Lost Love Found (38 page)

“I want to get there,” she answered him. “This weather may not change by nightfall, and I do not relish sleeping in the rain.”

Murrough nodded and spurred back to join Ali Pasha.

“Ever practical,” said Padraic. “Not that I don’t agree!”

She laughed. “What a tale we’ll have to tell the queen, Padraic! I wonder how she is.”

“Do you miss the court?” he asked.

“Nay, I miss the queen,” she replied. “The court is a sad place.”

“It won’t be when James Stewart inherits it,” he noted.

“Perhaps not, but ’twill all be strangers then, Padraic, Those who come after the queen is gone will be a different sort. ’Twill not be like the old days.”

“Hinny love, what do you know of the old days? We have not been a part of that Golden Age,” he told her.

“I know, but our families have. Growing up hearing all those tales, it seemed as if we were a part of it all. Even you as a child served as a page in the Earl and Countess of Lincoln’s household during the time the earl was high in favor with the queen.”

“Yet, like my brothers, I did not care for the life,” he admitted. “I am not a man of politics. I have no patience with those who dissemble the truth or seek great power. Perhaps I have simply seen too much of that in my life.”

They grew silent as they rode on, heads huddled within the hoods of their capes, seeking respite from the driving wet wind. When hunger assailed them, they chewed on the leftover pita bread in their pouches.

Near sunset—although they could not see the sun—they spied ahead of them three structures. Murrough signaled Valentina to come forward and ride with Ali Pasha.

“The Tatars,” said the captan, “bring their herds of sheep and goats to the steppes each year to graze them, but as the pastureland is limited they do not gather all together in one place. Rather, one or two families camp together. Several miles away, another small group will be found. This will be the case until we come to the best grazing area in this region, where the Great Khan and his immediate family will be camped. Even they will have to move one or more times during the season, and each move generally means the loss of some livestock.”

“Then we are not far from our destination, Ali Pasha?”

“Another ten to twelve miles, my lady, a few hours at the most. If I may say so, my lady, you are a brave and strong woman.”

“Thank you, Ali Pasha,” Valentina replied.

“My lady?”

“Yes, captain?”

“Do all women of your race and tribe ride horses?”

“No, Ali Pasha. But some do.”

“Such strong women must make strong sons,” he considered. “I do not think I should like it if your country and mine warred against each another!”

“Then let us thank Allah for seeing that there is peace between us, Ali Pasha.”

“I would be honored if you would ride with me the rest of our journey, my lady,” the captain said shyly.

“I am honored that you would ask me, a mere woman,” Valentina said with great tact and diplomacy.

“You are beginning to sound like a Turk,” he said, chuckling.

His words pleased her. Valentina had learned the Turkish language from Murrough during the entire voyage, and it had not been easy. In Istanbul she had been astounded to find that she could understand the gossip of the porters on the docks. Listening to the chatter on the streets as they traveled to and from the Kira house, she was delighted that she could comprehend most of what was being said. Murrough had proved to be a good teacher. They had spoken only Turkish since leaving
Archangel
, for they did not wish to draw attention to themselves by speaking English. Besides, the practice was important. Val told herself how fortunate she was that her family seemed to have a facility for learning languages. Padraic and Murrough had learned several languages because of their mother’s international business.

They reached the little group of buildings, and immediately a man came out to greet them. Seeing Ali Pasha, the Tatar broke into a smile.

“You pick a poor day to seek the khan, Ali Pasha. You and your men look as bedraggled as wet sparrows. Come in! Come in! There is hot tea and a good fire to warm yourselves by. My family and I would be honored to have you join us.”

“Thank you, Ibak, but as the rain has slowed us down we must continue onward in order to reach the Great Khan tonight. How far ahead is he?”

“Eight miles, captain, no farther.”

“Bid your family good day in our behalf, Ibak. We appreciate your offer of hospitality. Would that we might accept it!”

“May there be some nice girl willing to warm your back tonight, Ali Pasha!” the Tatar said with a chuckle.

They moved on, the rain heavier now, soaking through their woolen cloaks and weighing them down.

“Ibak must have moved his yurts since last week,” said the captain. “I am relieved we are closer to the khan than I had thought. We will all be lucky not to catch an ague from this weather.”

“What are yurts?” Valentina asked.

“Those buildings we just passed are yurts. They are tents of a sort, in which the people of the steppes live. They have a frame that includes a roof and crown of naturally shaped willow rods and green saplings. These frames are covered with layers of wool felt, which, in warm weather, is rolled up to allow air to circulate within the yurt. Inside the yurt the frame is covered with reed mats in the summer. Layers of felt are added in cool weather. The yurt can be assembled or disassembled in an hour or less. No Tatar maiden goes to her husband without bringing him a yurt. They are amazingly sturdy and never blow over in a storm. A good yurt frame can last forty years or more.”

“I noticed a wooden door,” Valentina said.

“Aye.” The captain chuckled. “Ibak is very proud of that door, for it shows he has come up in the world. A wooden door in a yurt is a very modern thing. Originally all yurt doors were felt. The Tatars use brown felt appliquè over white felt for their doors. Many still do, for there are those who value tradition more than modern ways.”

“What is the inside of a yurt like, Ali Pasha?”

“Very comfortable, my lady. Opposite the door on the far side of the yurt is the family altar. There is a hearth in the middle of the yurt that keeps it nicely warm. The men’s side, with all of their belongings, is on the left side; the women’s side, with all of their things, is on the right. There are places for visitors, children, servants, and a place of honor. We will be welcomed and well fed, I assure you.”

“I hope so!” Valentina said fervently. She couldn’t ever remember having been so cold and so wet. What had happened to spring?

The rain eased for a time, and they cantered forward, taking advantage of the respite. Finally they could see, directly ahead, an encampment of six or more yurts. The rain began to beat down heavily again.

“There are no guards to keep watch?” Valentina was surprised.

“The Tatars know we are coming, my lady. You simply cannot see their men. They, however, can see us” was the answer.

They galloped the last mile through the driving rain. Valentina was beginning to feel dreadful. Although she was shivering within her sodden cloak, she suddenly felt feverish. Following the captain’s lead, they made directly for the yurt of the Great Khan, which sat dead center within the camp. Even had it not been in the center, there would have been no mistaking it, for the yurt was easily thirty feet in diameter and had an elaborately paneled door, hinged, not in rope, as were the others, but in brass.

The door was flung open, and servants came out to take the steaming, sweating horses. Dismounting, Valentina felt her legs going out from beneath her, and she cried out in alarm. She was quickly lifted up by Ali Pasha and carried into the yurt. But once inside, the captain hesitated, for he did not know whether to place her on the women’s side of the yurt or on the men’s side.

Two people came forward. One was a tall man with light brown hair and hazel eyes. The other was a small, elegant woman with silver-gilt hair piled high on her head to give her height. Her bright blue eyes were interested as they quickly scanned the captain’s burden.

“Put him down here, Ali Pasha,” the man said. “Has he been injured? We hope you did not meet with Temur Khan.”

“No, my son. The captain will bring the lady to me,” said the sweet but firm voice.

“The lady, Mother?

“The lady, my son. Where are your eyes?” She laughed softly. “I am correct, am I not, Ali Pasha?”

“Aye, Borte Khatun, you are indeed correct,” the captain said, and he gently set Valentina on her feet, which seemed steadier once the soaking cloak had been removed.

Valentina removed the small turban and, drawing away several tortoiseshell hairpins, allowed her long braid to fall free.

“By Allah! It is a woman! What mischief is this, Ali Pasha? Why is this woman dressed as a man? Why have you brought her here? Who is she?”

“So many questions, Devlet.” Borte Khatun laughed. “Our visitors are cold and wet, my son. Can we not first offer them some refreshment and the warmth of our hearth? I feel certain that, whatever the lady’s reasons for being here, she does not constitute a threat to the Tatar nation.”

Borte Khatun turned to the captain again. “And who are these two gentlemen who are not Turks, Ali Pasha? They have not the look of Ottoman officials at all, but rather European travelers.”

“I will allow them to introduce themselves, Borte Khatun.” The captain looked at Murrough.

“I am Captain Murrough O’Flaherty, madam, a member of the O’Malley-Small trading company. I sailed from London several months ago. This is my younger brother, Lord Padraic Burke. The lady who accompanies us is Lady Valentina Barrows, our cousin. It is my cousin who has come to see you, madam, but why is her tale to tell, not mine.”

Borte Khatun nodded, understanding perfectly. “Then,” she said, “we will wait.”

A young lamb was killed and roasted for the visitors, and finally the inhabitants of the Great Khan’s yurt and the visitors settled down for the night, wrapped snugly in down and bedding and lying by the hearth.

Borte Khatun instructed her servants to carry the sleeping foreign woman to a private place and to remove Valentina’s garments. They sponged her with warm, scented water, placed a silk robe about her, and put her to bed. Not once during all the ministrations did Valentina awaken. Safe behind her curtained alcove, a small charcoal brazier burning to keep the space warm, she slept soundly despite the ferocity of the storm that had increased in intensity and howled about the yurt.

She awakened in the morning to find Padraic sitting by her side looking somewhat haggard. “Where are we?” she asked sleepily.

“In the yurt of the Great Khan, Val. How do you feel?”

“Ah, yes, I remember! I made a rather dramatic entrance into the camp of the Geray Tatars, didn’t I, Padraic?” Her eyes were twinkling now, and she emitted a throaty chuckle.

“Aye, you did, but how do you feel? I’m not supposed to be over here on the women’s side of the yurt, Val, and but for the kindness of Borte Khatun, I wouldn’t be.”

“I feel better, Padraic,” she told him. “I was just tired, wet, and so damned cold. The wetter I got, the more I thought of a hot bath.”

He smiled. “I was worried, Val.”

She reached out and patted his big hand. “I know,” she said, “but you need not have been. At least half of me is of good, sturdy English stock, my love.”

My love!
She had called him her love! Did she realize it? Had she meant it? Or had it been used casually? He did not dare ask, for he knew how much she hated being cornered.

“Padraic?”

He started. “Aye, hinny love?”

“When will Borte Khatun grant me an audience, do you suppose? Have you told her why I am here?”

“Murrough told her last night that it was your story to tell, Val. They are content to wait. Can you walk, hinny? There is hot tea, that wheaten cereal we’ve grown accustomed to, bread, and goat’s cheese by the hearth.”

“I am starving!” she cried, and rose to her feet. “What am I wearing? Who took my clothes?”

“Borte Khatun had her servants undress you last night. They even bathed you, but you were not awakened even by that,” he teased her. “You just snored on, Val!”

“I do not snore!” she protested.

He laughed. Taking her hand, he led her into the central portion of the yurt, where the others were already breakfasting. All eyes swung toward her and anxious questions were asked of her. She was able to reassure them that she was perfectly all right, having had a good night’s sleep. She admitted to being hungry. Quickly they filled a plate for her with chunks of leftover lamb, bread, and cheese, as well as a bowl of steaming cereal and a small honeycomb. Her hosts watched admiringly as Val consumed it all.

“A woman who enjoys her food without coyness is an honest woman,” the said Great Khan. “A woman who can travel from Kaffa in three days’ time and survive is a strong woman. I can always use another wife, and strong women breed strong sons.” Devlet Khan looked at his beautiful guest with frank admiration and undisguised interest. He hadn’t been able to tell it last night, but now, with her long dark hair flowing past her shoulders and her female curves obvious, he had to admit that she was one of the loveliest women he had ever seen.

As the Great Khan’s words penetrated her suddenly awake mind, Valentina choked on her hot tea.

“My cousin is already promised to my brother, my lord Khan,” Murrough said quickly. “They have not wed before now because they have been waiting out her term of mourning for her first husband. You honor us greatly with your offer, however.”

The Great Khan smiled, disappointed but nonetheless cordial. “Of course a beauty such as your cousin would already be promised. Still, it does not hurt to ask, does it?” He sighed.

“Has the rain stopped?” Valentina asked, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Between first light and dawn,” the Great Khan replied. “It is a fine day for hunting. Will you gentlemen join us?”

The brothers looked at Valentina. “Go,” she said. “I must have my talk with Borte Khatun.”

The Great Khan, Murrough, Padraic, and Ali Pasha scrambled to their feet. Collecting weapons from the weapons box, the men took up their cloaks and left the yurt. The servants cleared away all evidence of the morning meal, leaving the two women with their tea. Then they discreetly departed.