Forever in Your Embrace (71 page)

Tyrone swung around in surprise as Grigori tossed back the flap of his tent and swept through the opening.

“Colonel!”

“What is it?” The question was filled with dread, for Tyrone knew his second-in-command well enough to grasp the fact that whatever was troubling the younger man was of a serious nature. If his tone wasn’t a clear indication of the depth of his alarm, then his worried frown was.

“Ladislaus is coming!”

Tyrone almost relaxed, thinking he had become too easily unnerved with all the waiting. “At last! I had nigh given up hope.”

“Colonel! There’s more!”

Tyrone halted, again feeling a coldness creeping through his vitals. “More? What do you mean, more? Does he bring the whole Cossack clan back with him?” The sharp scowl that gathered the younger man’s brows did not ease, spurring Tyrone’s impatience to know the worst of it. “Dammit, Grigori, spit it out! What frets you, man?”

“It’s your wife…the Lady Synnovea…”

In one long stride Tyrone was across the tent, clasping the front of Grigori’s cloak as his apprehension deepened to a cold, hellish fear. “What about Synnovea?”

“Ladislaus has taken her captive, Colonel! She’s with him now, even as they ride toward the camp!”

“Are you certain?” In agonizing anguish, Tyrone slowly thumped his limp fists against the other’s chest as he demanded affirmation. “Are you positive about what you saw?”

“Aye, Colonel. Avar and I both saw her. She’s riding behind Petrov, and it appears that there’s a long tether binding her to the brigand.”

“Damn!” The word exploded from Tyrone’s lips as he all but hurled himself from the tent. Heedless of the cold, brisk wind that quickly penetrated his woolen tunic, he stalked over to Avar, who stood waiting. “You saw her, too?”

The scout met the probing gaze of the blue eyes unwaveringly. “Aye, Colonel. There iz no question. It iz yur wife. Ve vere vaiting in the coverin’ of trees vhen Ladislaus rode past. Ve vere both near enough to see her face clearly. There vas no mistake.”

“How can this be?” Tyrone clamped a hand to his brow as the horror of their announcement crushed down upon him with merciless gravity. Frantically he searched his mind for some strategy that would secure Synnovea’s immediate release, but he knew that none would be totally free of danger. Whirling, he faced his second-in-command as that one joined them. “I’ve got to free her, Grigori! I’ve got to go down there and meet Ladislaus face-to-face!”

“Colonel, I need not tell you how dangerous a deed it would be for you to do that,” Grigori cautioned, understanding the depth of his friend’s distress. “He’ll likely kill you without pausing to ask questions. And if you try to take a force of men with you to guarantee his good comportment, he’ll likely escape and take your wife with them.”

“I know all of that, but that doesn’t change anything. If it’s Synnovea…” Tyrone was set to argue with all of his heart.

“Then you must be exceedingly cautious about what you do. If they slip out of our trap with so precious a prize in their grasp, we may never get her back. You must think this through carefully. We’ve no other choice but to bide our time until we close the trap around them. Only when the passes are closed will we prevent their escape.”

“I’ve got to go down there alone before the trap is sprung and get Synnovea out of there!” Tyrone barked impatiently. “If I don’t, they’ll try to use her as a hostage against us.”

“If your mind is set, Colonel, please consider the possibility that you’ll be giving them a second hostage,” Grigori advised, “one they’ll likely kill! Ladislaus may have you cut down just out of spite.”

Tyrone raked his fingers through his wind-tossed hair as he fretted over the dilemma that now faced him and debated his choices, but only briefly. Arriving at a decision, he spoke brusquely. “Even thieves should know what a white flag is for. I’m going down to talk with Ladislaus, and I intend to make him understand how perilous his position is. If he kills Synnovea or me, then he’ll have to answer to the cannons. I must convince him that there’ll be no escape for any of them once the passes into his camp are closed. When he’s faced with that threat, I rather doubt that even Ladislaus will prove unreasonable.”

Moving away from the two officers, Avar crept into the trees buttressing the edge of the gorge and, from there, observed the arrival of Ladislaus and his men as they came through the pass. He silently beckoned the officers near, and when the two joined him there, they watched for several moments while Ladislaus and most of his men dismounted. Then they saw the lordling thief approach Petrov’s mount and whisk the feminine form to the ground.

“Colonel, I agree vith yu. Yu shouldn’t give Ladislaus time to relax an’ settle his mind on yur wife. My sister iz down there somevhere. I haven’t seen her since she vas taken a year ago, but I’ve no doubt she has been sullied by the man. Like yur vife, she iz too pretty for Ladislaus to ignore. My earnest quest iz to find my sister an’ take her back home vith me.”

Tyrone laid a hand upon the scout’s shoulder and then returned to his tent, giving orders as he went for his mount to be saddled and a white cloth to be tied to a standard. Then he donned a weightier leather doublet to better guard against the thieves’ weapons. Hopefully it would also lend him some bit of protection from the cold that had settled its frigid breath upon their camp.

Grigori came to inform his commander that everything was in readiness, but the Russian brooded over the perils his friend would be facing without a weapon to defend himself. “You know my concerns, Colonel. I pray that you also give heed to your own welfare in this matter.”

Tyrone made every effort to reassure him. “By God’s mercy, Grigori, I’ll come out of this alive with my wife at my side. I tell you now that I have every reason to live, but she’s down there in my enemy’s hands. Without her, I think my very breath would cease of its own accord.”

Releasing a pensive sigh, Grigori squared his shoulders and met his commander’s searching gaze with a rueful smile. “My mother always claimed that I worried too much, Colonel. Perhaps she was right.”

Tyrone managed an indistinct smile. “Every man has a tendency to do that at times, my friend. Right now, I’m concerned because my wife is down there at the mercy of my enemy. You know what the plans have been and understand what needs to be done in my absence. When I give the signal to fire the cannons, close their back door promptly. As for the rest, I’ll leave that to your own discretion as you observe the sequence of events, since you’ll be in command while I’m gone. Above all, we must convince that braggart thief we are deadly serious.”

“Don’t worry, Colonel. I’ll make Ladislaus consider his vulnerability as he has never done before.”

“Good! That may be the only way he’ll prove tractable. If I find no other means of escape, I’ll climb up here by way of a rope with Synnovea on my back. Keep your eyes sharp and be ready to drop one down should I come running.”

“Believe me, Colonel, we’ll be watching your every movement,” Grigori assured him.

Leaving his tent, Tyrone swung astride his horse, gathered the reins, and accepted the flag of truce. After returning a crisp salute to Grigori, he reined the stallion toward the trail that offered him the fastest descent.

In nothing less than pure exhaustion, Synnovea leaned against Petrov’s horse as Ladislaus cut the leather cord that had bound her to the brawny giant throughout the major portion of their journey from Moscow. His men were already dispersing to other areas of their small village, gladly leaving the two men to handle their captive.

Ladislaus was feeling in fine spirits after the successful abduction and bestowed a wide grin upon Petrov. “You see, my friend, it’s just as I told you it would be. The wench has become quite tame in recent days. Mayhap she’s looking forward to sharing my bed.”

Petrov grunted in unfaltering skepticism. “Wait till she get her wind back, then you see. Maybe she even come after Ladislaus again to kill him.”

“You just don’t understand my way with women,” Ladislaus argued in good humor. “I’ll let this one have a bath and some sleep. She’ll be a different woman once she has rested. I tell you, Petrov, she’ll be grateful enough to love me when she wakes!”

“Hmph!”

Turning to face the source of the contemptuous snort, Ladislaus bent his attention upon the girl, who glared up at him with eyes smoldering with unrestrained fury. Within the drooping cowl of her cloak he could find little evidence of that richly attired countess he had once seen courageously alight from her coach. He beheld instead the face of a small, grubby sprite who had taken enormous delight in antagonizing each and every one of them. At the very least, a score of his cohorts had felt the sharp sting of her wit as well as the pangs of her kicks, scratches, blows, or bites whenever they had made the mistake of venturing too close. Only Petrov had been exempt from her abuse, no doubt because he had become her protector of sorts, for it was that good fellow who had stepped repeatedly between her and those who had sought instant retribution for the injuries she had liberally dispensed. Though her smugly challenging smile had further provoked those whom she had assailed, none had dared test her benefactor’s brawn in their quest for appeasement.

Making no effort to brush back the snarled tresses that formed a tangled, weblike veil across her face, the recalcitrant countess peered up at him jeeringly. Her lean jaw was smudged with a streak of black, and a heavy grime now covered her entire face, a result of their rapid flight across a dusty field. For all of her smirking derision, she seemed much too exhausted to lift herself from her slouched stance, which in the main was supported by the horse’s rump.

“You see!” Petrov jerked his thumb toward her. “She kill you quick if you crazy enough to trust her! Just like the other night, when she escape and take my knife.”

Ladislaus rubbed the healing wound across his palm as he recalled his foolish endeavor to take advantage of the girl’s attempted flight. From beneath drooping eyelids, he had watched her lean stealthily across the loudly snoring Petrov and slip the man’s knife from its sheath. Covertly she had slashed the cords that had fastened her to the sleeping giant and then had rolled away from his side.

Though Ladislaus had fancied the idea of creeping into the shadows after her and taking his pleasure while the rest of his men slumbered on, he hadn’t been prepared for her vicious assault when he neared the place where she had been hiding. He had barely jumped back in time to avoid the death-threatening slash of her knife. Thinking he could easily disarm her, he had grabbed for the weapon, but, in the next instant, had felt the tip of the blade open a gash across his palm. If not for the fact that several of his men had been awakened by his deafening curse, the little chit might have escaped. As it was, she had been dragged back kicking and screaming while she laid every insult she could think of upon their scruffy hides.

Ladislaus faced his cabin and bellowed at the top of his lungs. “Alyona!”

In the next instant the front door was thrown open with sudden force. It rebounded with a loud crack, and in the deafening silence that ensued, a young, dark-haired woman, ponderously close to delivering a child, emerged from the doorway with dark eyes fairly snapping with ire. Halting at the edge of the porch, she glowered at the dumbstruck Ladislaus for a long moment before her gaze flicked mutinously toward Synnovea, bringing that one to alert attention. Then her gaze returned to the lordling thief, where it settled in cold contempt. “So, Ladislaus! At last yu’ve brought a woman home to share yur bed, as if I haven’t served yur lustin’ needs all these many months. Vhat do yu intend for me? Vill yu throw me aside now that I’m fat-bellied vith yur bastard vhelp?”