Once a Princess (26 page)

Tanya had waited impatiently for Stefan to return to camp last night. He and Serge had supposedly only gone to the village up ahead to get news of the area they were nearing, and to arrange to have breakfast prepared and waiting for their large group when they passed through the village in the morning, as well as more food they could take with them for a noon meal.

Lazar had told her this part of the country was known for its hill bandits and other types of lawless individuals. Because it was so remote and almost primitive in nature, it was ignored by the countries surrounding it: Austria; the kingdom of Poland, or what was left of it, since Poland was now under Russia's control; and Russia herself.

Unfortunately, the northern route leading to Cardinia cut right through this area. But it could be traversed in only half a day. And Tanya was assured that heavily guarded travelers, such as they, were never bothered. Not that she was worried about it. She had also been told, almost from the beginning
of the overland trek, that the land's natural inhabitants were a danger, too, for bears, wildcats, and wolves roamed the forests and sometimes beyond. It had been stressed again and again that she was never to venture off alone for any reason whatsoever. But she hadn't given that much thought, either, with so much else on her mind.

When Stefan had finally returned to camp last night, she had tried to speak to him, but he had put her off, saying he was too tired. When she tried again in the morning before they broke camp, he said he was too busy, it would have to wait until that evening—when she would probably hear that he was too tired again? Like hell.

It was then that she remembered all the warnings about how dangerous it would be to leave the group. She also remembered how thoroughly upset Stefan had been that time she'd jumped into the Mississippi River, just because she had put herself at risk. She decided that if she couldn't get his attention by asking for it, she'd get it another way—by turning up missing.

Of course, she had no intention of putting herself in danger. She wouldn't have to go far from the coaches to be “missing,” certainly not beyond shouting distance. She just didn't have to answer when she was called. And she didn't have to show herself until Stefan was good and upset. Then that devil would damn well talk to her.

She also realized that what she intended might actually put Stefan's promise to the test, that he was likely to be livid with rage, just as before. But that
only added some exciting possibilities to the plan, which made her even more determined to do it. And she didn't wait until that evening. She'd just as soon not go off in the dark, anyway. She chose that very afternoon, when they stopped to partake of the cold fare from the village.

Tanya waited until everyone had almost finished eating, since there was no point in going off into the woods for longer than she had to. She even finished the meat wrapped in thick bread and butter that had been brought to her. But as soon as her maids started cleaning up in preparation to leave again, she slipped behind the coach, waited another minute to make sure no one had seen her, then dashed into the woods.

She wasn't sure what she was going to say in her defense when she let herself be “found.” She ought to just put the blame where it was due and tell Stefan the truth. No, that wasn't, after all, a good enough excuse to ignore all the warnings she had been given. Just because he was ignoring her? She could tell him that she'd wanted to be alone, to think, to decide if she was going to marry him or not, and then had fallen asleep. After all, she needed a reason to explain why she wasn't going to answer when she heard them calling for her. Being asleep solved that.

At any rate, she had a while to think about it, ten minutes probably, before they would be ready to continue on their way. Then she had a moment's unease when it occurred to her that they just might leave, thinking she was inside her coach already. But she laughed it off. They wouldn't be
that
careless. And someone usually rode with her.

But at that point, she decided she'd gone into the woods far enough. She looked about for some type of cover other than a fat tree trunk, though a trunk would do just as well for her purposes. Then she spotted what looked like a building just a little farther on and headed toward it. On closer inspection, she saw that at one time it had been a house or a farm, but was now in ruins, long abandoned. As shelter, it fell short of the mark, with most of the roof and one wall caved in, but as a place to “fall asleep,” it was perfect. Only Tanya hadn't counted on anyone else being there.

When she came around the building to get out of the wind, she saw the three ponies first, once wild by the look of them, then the three men leaning up against the wall of the ruins. She no sooner let out a gasp of surprise than the man closest to her was hauling her forward and out of sight of the way she had come.

“Now just a—”

A hand over her mouth cut off Tanya's protest. An arm around her waist lifted her off the ground and didn't let go. Her wrists were swiftly being tied together by another man, who also had a gag ready for her mouth. It had all happened too quickly, before she could think, before she could get at the knife strapped to her thigh.

“What if she isn't the one?”

“She is,” said one of the men with confidence. “You sent me close to watch them and I watched. She is the only lady in that party.”

“Then she wouldn't be out here alone. She
wouldn't be this far from the road at all.”

“Who cares what she's doing here when what she did is make it easy to earn the payment.”

“Then if you're sure, I say kill her here and be done with it.”

“You would say that, Pavel,” he was told with unmistakable disgust.

“Why bother taking—”

“Take a good look at her. I would keep her before I'd kill her. Besides, it's Latzko's decision, not ours. We don't even know if the payment is good yet, and I'm not killing anyone for nothing.”

“We'll be hunted,” Pavel pointed out.

“We'll be hunted either way.” The other man laughed. “But how does that make a difference when we're
always
hunted? And no one finds us unless we want them to.”

Tanya didn't know she'd been given a reprieve or that her life had even been in imminent danger, because they had been speaking some Slavic tongue that she couldn't begin to understand. But she did know that she would be going with them, because as soon as she was tightly bound—and it took less than a minute to accomplish that—she was tossed up onto one of the small ponies, with the shortest of the men getting on behind her—for the sake of the pony, she supposed.

She didn't know what to make of this abduction, except that she hoped these men weren't associated with whoever had tried to kill her in Danzig, and since they hadn't killed her outright, that hope was strong. But if they were hill bandits, why didn't they
just rob her and go? Why take her with them?

They looked no different from the people she had been seeing for the past few days in this part of the country, dark of hair and eyes, swarthy-skinned, except there was a marked difference in their individual heights. One was no taller than Tanya, one was a few inches above her, and one was actually quite tall. Their clothes were not quite the same as those she had seen in the area, looking more appropriate for riding: thick trousers, soft-skinned boots laced up the calves, short sheepskin jackets with the fur on the inside, worn over woolen shirts wrapped with wide cloth belts. They each wore brightly colored scarves knotted close to the neck and shaggy fur hats. If they carried any weapons, she didn't see them, but undoubtedly they did.

Stefan had been traveling in a gradual, southeasterly direction. These men rode directly south, straight for the Carpathian Mountains. And they rode as if the devil were on their tails. The only stop they made that evening was at some isolated farm, where they gave up their worn-out ponies for fresh ones. They avoided roads altogether, seeming to know every out-of-the-way path through forests and hills. And they didn't even stop to eat, chewing on stale bread crusts that each man carried.

They reached their destination sometime around noon of the next day, having ridden straight through the night. It looked like a typical village, except it was high in the mountains, reached by a path that Tanya was sure only those small ponies could navigate.

She was utterly exhausted by then, having gotten no more sleep than her captors. She was almost too tired to care what happened next, but she was definitely grateful for the warmth inside the house she was dragged into.

It was more like a log cabin, though with only one large room. Tanya moved straight to the clay-mounded oven in the center of it the moment she was let go. The first thing she noticed was how cluttered the room was, with crude furniture and the debris of a lifetime. The second thing she noted was the man sitting at a table eating; he didn't even look up at their intrusion. He was big, middle-aged, with the hardened features of someone who had not had an easy life.

A pouch was dropped before him, and a lengthy explanation was given by her captors that she didn't bother to try deciphering. Instead she looked at the many cots scattered about and wondered if anyone would mind if she made use of one. But she didn't want to leave the fire just yet. She had been chilled to the bone, despite the long gray cloak she was wearing. But then she wasn't used to winters like this, and it had become much colder the higher they had climbed into the mountains.

She finally noticed the silence and glanced toward the table to find only the older man there, the other three gone. He'd been watching her while he finished his meal. He didn't seem disposed to say anything, however.

Tanya decided to try her luck just the same. “I don't suppose you speak English either?”

“English,” he said in disgust. “I know four languages good, three not so good. My English is not so good.”

“Good enough,” Tanya said in relief. She knew a smattering of French and Spanish herself, but she doubted those two languages were included in his seven. “Will you tell me what I'm doing here?”

“You should not be.”

“Not be what?”

“Here. If my men knew the difference between rubies and pretty glass, then you would not be.” He picked up a necklace from the table and dangled it from a finger to show her.

“I don't understand.”

“This was given to kill you. It is not real, so you do not die.”

It was nice of him to clarify that before she had time to be horrified. “Do I understand you correctly? Someone paid your men to kill me, and that necklace was the payment?”

“That is what I said.”

“And since it's made of glass instead of real rubies, you won't kill me?”

“That is what I said.”

It was that cowardly assassin of hers, no doubt afraid to try again himself. But she asked anyway. “Can you tell me who?”

He shrugged. “We do not deal with names.”

She sighed. “Very well, what now?”

“My men waste much time getting you, ruin good animals getting here. Pavel, he thinks we should kill you anyway, for the trouble they were put to.” He
chuckled. “He hates all aristocrats after one beat hell out of him. Will your people pay to have you back?”

She shrugged. “Probably, though I wouldn't stake my life on it. Why don't you just ask whatever price you want and see if you get it?”

He grinned. “I like the way you think, lady.” He waved a hand to the pot sitting on top of the oven. “Eat, rest, it will not be long.”

“It won't?”

“Your people were not far behind,” he explained, “not far at all. Hope they carry a lot of gold, lady, or we may have to kill them all.”

He'd managed to horrify her after all.

Stefan rode slowly into Latzko's village, his men spread out behind him. He had come here once before, about seven years ago, when he had had a fight with his new mistress and she had run home to her father. Latzko was her father. Stefan had come to make up with the girl, having decided he'd been unfair in their argument, a dispute he couldn't even recall the subject of, it had been so minor. And Arina had been delighted that he'd come to fetch her back. An old suitor of hers hadn't been, however, and had insisted Stefan fight for her. It had been a bother. He hadn't wanted the girl back
that
much. But he had obliged the fellow and won. Ironically, the affair with Arina had only lasted another month.

Latzko came out of his house to greet him now and obviously remembered him, if his welcoming smile was any indication. And why not? The wily brigand hadn't been satisfied with getting his hot-tempered daughter off his hands again, seven years ago. He'd charged Stefan fifty rubles before he could
leave with her, and that was after Stefan had already fought and won that privilege.

“What brings you here this time, Stefan?”

Two other men had come to join Latzko in front of his house. Stefan wasn't pleased to see that Pavel was one of them, and looking as belligerent as he had the last time. But the rest of the village also turned out, the men coming quietly forward to surround Stefan's, their weapons concealed, but Stefan knew how quickly that could change with these mountain people.

He stared at Latzko and said without preamble, “I believe you have something that is mine.”

“Yours?” Latzko laughed heartily. “I'll be damned. They didn't bother to tell me that.”

Stefan gritted his teeth, doubting that, but at the moment he didn't care. “How much?”

“Five hundred?”

“Done.”

“And he has to fight me,” Pavel inserted loud enough for all to hear.

“Done.”

From Latzko's expression, it was clear he hadn't expected the challenge. He even tried to protest. “You are supposed to learn from experience, Pavel, not foolishly make the same mistakes. Didn't he nearly kill you last time with his bare hands?”

“My mistake was not calling for knives last time,” Pavel replied with appalling confidence. “This time we use them.”

The older man made a sound of disgust before he turned back to Stefan. “He bears a grudge, this one.
He blames you for Arina's indifference to him, even though she now lives with some Austrian duke. But I have the last say here, and I say you do not have to fight him.”

Latzko was obviously worried that he wouldn't get his money if something happened to Stefan. But this time Stefan wanted the fight, had been fiercely glad to hear the challenge issued.

“I have already accepted, Latzko, and it will happen now, this minute.”

“Stefan!” Lazar objected behind him, but Stefan merely sent him a silencing glare as he dismounted.

Vasili wasn't as easily shut up. “Let one of us fight in your stead, then. Your position is such that you cannot take these arbitrary risks anymore.”

“I will decide what is a risk and what it's worth. This risk is needed to keep the skin on Tanya's back.”

Vasili's brow shot up in understanding. Stefan needed
something
to expend his anger and fear on before he faced his betrothed. It was a wonder he'd contained those emotions these past twenty-four hours.

“Well, heaven forbid she should lose any skin,” Vasili said dryly now, knowing full well the girl was in no such danger. “Go ahead and get it out of your system this time. But you are going to have to think seriously about curtailing these little pleasures in the future, Stefan, you really are.”

Stefan only gave a curt nod while he removed his sword and coat. He wasn't wearing a knife. Latzko supplied him with his own, a long-bladed dagger with
a good grip on it. And he no sooner had it in hand than Pavel brought his own knife in a downward swing to stab him, to end the fight right there. But Stefan hadn't been expecting a clean fight, not after his last experience with this man. Pavel's dirty tricks had made Stefan angry enough to beat him senseless. He wondered if he'd have to kill him this time, as he caught Pavel's wrist, threw it back, and slashed with his own knife, drawing first blood in a small nick on Pavel's upper arm.

They circled each other now, knives extended, looking for another opening. Neither man had slept in a day and a half, but they didn't feel it; felt nothing but the raw emotion goading them on.

Pavel was eaten up with hate and jealousy. Stefan had relived the horror of his brother's death when he couldn't find Tanya in the woods. But how quickly that had turned to a killing fury when they found the tracks of those three ponies. If he had caught up with the ones who had taken her before now, he would have shown no mercy. Pavel could count himself fortunate that Stefan didn't know yet that he was one of them.

Pavel finally leaped, a false move, since he then dived for Stefan's feet to knock them out from under him. Stefan did go down, face first, but rolled, just missing the knife that ended up buried in the ground where his back had been. He responded with a kick to Pavel's head, which gave Stefan time to get back on his feet, but didn't daze Pavel nearly enough.

Pavel came up charging in an attempt to knock Stefan over again, but Stefan held his ground and
they connected, hands locked to each other's wrists. It was now a matter of strength, of who could hold back the other's blade while making use of his own. They were almost evenly matched in this, both tall and muscular. Stefan still had the advantage—he was angrier.

It ended with Stefan's blade sinking into Pavel's shoulder. The other man stumbled back. Stefan retained his dagger, but he didn't need it anymore. Pain allowed Pavel's exhaustion to catch up with him and he sank slowly to his knees.

“You win a second time,” Latzko told Stefan, officially ending the fight. “If he ever thinks to challenge you again, I'll kill him myself.”

Stefan couldn't care less. “Where is she?” was all he wanted to know.

Latzko flipped his thumb toward his house. “In there. Sleeping. And she wasn't touched, other than to tie her up. But a word of caution, my friend. My men didn't just stumble upon her. I sent them to Warsaw on business. There they were approached and bribed to kill the lady. Fortunately for her, my men don't usually act on such things without my approval. Even more fortunate, the payment turned out to be worthless, rubies made of glass.”

“So you decided to sell her back to me instead?”

The older man shrugged. “What else could I do with her? I'm too old to keep her.”

“You're too greedy to keep her.”

“True.” Latzko grinned. “But come, you're welcome to stay the night, rest—”

“We'll leave now, Latzko, but thank you just the same.”

In the house, Stefan found that Tanya actually was sleeping, totally unaware that he had come for her and, in a small way, avenged the ordeal she had been put through. But she didn't look the worse for wear, she looked exquisitely beautiful, peaceful in sleep, without a care in the world. He wondered if she even knew how much danger she had been in, that if the one who was trying to kill her could have afforded better than jewels made of glass, she might be dead now. He wondered if she knew how much agony he had gone through, first thinking wolves had got to her, then fearing it had been the assassin.

He didn't wake her. He picked her up carefully and carried her out of there, handing her to Serge only long enough for him to mount and take her up on his lap. She did stir then, briefly opening her eyes to see him.

“Oh, hello, Stefan.” She closed her eyes again and smiled, snuggling closer against him. “Did you meet Latzko? Nice fellow, but I hope you didn't have to pay him too much money.”

“A paltry sum,” he grunted. “Had he known it, he could have asked for the moon, and I would have gotten it for him.”

“The moon?” She yawned, but once that was done, her smile was even wider.

He was chagrined. He hadn't meant to admit something like that. He said what he'd meant to tell her. “You can thank your friend Pavel that I didn't go
looking for a switch the moment I got here. Now I'm too tired to beat you.”

That took care of her smug little smile. “Why would you want to beat me?”

“We'll discuss it later.”

Her eyes opened wide. “No, I want—”

“Later!”

“Your putting me off was what led to this, you stupid man,” she grumbled.

“A demonstration of your willfulness? I think you'll continue to wear those bindings until I get you home.”

But she didn't. He cut her loose himself when they met up with the coaches that evening at the estate of some baron, a man who bubbled over with welcome, ecstatic that King Stefan should honor him with a visit. The man's entire house was put at Stefan's disposal, including his own luxurious bedroom, which Stefan merely accepted as his due.

Tanya found herself sharing the same room. She'd been bristling the rest of the afternoon, getting no more sleep. She was prepared, thinking they'd be having their fight, which was going to be a royal one, then and there, but she was wrong. Stefan, after locking the door and pocketing the key, promptly lay down on the huge and rather ancient bed the room contained and went to sleep.