She was out of sight of camp by now, and she slowed the mare to a halt and dismounted to lean against her shoulder. Zhashi nuzzled her cheek and then nosed at her belt, trying to pry her shirt loose.
'Stop that, you miserable beast,' Tess said with affection. 'I don't have anything for you.' She rubbed Zhashi's forehead with her knuckles and then found a tangled stretch of mane and combed it free with her fingers. Distracted, she fished in her pouch and brought out a length of ribbon, which she braided into Zhashi's mane. Zhashi submitted to this attention with the patience of the vain.
It was soothing work. The bitter truth was, she was still running away. She was still afraid to face Charles. And Ilya-
'The other bitter truth is, Zhashi, that I love him too much. He's been gone for a month, and when I saw him walking across to us, it was like seeing the sun rising. Lord, I sound like any love-sick adolescent. But he's so beautiful.' Zhashi snorted in disgust and bent her head to rip up a clump of grass. 'Oh, certainly not more beautiful than you, my dear. How could I ever have said such a thing?' Tess chuckled, then sobered, tying off the ribbon. 'Oh, Zhash, I don't know what to do.'
Zhashi resumed grazing. The indistinct gold of the plain extended without interruption to the sharp line that separated grass and sky. Thin strings of cloud laced one half of the sky, trailing down below the horizon. The wind blew-the wind always blew here-whipping the tall grass into a frenzy. At the horizon, she could see the amorphous mass of a herd of horses, out grazing. The sun hung a handsbreadth above the horizon, sinking, and the moon already shone, pale, in the deepening blue of the sky.
She had to go back, of course. She mounted and headed back toward camp, back toward Charles's encampment. An hour or two with Charles, then back to her own tent for the reunion with Ilya. That ought to satisfy both of them, as a beginning.
But as she came into sight of camp, a rider intercepted her. It was Ilya. She considered for an instant trying to avoid him, but it was undignified, for one thing, and for the other, he could outride her without thinking about it, and he was mounted on his stallion, Kriye. She pulled up instead and waited.
Kriye began to prance, showing off for Zhashi as Bakhtiian reined him in beside Tess. With a ruthless tug on the reins, Bakhtiian brought the black to an abrupt halt. 'Damned horse,' Bakhtiian muttered. Then he looked up at her.
More than any other feature, it was his eyes that Tess loved. They burned. They were lit, pervaded by an intensity that was perhaps, just perhaps, a little mad. Obsessed, at the very least, but no more so than Charles was obsessed. Charles just hid it better.
'Tess.' His voice sounded hoarse. He reached out and took hold of her left hand, gripping it tightly.
'Oh, Ilya,' she said impulsively. 'I missed you.'
From her hand, it was but a turn of the wrist for him to take hold of her reins and commandeer them for himself. Zhashi minced, objecting to this kidnapping. 'You're coming with me,' said Ilya, and started back for camp, leading Zhashi.
'Damn you.' Tess went red. 'Give me back my reins.'
'You're coming with me.'
''I won't have you leading me through camp like this.''
He did not reply. His trail led away from the distant Soerensen enclave, around the fringe of tents. But she saw quickly enough what he was doing. Vladimir and Anatoly Sakhalin stood waiting at the edge of camp to receive the horses. Tess was damned if she'd make a scene in front of them. She dismounted, handed Zhashi over to Sakhalin, and hoped like hell that the chestnut mare would kick him.
Then she relented. Seeing Anatoly's arm in a sling reminded her too bitterly of Kirill Zvertkov, who had never regained use of his injured arm. 'What happened?' she asked Anatoly.
'Speared and trampled,' he said cheerfully. He wiggled the fingers of his left hand. 'But you see, the prince's healer says I'll be free of this sling in a hand of days.'
'Ah. Dr. Hierakis looked at you. I'm glad.' She smiled at the young man, whom she liked well enough, except for his doglike devotion to Bakhtiian. 'But then again,' she remarked aloud, walking alongside Ilya into the darkening expanse of camp, 'they're all besotted with you.'
He had a good grip on her wrist, but he walked so close to her that anyone passing them might not mark that he was forcing her to go along with him. 'Not all of them,' he replied. 'I'm sending Suvorin and his jahar to the coast. His sister's son died in the battle. I'm keeping his son with my thousand, now.'
'A hostage for Suvorin's good behavior.'
'It's a great honor, to ride with my jahar.'
' 'It's a great honor to ride in any of the first rank jahars. Like Yaroslav Sakhalin's jahar. Those that are allowed to, that is.'
His fingers tightened convulsively on her wrist, but he did not rise to the bait. Fuming, Tess kept silent. They walked the rest of the way without saying one single word. At last they came to the clearing in the center of camp that housed her tent. Its colors had already gone dull in the deepening twilight. The golden banner of the army that graced its peak fluttered and sank in the dying wind. No one accosted them here, as if the camp had been emptied out before their arrival. Around the great tent in a crescent stood the other tents of the Orzhekov family, those who remained here with the army: Sonia's tent, Nadine's tent, Aleksi's little tent and those of a few female cousins. At the very edge of the crescent stood the tent of Juli Danov and her husband Nikolai Sibirin, bridging the gap between the tents of the Orzhekov family and those surrounding the center of camp who were of the Orzhekov tribe. Beyond them, in the same kind of clusters, spread the tents of the other tribes of the first rank, Sakhalin and Grekov, Suvorin and Arkhanov, Velinya and Raevsky and Vershinin and Fedoseyev. And beyond them, their daughter tribes, and their daughters' daughter tribes, the army of the jaran.
Three figures waited under the awning of Tess's tent. Ilya did not let go of her even after they crossed onto the carpet. 'Out,' he said to the occupants.
Sonia Orzhekov rose. Her blonde hair was braided with ribbons and beads, giving her a festive look, but her normally cheerful expression was stern. 'Cousin,' she said to Ilya, 'I expect better manners from you.'
'I beg your pardon, cousin.' He bent at once and kissed her on either cheek, and for an instant his expression softened. 'Where are the little ones?
'Well away,' said Sonia ominously.
'Then,' he said stiffly, 'if you please, I would like a word alone with my wife.'
Sonia crossed over to Tess and gave her adopted sister a hug. 'Well,' she said, 'I'm glad to see you home safely, at any rate.' She flashed a glance back at Bakhtiian, but did not elaborate on her statement. 'Come along, Aleksi.' Aleksi followed her away.
Nadine rose as well, heading after them.
'You'll stay,' said Ilya abruptly. 'I want your report.'
Nadine halted and turned to face her uncle. 'You don't really want my report. You're just exacting vengeance because I took Tess with me despite what you wanted.'
'Orzhekov, you are a jahar leader because of your skill, not because you are my niece. I expect you to behave accordingly. Now, your report.'
Like her uncle, Nadine had the ability to make her face go still, revealing no emotion. In a tight voice, she delivered her report of their journey.
'And the ambassador?' Ilya asked. 'Where is he now?'
'I installed him in the northeastern corner with the other foreign embassies. May I make a suggestion?'
'You may.'
'When you receive him, I suggest you put the fear of the gods into him.''
'Ah,' said Ilya, looking for an instant thoughtful rather than angry. 'I understand. You may go.'
'Thank you.' With a curt nod, Nadine left.
'That certainly was both comprehensive and enlightening,' said Tess in Rhuian, drawling slightly. 'I have nothing to add to her edifying report. Now, I'll join Nadine.' She did not move, however, because he still had hold of her wrist.
In khush, without looking at her, he said: 'I haven't given you permission to leave.'
'Haven't you? I wasn't aware that I required your permission to leave.'
Now he turned. 'I expressly told you not to leave camp.'
'Yes, you did, and it finally occurred to me that since you won't trust me as a soldier, then I might as well act
