Forever in Your Embrace (76 page)

“No! No! But I tell you there is enough already to fill your coffers to the brim! Those fools wouldn’t hear of a Pole claiming the throne. Indeed, they seemed content to let a simple puppet rule the land.”

“What fool would seriously consider being subjugated beneath the rule of a Polish tsar?” Tyrone chided. “As for the gold, I think I can speak for both of us. You see, we’re quite content with what we already have and are grateful that our heads will remain firmly attached to our shoulders while yours will not.”

Ivan Voronsky’s demeanor crumpled, and he began to sob bitterly, as if all the woes of the world were crushing down upon him. His loud weeping turned to wails of anguish and frustration, until it seemed as if he had no more strength to stand. Weakly he collapsed against the man who held him in an unrelenting vise. Above his muffled crying, running footfalls could be heard rapidly approaching.

“What goes on here?” an officer demanded, unsheathing his sword as he raced through the shadows toward the three. Over his shoulder, he called for reinforcements before slowing his pace to make a more cautious approach. Closely perusing the cloaked figures, he came to a halt and questioned sharply, “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you, ’twould seem,” Tyrone replied solemnly, lifting his head to meet Major Nekrasov’s startled stare.

“Colonel Rycroft! I thought you were gone!”

“I was,” Tyrone answered simply. Then he dipped his head to indicate the grieving cleric, whom he held firmly ensnared by one hand. “We came across a force of Polish mercenaries who had been hired to help this man assassinate the tsar and the patriarch. We camped on the outskirts of the city so none would know of our presence, just in case there were more spies afoot than we had been led to believe. We came here searching for the one whom the mercenaries said they were to meet. The Poles couldn’t lay a name to the traitor, so we had to find him ourselves. I believe you’ve met the man when you escorted the Lady Synnovea to Moscow. He is your prisoner now.”

Nikolai peered down at the glowering cleric, who bared his teeth and hissed like a small, poisonous viper caught by the tail. Breathing in some of the foul stench emitted by his harsh breathing, the major became convinced anon that the man’s present behavior was a truer manifestation of his character than he had thus far exhibited.

Nikolai gestured for the men who had answered his summons to come forth and take the prisoner away to the tower known as Konstantin Yelena. With stoic reserve, the major watched as they grappled with the snarling, struggling man who had taken on the ferocity of a rabid wolf. Finally they managed to subdue him with two lengths of chain and hauled the maddened beast away at the end of his fetters.

After observing their departure until they were out of sight, Nikolai turned almost reluctantly to face his rival. “Colonel, there is a matter of grave concern of which you need to be made aware. Shortly after you left the city, the Lady Synnovea was kidnapped by a band of men who closely matched the descriptions of Ladislaus and his cohorts Countess Andreyevna said your wife’s disappearance wasn’t discovered until the next morning, after the guards you had hired to watch her were found gagged and bound in the garden. By then it was too late to scour the countryside with any hope of halting their flight. I’m sorry.”

“Ease your mind, Major,” Tyrone replied. “At present, my wife is safely ensconced in my camp outside the city.”

Nikolai was momentarily taken aback by surprise. “Considering how adamant Ladislaus has been to have Her Ladyship for himself, I was sure no one would ever see her again. How did you manage to get her back?”

“ ’Twas my extreme good fortune to be in the right area at the right time.” A slight smile etched Tyrone’s lips. “You may be relieved to hear that Ladislaus has decided to repent of his lawless ways and has come to ask full pardon from the tsar. At present, he’s also in my camp, sporting a wound that’s more impressive than serious. Nevertheless, he’s happy showing off his new son. Without the help that he and his men gave us, we’d never have been able to capture the mercenaries.”

“Ladislaus here? In your camp? Can that really be true?”

A lopsided grin made an appearance as Tyrone gazed back at him. The major only reflected his own disbelief when the thief had made his proposal. “I know it sounds farfetched, Major, but Grigori can confirm what I say.”

“I was reluctant to believe it myself,” the captain offered, “but it seems that Ladislaus dotes upon the sister of our scout. Now that he’s a father, he feels he must make a better way for his offspring than he had growing up. Ladislaus was tutored by some of the best, but his father—a Polish prince—refused to lawfully claim him as his son. Ladislaus has asked the girl to marry him, and if he’s pardoned, he’ll then avail himself of the opportunity to seek an honest profession.”

Major Nekrasov chortled at the wonder of such miracles. Then he cleared his throat behind a hand as he prepared to speak of an entirely different matter. “Colonel Rycroft, I’m not sure if you know that General Vanderhout insisted upon taking the rest of your regiment out, along with troops from other regiments, on the premise of evaluating their performance….”

Tyrone braced himself as he and Grigori exchanged worried glances. “What is it, Major?”

“Well, as far as I’ve been able to ascertain, General Vanderhout had no idea how fierce Cossacks can be when they’re set awry…”

“Go on, Major,” Tyrone prodded impatiently as that one paused to look at him. “What has happened?”

“There was a complete rout, Colonel. Your men wanted to stay and fight, but General Vanderhout didn’t want to take the chance that they’d anger the Cossacks more than they had been already. He ordered your men back to Moscow and followed swiftly with the others, making a valiant attempt to outrun the Cossacks, who had threatened to set fire to his heels if he dallied overlong in their territory. Once the general passed through the outer gates of Moscow, the Cossacks entertained themselves with the debris your commander had left behind in his haste, not only muskets but several cannons which had been requested by him. The Cossacks built large campfires, hooted and cavorted while they harassed Muscovites morning and night with their newfound artillery. No real damage was done, at least none that I’m aware, but ’twas nearly three days before the Cossacks finally ceased their chicanery and took themselves off to seek other diversions. Since then, the general has been in hiding. I believe he’s ashamed—and possibly afraid—to show his face.”

Grigori burst into laughter and made no effort to curb his amusement as Major Nekrasov glanced at him obliquely. It was a full moment before Tyrone was able to speak without following his second-in-command’s example.

“All appears to have gone well in our absence,” he commented drolly.

Thoroughly bemused, Nikolai contemplated the Englishman, who seemed to have trouble hiding a smile. “You appear to be taking the news exceptionally well, Colonel. I rather assumed that you and the general were good friends, what with Vanderhout being a foreigner and your commander and all….”

“I needn’t look to foreigners or those of my own circumstance for friendship, Major.” Tyrone laid an arm around Grigori’s shoulder and pulled him close against his side. “Here is a true friend, Major. He is one who seeks my good. As for General Vanderhout…well, I value him considerably less than my most casual acquaintances.”

Tyrone swept a hand to his brow in a casual salute of farewell. Even as the pair made their departure, occasional spurts of laughter drifted back. With something akin to a perplexed smile flitting across his face, Major Nekrasov turned and made his way toward the Palace of Facets, where he would tell the tsar everything that Colonel Rycroft had related to him. Then he would escort His Majesty to the Blagoveshchenskii Sobor, where Tsar Mikhail would meet with the patriarch and priest for an hour of private worship. Father and son would no doubt want to offer a special prayer of t
hank
sgiving because the culprits had been caught before completing their mission.

22

The citizens of Moscow stood back as the dusty soldiers rode across the area of Red Square, escorting another collection of wildly outfitted warriors between their ranks. A pair of women, one bearing a wee babe wrapped in a swaddling blanket and the second garbed in an encompassing cloak, rode in a small cart filled with hay, a preference each had insisted upon for at least two diverse reasons. A battery of cannon followed. At the rear of the procession came the wagons, a pair of which were filled with the wounded.

It was this sight that greeted Aleksei as he stepped from his sledge. He was still gaping when he took note of the dark-haired woman in the cart, that very one he had ordered Ladislaus to kidnap from Natasha’s manse. And if that wasn’t enough, her abductor now rode at the fore of his cohorts, like some valiant soul on his way to receive a medal.

Aleksei felt his chest instantly gripped by a coldness that nearly halted his breathing. Only that morning he had been in his chambers and had heard Anna wailing in fear because she was being summoned to the tsar’s palace to discuss what she knew about the matter of Ivan Voronsky’s treasonous attempt. She was convinced that within |a matter of days she would be escorted to the Place of the Brow, the Lobnoe Mesto, where she would pay for the crime of befriending a traitor, except that she fervently contended that she had lacked any knowledge of the man’s real intentions.

Now here he was, Aleksei brooded, seeing his own life pass before him as the death knell tolled out the hour of his impending doom. Tsar Mikhail had warned him, but he had foolishly given little heed. Instead, he had taken great delight in arranging Synnovea’s abduction, like some lecherous fool intent upon getting his head separated from his body. It was unmitigated fear that now restricted his breathing and made his heart quail within his breast.

A crowd had quickly gathered in the square, having heard of the success of the company of soldiers that they were now viewing. Purportedly, Major Nekrasov had first reported the incident to the tsar, who then had called the matter to the attention of the Russian delegates, the zemskiy sobor. From the boyars, the story had spread to every area of the city until the loyal citizenry were in awe of the miracle of it. To totally immobilize an invading force, rumored to be at least five times larger, and then to subsequently halt the assassination of not only the good patriarch but the tsar himself…why, it was a feat worthy of eminent recognition!

Aleksei ground his teeth in vexation, abhorring the assembling throng of humanity crowding in around him. To mpletely surrounded by those intent upon hailing the English colonel and that barbaric Ladislaus as champions of the day was the most outrageous affront he had ever had to endure. He yearned to see both men fed piece by bloody piece to the ravens, for each had stolen that very treasure he had endangered his life to possess.

“Excuse me! Excuse me!”

Aleksei glanced around with a start as a foreign officer jostled him in his haste to press past him. The man gave every indication that all the demonic guardians of the netherworld were after him as he tossed a frantic look over his shoulder.

“Excuse me!” he asserted again and was about to forge resolutely past the prince when a feminine voice called to him from the midst of the crowd.

“Yoo-hoo, Edvard! I must speak vith yu! Vait!”

Almost frantically, the one called Edward pressed forward, nearly shoving Aleksei aside as he sought to wedge his way through the ever-increasing mass of people, as if by some small miracle he hadn’t heard the woman. Muttering to himself, Edward berated his own wisdom for having gotten involved. “Fool! Fool! Weren’t you warned? But no, you dullard! You just had to bed down with the general’s wife! What a fine kettle of fish you’ve gotten yourself into! Your whole career will be ruined!”