with you.” He smiled unpleasantly as he mounted his horse. “Or I may send you the boy’s head. You will have to wait and see. It’s exceptionally easy to crush a young child.” He dropped the climbing rose panel on the ground in front of her. It did not shatter, but a large crack appeared at the upper-left corner. He nudged his horse forward until the animal’s front hooves crushed the fragile glass. “Like that. It is something for you to remember while I make my decision.”
He whirled his horse and galloped out of the camp.
“Don’t look like that,” Gregor said gently. “He would not kill the boy. He only wanted to make you suffer.”
She looked down at the broken glass at her feet. The scarlet roses were like glittering drops of blood on the earth. “He has made me suffer.” She stared at Costain’s body sprawled across the horse a few yards away. She wished it were Nebrov’s body. Ever since that terrible night she had been afraid of Nebrov. His gigantic shadow had darkened every moment. Now fear was being ousted by anger. He had killed her mother. He might still kill Jordan and Alex. Someone must put an end to this evil.
“We must break camp at once,” Gregor said. “We want to be out of Montavia and halfway to the Bordlin steppes by the time Nebrov reaches Pekbar. He will be in a rage when he finds Alex gone and is bound to ride after us with every man in his command.”
“If Alex is gone,” she said dully. If Jordan was not dead.
The thought sent another bolt of terror through her. She had spent a sleepless night trying to bring fear under control, but it was here again, staring her in the face. Jordan could be dead, and she wouldn’t even know it. He could have slipped into that castle and been captured-
She was suddenly impatient with herself. She was giving Nebrov every particle of the misery and heartache he had wished to incite. Jordan was more clever than any man she had ever met. He alone could free Alex despite the odds. She refused to let Nebrov win any more victories from her. She nodded brusquely. “You’re right, Gregor. We’ll start at once for Kazan.”
“Jordan will still be alive when we reach there, Marianna. You must have faith.”
She glanced at him and saw both understanding and pity. He had been there when she had told Nebrov she loved Jordan. She wanted to tell him she had lied, that she had only been trying to delay Nebrov. It was impossible. She had been able to convince Nebrov because her words had rung with truth. Gregor, who knew her well, would not believe a denial.
“You will not tell him?” she asked haltingly.
He shook his head. “We have already robbed you of too much.” He paused. “I am sorry, Marianna.”
He was sorry because he knew that there could be no happiness or permanency in such a love. He was sorry because Jordan was the Duke of Cambaron and she was a craftsman. He was sorry because he knew Jordan’s passion would eventually fade, and she would be left with ashes. She smiled bitterly. “Don’t be sorry. Nebrov is right. I’m a fool. You should never be sorry for fools. It only encourages them never to seek wisdom.”
She turned and went into her tent.
I don’t like it,” the ravin said. “You did not tell me you were going to practice this madness, or I would have had you confined in Rengar.” She glanced down the hill at the castle. “I will go with you.”
“You will stay here,” Jordan said emphatically. “I have no desire to lose my life because you believe any plan you didn’t make yourself is no plan at all.”
“One man alone? Of course that’s no plan at all.” She turned to Janus. “How strong are Nebrov’s forces here? How long will it take us if we lay siege?”
Janus shrugged. “Two weeks.”
“Which is two weeks too long,” Jordan said. “And we don’t know if Nebrov gave orders for the boy’s execution in case of an attack.” He glanced at Janus. “Alex is being kept in the tower nearest the south wall?”
Janus nodded. “The door will be unlocked and unguarded at midnight for a period of fifteen minutes, no more.”
“What if the guards took your money and plan on taking Jordan’s head as well?” the ravin demanded. “Bribery is always unreliable.”
“True,” Janus said. “And they fear Nebrov.”
“You see?” the ravin demanded of Jordan.
“Then you’ll have the opportunity to swoop down and rescue me.” Jordan turned and started down the steep hill. “So we’ll all be happy.”
“I won’t be-”
He was not listening to her, Ana realized. Her hands clenched into fists as she watched him move like a shadow. Why would he not listen to her? She was tempted to call her captain of the guard and tell him to stop the fool before he killed himself.
If she did, he would never forgive her.
If she didn’t, he might be dead before morning.
Gregor would tell her to leave him alone. He had trained Jordan well, and if anyone could pluck the boy from that tower, it would be her son. Gregor would tell her that she must regard Jordan as she would any of her own soldiers.
But he wasn’t one of her soldiers; he was her son.
She looked up at the night sky. Clouds were covering the moon, but that advantage might not last. Another thing over which she had no control.
Sweet Jesus, she hated being helpless.
The iron door creaked as Jordan carefully opened it. In the silence it sounded like a crack of thunder to him. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder. The guards on the rampart gave no indication they had heard; they were still talking idly.
He stepped into the cell.
An overpowering odor of filth assaulted him.
Where the devil was Alex? He dared not call out. He took another step forward, peering into the darkness.
The corner. A small figure huddled in the far corner.
He moved across the cell, his boots sinking into straw and fecal matter. He felt a surge of anger. For God’s sake, he would not have kept a cockroach in this place, much less a child.
Now he was close enough to see the glitter of Alex’s eyes. Poor lad, he must be terrified. He wanted to call out to reassure him, but it was too dangerous. Just another few steps, and he could risk a whisper.
Pain tore through his kneecap.
He grunted and tottered on one leg.
Alex viciously struck at the other knee with vicious accuracy.
Jordan fell to the floor and reached out blindly as he saw Alex bolt past him toward the door. His hand closed on the boy’s ankle, and he jerked him off balance and down to the floor.
Alex struggled wildly, wriggling in his grasp.
“Alex!” Jordan hissed. “Stop! It’s Jordan.”
Alex froze. “Jordan?”
“Or what’s left of him. What did you hit me with?”
“I took the leg off the stool. I thought you were one of them.”
Jordan released Alex’s ankle. How much time had elapsed during the struggle? “We have to get out of here. The guards will be back soon.”
Alex was already moving toward the door.
“Wait.” He stood up and limped ahead of him. “Stay behind me.”
“How are we getting away from here?”
“We’re going over the south wall.”
They had reached the courtyard and from their vantage point the forty-foot wall appeared an insurmountable barrier. Jordan expected an argument, but without a word Alex followed him until they reached the rope that Jordan had used to scale the wall.
“I’m climbing to the top,” he whispered. “When I get there, I want you to tie the end of the rope around your
