room.
Outside, in the damp, cold corridor, he hesitated a moment. Should he try to see Katerina one more time? His heart thundered in his chest. What did she want from him? To crawl on his knees, to beg her to believe him? Why was it that you could lie to a woman and she would believe you, but if you told her the truth it was suspect? It made no sense. Real men didn’t beg; men didn’t grovel. He had spoken the truth to her. He had pleaded with her to open the door so that he could explain that she didn’t see what she thought she saw. Women! Rage whipped through him at the injustice of his position as he stomped from the corridor to take his place with his followers.
Busy with the wagons and his men, he didn’t see the stallions at first. When he looked to the end of the small caravan, he almost lost his footing. Holy Mother of God, she meant what she said! The four stallions were harnessed together and standing docilely, waiting for the order to move. Panic gripped him, a feeling he had never experienced before. Even in the face of death he had never wea
kened. If he wanted to he could step out and touch the horses and . . . The scar on his cheek began to ache as he walked over to the waiting animals. A month ago he would have asked no questions; he would have taken the animals and been ecstatic. Now he hated them for their sleek beauty, and he hated the fact that they stood in front of him, waiting for him to take them wherever he wanted to go. There was no question in his mind as he loosened the harness and led the animals back into the fortress. They weren’t his. They didn’t belong to anyone except Katerina, the beautiful woman with the amazing eyes. The stallions could never be his. They could never belong to anyone but her.
Mikhailo’s mouth dropped open when Banyen led the snorting Cosars to the oak doors.
“Tell Katerina that I have no need for so priceless a gift. These stallions belong to her for now, forever more, just as I thought she belonged to me. Tell her that for me, will you, Mikhailo?”
“I’ll tell her, but she won’t listen. I tried to talk with her this morning, and while she heard my words, they made no impression. She’s like a wounded animal—not responsible for her actions. A person does what he has to do to survive or he dies. It is as simple as that,” the old Cossack said quietly.
Banyen touched the old man’s shoulder and then abruptly moved away. He mounted his horse and spurred it forward. He didn’t look back as he led his soldiers from the House of the Kat. Banyen was going home to the Khan, the only home he had ever truly known. Returning without the breeding secrets of the Cosars, and leaving behind four white stallions and the only love he had ever known.
From her window Katerina watched as Banyen led the stallions out of sight. She frowned and tried to see what was going on below. She saw him return to his horse and ride away. He didn’t look back, but rode straight ahead. She blinked her eyes to clear her vision. Whitefire and the others weren’t with the caravan. He wasn’t taking them! What did it mean? A clever trick, that’s what it meant, she told herself.
For five days Katerina remained in her room, almost hoping as each hour dragged by that Banyen would return. At the end of the fifth day she emerged from her room, her face gaunt, dark smudges ringing her vacant doe eyes. She made her way to the kitchen and stood impatiently waiting for the princess or Mikhailo to notice her. It was Halya who walked over to her and tried to take her in her arms. Katerina brought up her arm and swung out, striking her full across the face. “Send the falcon to Kusma,” she directed Mikhailo. “Saddle a horse for her, she leaves within the hour. Have one of the men take her as far as Volin, and from there Kusma can see to her well-being, whatever it is.”
Tears welled in Halya’s eyes. “You can’t send me away. Kostya has not recovered. Mikhailo says that by morning he thinks his fever will break. I want him to see me when he awakes. Please,” she pleaded, “you can’t be so cruel.”
“Think again,” Katerina snarled. “Within the hour, Mikhailo. If you have to, tie her to the horse.”
Halya’s eyes were bitter. “You’re wrong. I’m ashamed to call you a woman. You act like a thoughtless child. There was nothing between your prince and myself. He comforted me. He belongs to you, no one could ever take him from you. Are you so foolish that you didn’t know that? If you truly loved him, there would have been no doubt in your mind. Yes, you have the right to send me from this fortress. And, yes, I’ll go. I have no other choice. But you can never separate me from Kostya. I love him and he loves me. I’ve seen cruel, heartless men, many of them, but never have I seen one as cold and as unforgiving as you, and that’s what makes you a disgrace to all women. It’s no wonder men have a low opinion of women.”
Katerina reached up and gave her a second resounding slap on the side of her head.
Halya took the blow full force, her head reeling. “He’ll never come back here for you. Is this how you acted with my brother, my brother that you killed? He’s well rid of you even if he had to die to do it. If it will pleasure you, strike me again, it doesn’t matter. I’ll leave, and I wish you misery for every hour, every minute that you breathe for the rest of your life.”
Katerina hated her, hated the words that spewed from her mouth. Her own lips trembled at what she was hearing and at the look on the princess’s face. Was it possible that she spoke the truth? No, Mikhailo was right, the slant-eyed Mongol was a son of a bitch.
“Save your breath and do not concern yourself with my well-being. If I live, I live; if I die, I die. It is no concern of yours. I allowed you in my house and I confided in you and you betrayed me.”
“You betrayed yourself,” Halya said softly. “You played a game and lost. Now you have nothing. Live with that for the rest of your life,” Halya said bitterly as she gathered up her silver-fox cloak. “I’ll fetch my belongings and be gone from your sight.”
Katerina’s eyes shot sparks as Mikhailo watched her, speechless at her tirade. She defied him to say a word, anything to chastise her. The old man resumed bathing Kostya’s flushed face, his heart heavy in his chest.
“I thought I told you to loose the falcon!”
Mikhailo didn’t bother to look up. “I have a sick man that needs my attention. I want no deaths on my conscience. Since you’re as perfect as Almighty God, do it yourself.”
“And just exactly what is that supposed to mean?”
“It means whatever you want it to mean,” Mikhailo said, just as harshly. “Leave me, I can’t bear to look upon your face. I never thought I would live to see the day that I would hate the sight of your beautiful face, but that day has come. Go, send your falcon to Kusma.”
Katerina was stunned at the old man’s words. How could he talk to her thus? Who did he think he was? He had never spoken to her before with anything except kindness and understanding.
“You were the one who said no Mongol was to be trusted. Tell me now you didn’t say that.”
“Yes, I said that, and at the time I meant it. Foolish words from a foolish old man. Your prince is not like that, nor are his soldiers. They’re all men to be proud of, and I am truly sorry I ever uttered those words. The princess’s words were just words also. You hurt her and she retaliated in the only way she knew how. You yourself are guilty of the same thing. You’ve just left girlhood behind and become a woman, a difficult transition.”
He looks rather like a fat, precocious squirrel, Katerina thought as she saw him tilt his head to the side as if his own speech surprised him.
“You still don’t know what you’ve done, do you?”
Katerina frowned, not sure she knew of what he was speaking.
“You are guilty of the very thing your father was guilty of. How does it feel, my dear? You assumed, you judged, and you found the prince guilty just as Katlof found you guilty. Now tell me, how will you live with that? Your father is dead and you’re alive.”
“Oh my God, you’re right!” she exclaimed, a stunned look on her face. “Banyen!”
“He tried to explain to you that you were mistaken, and you wouldn’t listen. You didn’t even give him the chance to defend himself. Your father at least gave you that chance before the council. True, they found you guilty, but you had your say. Which is more than you allowed Banyen. He loved you. I don’t know what he feels for you now. Possibly disgust, probably hatred. You ridiculed him, denied him the chance to defend himself. It would be a rare man who could still care after all of that.”
“He never loved me, all he wanted was the horses,” Katerina spat, stunned at the Cossack’s words.
“Then why didn’t he take the stallions with him? He told me to give you a message.”
A spark lit up Katerina’s large eyes as she waited for his words.
“He said the stallions belonged to you for now, for forever more, just as he thought you belonged to him.”
“He said that?” Katerina whispered. “If you’re lying to me, Mikhailo, I’ll cut your tongue from your throat.”
“I’ll say no more. You must be the one to decide what is true and what is false. And,” he said snidely, “you
still have the falcon to turn loose. Or have you changed your mind?” Where am I finding all these words? he wondered as he again dipped the cloth into the pan of water to sponge Kostya’s feverish face.
“Did Banyen really say that?” she asked huskily. “Tell me, Mikhailo,” she pleaded with moist eyes.
“Where would an old man like myself hear such fancy words? Only men in love say things like that. I never heard such words before he uttered them,” he snapped, a crafty look on his face.
“You can be a sly fox when you want to be.” Katerina grinned. “I’ll apologize to the princess and send her down the mountain. It’s time for her to leave anyway. Kostya will recover.”
Halya strode into the kitchen, her belongings tied up in a canvas sack. “There’s no need for you to apologize to me. I understand, for I love Kostya the way you love the prince. One day you’ll make amends, I know you will. When Kostya recovers, tell him that I’ll be waiting for him in Moldavia. I could never hold bitterness for you in my heart, for if it wasn’t for you, I would never have found Kostya.”
Katerina floundered for words. “I’m sorry that I lashed out at you. I have never, in all my life, felt so hurt. I had to hurt something, and unfortunately it was you that I hurt. Forgive me.”
“It’s not my forgiveness you need, it’s Banyen’s.”
“Yes, I know. One day perhaps he’ll forgive me, if I can find him,” Katerina said sadly, “and if it isn’t too late.”
“It’s never too late,” Halya said, clasping Katerina to her breast. “Remember that. Take care of Kostya for me, will you? I wish you well, and I wish you success in finding your Cosars. Just send Kostya to me when it’s over. Promise me that and I can leave here with a light heart.”
“You have my vow. Come, I must release the falcon and see that you have an escort down the mountain.”
Mikhailo smiled to himself as he rocked back on his heels. Love! Women! Foolish men with their fancy words! Bah!
True to Mikhailo’s word, Kostya’s fever abated by dawn of the following morning. He was weak and shaky, but managed a few spoonfuls of broth from time to time. He apologized for his illness, saying he knew it delayed her descent down the mountain.
Whitefire Page 32
