“None is better than Niko. Don’t worry, we will capture her before morning.”
“I don’t want to catch her. I want to follow her.”
“And gather everything up in one scoop.” Gregor nodded. “There are moments when you are not entirely stupid, Jordan. Of course, that could be due to my superior training.” When Jordan did not smile, he added quietly, “Do not be too angry with her. She used what weapons she had.”
“She used my pity and softness to make a fool of me. She deceived me. You’re damn right I’m angry.” He turned and strode toward the horses. “We’ll leave within the hour.”
I’ve come to bid you good-bye,” Gregor said as he entered Ana’s tent. “I’ve given instructions that you’re to be taken back to Rengar.”
“Toted in a wagon like a sack of flour,” Ana said, making a face. “What indignity for a ravin. Where is Alex?”
“Running about the camp, fetching and carrying for Niko and the others. He is worried about Marianna, and Jordan wished to keep him occupied. It will be your duty to comfort him after we leave.”
“I hear and obey.” She smiled bitterly. “It should be no task at all. According to Jordan, I need only beckon, and everyone falls beneath my spell.”
“There is some truth to that.” He fell to his knees beside her. “But it surprises me that he expressed it.”
“He was upset about the belka.” She paused. “He cares for her. It is not only lust.”
“Yes, but he may never admit it. He is very angry with her now.”
“Because she deceived and left him. It must seem that all the women in his life betray him. She should hate me. Poor girl, neither Jordan nor I make life easy for those we love.” She reached out and touched his hand. “He thinks I’m some sort of evil Circe. I’m not, am I?”
He chuckled. “If you were, I’d be your first victim. Do I look like a swine?”
“You look beautiful.” She reached up and traced the ugly scar on his face. “You always look beautiful to me.”
He captured her hand and brought it to his lips. “I know.”
“How vain you are.”
“You see beauty because you see love.”
A shadow crossed her face. “Jordan said you were chained to my chariot wheels.”
“Do you have a chariot? I thought they were outdated.”
“I’m serious. Have I been selfish?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “But it’s a selfishness I would never do without.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss on her forehead. “I must go. I want to see you well by the time I return to Rengar. Do you understand?”
“I will be.” She clutched his hand more tightly. “Why?”
He raised his brows inquiringly.
“Why do you give me so much but not all?”
“You do not know?” A loving smile lit his face. “I’m surprised you have not guessed.”
“Tell me.”
“Because I am selfish too.”
“You are not selfish. You give to everyone.”
“Because it pleases me. Is that not a form of selfishness? I have loved you all my life, but I don’t want bits and pieces of you. When I was younger, I used to think it might be enough, but gradually I came to the realization that I am not a man who could bear a half-filled cup.”
“I am not a half-filled cup,” she said tartly.
“It could be the description is inadequate. Perhaps the problem is that you have always brimmed over the edge. At first you would not look at me because I was not comely and charming as you found Jordan’s father. I had always been there like an old sheepdog trailing at your heels.”
She tried to laugh. “Better a sheepdog than a swine, I suppose.” She swallowed. “Jordan is right. I’m not a good person. I did hurt you.”
“Not with intention.” He lifted her hand to his lips again. “And then you did finally look at me, but you were still preoccupied with fighting the demons you had created for yourself. You had to prove you had worth, you had to see Kazan safe and prosperous, you had to lure your son back to you.”
“You helped me try to do all those things.”
“Yes, I helped you, but I won’t cheat myself by accepting a minor place in your life.”
“You were never minor. How can I convince you? Dear God, what do you want of me?”
“I want it all. Nothing else will satisfy me,” Gregor said simply. “And someday, when you give up your guilt and come to terms with yourself, you will be able to give it.” He rose to his feet. “It is time I left. I will send Alex to you.”
“Take care,” she whispered.
“Of course. What talisman do you think has kept me alive all these years? Selfishness made me the most cautious of men.” He smiled teasingly as he repeated softly, “I want it all.”
Niko came riding back to the troop. “She is heading north, over the mountains.”
Jordan’s gaze went to the mountains. Russia.
“Moscow?” Gregor murmured.
“Not necessarily. The Zavkov might be hidden somewhere close to the border.”
“What if her destination is Moscow? It’s a long, hard trip for a woman alone.”
“She’s not a fool. I’m sure she took food.”
Gregor raised his brows skeptically. “Enough to last her through a trek like that?”
“She can care for herself. When she was little more than a child, she traveled by foot halfway across Montavia.”
“This is different. There are few towns and villages between here and Moscow. She cannot hunt. How will she—”
“She may not be going to Moscow.” He nudged his horse into a gallop, leaving Gregor and his apprehensions behind.
She had used pity to disarm and blind him. He would not permit her to do it again.
CHAPTER 15
It is going to be Moscow.” Gregor’s breath puffed in the frigid air as he added, “I do not understand it. How does she know the way? Niko said she is traveling as if she were following a map.”
“That’s not surprising,” Jordan said. “Her mother made her memorize the Jedalar. I’m sure she would have given her exact directions as to how to reach the other half of the puzzle.”
“It is very cold.” He cast Jordan a sly glance. “But we have seen no sign of wolves. That is good. They get very hungry during the winter.”
“Be quiet, Gregor.”
“I am only trying to protect the Jedalar.”
“I know exactly what you’re doing.”
“Wolves have sharp teeth and strong jaws that can destroy flesh and bone with one crunch. Just think what they could do with our precious glass panel. Perhaps you should send Niko ahead to keep her in sight.”
“I don’t want her to know we’re following her.”
“It is worth the risk. She is probably concentrating too much on an empty belly and keeping alive to look behind her.”
Jordan muttered a curse.
Wolves have sharp teeth.…
They had seen no wolves, dammit.
… and strong jaws that can destroy—
“Niko, go ahead,” he snapped. “Keep her in view, but don’t let yourself be seen.”
She has run out of food,” Niko said. “There was enough grass for the horse to graze today, but she made nothing to eat for herself when she camped last night.”
“She will probably come to a village soon.” Gregor bit into the tender piece of roasted rabbit. “And she has plenty of flesh on her bones. A few days without eating will not hurt her.” He pulled off a piece of meat from the spit and extended it to Jordan. “Have some more. There is plenty. The hunting was good today, and we still have six fine rabbits for tomorrow. There’s nothing like a full belly to make you sleep well.”
The bastard expected him to refuse. He took the piece of meat and ate it. Then he took another piece and ate that too.
“She is hungry.” Niko’s tone was laden with reproach.
“What do you expect me to do?” Jordan asked
in frustration. “Go and deliver her supper to her so that she’ll know she’s being followed? We’re too close, dammit. She should be in Moscow in another week.”
“Yes, let her eat then. It is good for a woman to suffer,” Gregor said. “It humbles them and makes them aware of the sins they commit against us poor men. Is that not right, Jordan?”
Jordan gazed directly at Gregor and said with precision, “Quite right.” He got to his feet and stalked away from the campfire. He was sick of both of them and sick unto death of this long journey. He wanted it over.
If he wanted it over, what must she feel like? She believed herself alone in this wilderness. He knew loneliness. It was worse than hunger or fear.
Hunger.
With a low curse he turned, stalked back toward the fire, picked up one of the rabbits, and headed for the trees where the horses were tethered.
“Niko says she is camped by the river about four miles from here,” Gregor called after him.
Jordan reined in his horse in the woods a good distance from Marianna’s campfire. What the devil was he doing here? he wondered in exasperation as he slipped from his saddle and tied his horse to a tree. He grabbed the rabbit he had slung over his saddle and started through the forest. He had no idea how he was going to get this blasted animal to her without revealing his presence. Dead rabbits didn’t fall from the sky and into a cooking pot. He should have let her—
She was gone.
He stopped at the edge of the trees several yards from the brightly burning campfire. Her sheepskin pallet was spread before the blazing logs, but Marianna was nowhere in sight.
Alarm jolted through him. Where the devil was she?
Then he saw her.
She was standing barefoot in the shallows of the river, a spear carved from a gnarled tree branch in her right hand. Her gown was hiked and tucked into her waistband, and she reminded him vaguely of the Diana in the tapestry in the hunting lodge. She raised the spear, peering down at the moonlight-burnished water.
A glimmer appeared on the surface.
She struck!
And missed.
She waited patiently as minutes passed.
A shimmering movement to her right and she whirled, bringing the spear down with the same quickness as the trout she was stalking.
She missed again.
She waited again.
On the third attempt she was victorious.
He heard her cry of triumph as she held the fish high and waded back to the shore.
He faded into the shadows as she neared the campfire. In the flare of light she no longer looked the triumphant huntress. Her face was thinner than in their first meeting in Talenka and pinched with cold. She was shivering, her bare legs tinged blue from standing in the icy water. Lord, how long had she been in that river before he had arrived?
He took an impulsive step forward. He wanted to wrap her in warmth and safety, take away the cold and the hunger.
He stopped when she began tending to her own needs. She wrapped herself with a sheepskin blanket and sat down, rocking back and forth before the fire.
She continued in that manner for a long time before she was warm enough to turn and pick up the trout. It was a good-sized fish. She would eat tonight and perhaps tomorrow.
Jordan strode back to his horse. She had not needed him. She had adapted to the situation and provided for herself. She was as strong in her own way as his mother was in hers.
He mounted his horse and headed back to his own camp. It had been a long, cold journey for nothing. He should be annoyed and frustrated.
He should not be filled with this damned pride in her.
Jordan …
Marianna drowsily opened her eyes in the middle of the night with a strange sense of peace and contentment. Why had she been concerned? Everything would be fine. He would forgive her for what she had to do. This conflict between them was not of any real importance.
A sharp gust of wind ruffled the surface of the river and caused the fire to flare higher. She shivered as she came fully awake. She drew her blanket tighter around herself as a desolation swept through her that was colder than the wind.
A dream. She must have been dreaming.
Jordan would never forgive her, and she would never ask it. Their paths had parted and would never again be intertwined. She must become accustomed to that truth and arm herself against these agonizing moments.
But how did you arm yourself against a dream?
The fish is gone,” Niko said to Jordan. “And she has had to leave the river and go farther inland.”
He looked hopefully at Jordan.
Jordan said nothing.
“I have been thinking,” Niko said. “Mikel brought down several fat pheasants yesterday. I could go ahead of her and leave one of them on the trail for her to find.”
Jordan shook his head.
Niko frowned. “It would do no harm. She would still not know we are following her.”
“It would do harm.”
Niko uttered a low exclamation as he whirled his horse and sent it flying down the trail.
“Why would it do harm?” Gregor was studying Jordan’s face.
“Perhaps I want her to suffer.”
Gregor shook his head. “It is not vengeance. You would have helped her three nights ago.”
Jordan was silent a moment and then said, “She must do it on her own.”
“Why?”
“For God’s sake, we’re going to take away the fruits of her victory,” Jordan burst out. “I’ll be damned if I steal away the victory itself. Not one woman in a thousand could make this journey without help. She deserves to know she did it all herself.”
Gregor nodded understandingly. “Interesting. You are no longer angry with her?”
“Oh yes, I’m angry. I want to throttle her. That has nothing to do with this.”
“Interesting,” Gregor said again.
She has snared a rabbit.” Niko’s voice had as much pride as if Marianna had magically produced the animal from thin air. “It took her all day, but she did it.”
“That is good.” Gregor beamed.
Murmurs of approval came from the troop, and several gave smiles of relief. One young man made a face and exchanged money with another.
Gregor turned to Jordan and said, “I hope you are capable of subduing our dove yourself. I am not certain you will receive help from Niko or any of the others.”
Jordan knew what he meant. Over these weeks on the trail the troop had watched and gradually become caught up in Marianna’s struggle for survival. With every small victory she had won more of their respect.
The belka was no longer an outsider.
“And what about you?” Jordan asked Gregor.
“Kazan must be safe. I will do what must be done,” Gregor said. “Will you?”
“Yes.”
“You are sure? We are only two days’ journey from Moscow. The time to act is coming.”
And by God he would welcome it. His nerves were stretched to the breaking point with standing by and watching Marianna struggle against odds she was not prepared to meet. The conflict between them would resume, but at least this blasted journey would be over. “Don’t worry. When we reach Moscow, I’ll be ready to do what’s necessary.”
• • •
She did not go to Moscow. The next day she turned south and then rode west.
Niko came riding back to the troop just after noon. “She has stopped.”
“She’s made camp?”
Niko shook his head. “I think she has reached her destination.”
Jordan’s hands tightened on the reins. “Where?”
“Three miles from here. There is a village and, on the hill, a grand palace. She tied her horse outside the palace and went inside.”
“Did anyone come out to greet her?”
Niko shook his head. “The palace is deserted. It looks as if no one has been there for years.”
“Then I believe we can
assume she has reached her destination.” Gregor glanced at Jordan. “Do we go after her at once?”
Jordan nudged his horse forward. “You’re damned right we do.”
She was here!
Relief poured through Marianna as she set down the cloth-wrapped Jedalar and leaned it against a wall of the foyer. Heaven knows, there had been times when she had thought she would not make it.
The palace was everything her grandmother had told her it would be.
She looked up at the curving green-and-white marble grand staircase to the long windows of the landing. A huge crystal chandelier wept glittering tears above her.
Emptiness.
Coldness.
It was as if the inhabitants of the palace had just walked out. The door had been unlocked, and no protective cloths covered the rich tables and chairs. Dust was everywhere.
She stiffened. An unlocked door?
Nebrov?
Fear rushed through her until she remembered that the doors at Cambaron had never been locked. No one dared to steal from the rich and powerful. If Nebrov had beaten her here, she would be facing him now.
She closed the door, and the sound echoed hollowly off the high ceilings. Nebrov was not here now, but who could say how much time she had? If she did not set to work at once, she would have to wait until tomorrow. The insertion must be done while the sun was still high.
Her brow wrinkled as she strove to recall the detailed instructions Mama had given her. The hall to the left should lead to the chapel. She picked up the Jedalar and moved quickly down the hall.
Jordan reined in his horse at the bottom of the hill. The bold rays of the midafternoon sun lit the palace, which shone with a rainbow of colors. It was truly an ice castle; snow and ice covered half of the gray marble structure that appeared more Greek than Russian with its classic pillars and graceful, low-roofed wings. Long icicles hung from eaves. Ice formed a mirrorlike surface on the stones of the courtyard and on the four steps leading to the front entrance. Even the bank of stained-glass windows that stretched across the front of the palace were frosted, each one glowing like an individual flame captured in crystal.
Marianna’s horse was tied to an ornamental post in the courtyard.