Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Volkov stepped into the room and lowered the lantern. Lily saw his face illuminated from below, a leering mask of pure evil. When she began to shake, Richard’s arm tightened on her shoulder, and she moved closer.
Other figures huddled in the doorway. She could just make out two or three faces, avid and alive with curiosity.
“What a disgusting little family tableau,” Volkov sneered. “You’ve disappointed me, Lilias.”
Disappointed?
“I had so looked forward to renewing our intimate acquaintance.” He tilted his head as if considering her. Lily gagged back her rising gorge. “I thought if you pleased me particularly well we might postpone your punishment.”
Richard lunged forward. A brutal kick to his shoulder pushed him back against Lily.
“Do control the marquess, Lilias. My ‘assistants’ aren’t particularly careful, and I would much prefer that he die slowly.”
“You want me, Konstantin, not Glenaire. Let him go.”
“Touching. I presume he is responsible for your interesting condition? He really ought to pay for that. What will your dear Papa think of all this? Perhaps I should act in his stead since he is nowhere to be found.” He put a finger to his lips as if considering something.
“I owe him for your papa’s disappearance also, don’t I? My men tracked him to Copenhagen but lost him. Did you know that?”
Papa, what did you do? Any relief that Volkov had failed to find her father faded under his current threat.
“This marquess of yours also made life difficult in London.” He kicked Richard’s ribs. “Yes, I owe this one quite a bit.”
“The question is what to do with you? I discovered your destination by sheer luck from an encounter on Malta. I paid dearly to be told when you left the Seraglio.” He laughed, an ugly miserable laugh.
“Not enough perhaps. I had not counted on finding you with another man’s bastard.
I truly hate taking someone else’s leavings. ”
Lily had no warning when he yanked her arm with his free hand and pulled her up.
“No!” she screamed.
Richard fell sideways. She could see him try to rise from the corner of her eye.
Volkov yanked her forward with his left hand.
The lantern in his right swung ominously.
The thought of her flowing veils catching fire caused her to yank instinctively on Volkov’s hand.
She batted at the lantern with her free hand and knocked it against Volkov.
“Damned whore, you’ll pay for this!” Volkov shouted when fire singed his jacket. He dropped Lily and the lantern, plunging them into darkness. Lily scooted back into the farthest corner she could find.
In the light of a flickering torch hastily brought up to the entrance by one of Volkov’s minions, she saw Volkov swing around to her with murder in his eyes and step forward. Behind him, Richard rose to his knees and staggered upright.
A tall man dressed, unlike his fellows, in a short jacket and loose trousers shouted from the door at Volkov who ignored him and kept coming toward Lily.
The man snapped his fingers. Someone grabbed Volkov’s shoulder and pulled him back.
They shouted in a stream of Turkish, Russian, and other languages.
Richard seized the opportunity to move in front of Lily.
“That man told Volkov we’re too valuable to damage,” Lily whispered in his ear. “He spoke Russian, if poorly.”
Two of the men in black subdued Volkov, one holding either arm. They joined the argument with Volkov and then began to argue among themselves.
“It isn’t quite Arabic or Turkish either. I think I hear Berber, at least when they speak between one another,” she told him. She felt him stiffen.
Volkov ordered them to let him go. “It is none of your business who these people are. They belong to me,” he shouted. They spat in his face.
“They’re saying he failed to pay them!” Lily exclaimed. Astonishment momentarily banished fear.
The tall man at the door crowded into their prison carrying a torch. He flicked a brief glance at Lily and Richard, but he saved his contempt for Volkov.
“He’s listing unpaid bills,” she said thickly. She clung to Richard’s back.
“Bills for?”
“Murder, beatings, across Greece. Hazard pay for coming into Constantinople itself, I think. He says they grow weary and will take the prize for payment.” Lily felt a surge of hope. “What prize?”
“Us. We’re the prize.” Richard cursed quietly.
Her hope faded. “Who are these people?”
“Corsairs, most likely.”
Hope died. Lily’s heart stuttered. “Corsairs?”
“Barbary Pirates.”
A swift blow from the flat of a scimitar quieted Volkov. He hung limp and unconscious between his two captors. Richard spared him no pity. The corsairs tossed the Russian to the floor and began to strip him systematically until he lay naked and unmoving on the cold stone floor.
The tall man with the torch shone his light on Richard and shoved him sideways to have a better look at Lily. He reached over to lift a lock of her hair where it hung in disarray on her shoulder.
“Don’t touch her.” Richard shouted. He extended a hand to stop the man and got a slap across the face for his trouble. The blow snapped his head back and threw him into the wall.
The man moved his light closer to Lily; he examined her face and hair with meticulous care. He spoke to her in Russian. She answered in Turkish.
“What did he say?” Richard asked through swollen lips.
“Not Turkish,” Lily answered without taking her eyes from their captor. “I assured him I am not.”
“English,” the man said, his speech heavily accented but perfectly clear. “Both?”
In the dim light, Richard could see her pulse pound in her neck, but she stood tall and did not look away from the man.
“Both of us, yes,” Lily told the man. Her courage strengthened Richard’s.
Behind their tormentor, the two black-clad guards finished trussing Volkov hand and foot.
One hefted his purse and laughed. Gold flashed in the hand of other man, the bigger of the two.
The bigger man had thrown back the mask that covered his face in the passageway.
Richard could see the deep scar that marked the right side of his face from brow to chin and the smaller scar across his lips that gave him a perpetual sneer.
Scarface stuffed the gold ring in his robes and strode over to where Richard and Lily stood. He shot Richard a contemptuous look, grabbed Lily by the hair, and pulled out a curved dagger.
“Don’t touch her,” Richard shouted helplessly just before a blow to his midsection from the third man crumpled him to the floor. The two captors argued over Lily in a language he didn’t understand while the third relieved him of his jacket and began to finger it as if assessing its value.
He struggled to his knees and looked up into Lily’s eyes, eyes wide with terror. When he tried to stumble forward, the man who had removed his jacket, who appeared to be the younger of the three, twisted his arm up above his shoulder.
“Lily,” Richard called through a haze of pain, “what are they saying?”
Her answering voice wavered, the sound coming thin and reedy. “The one with scars says a pregnant woman is worth nothing and I will slow them. He wants to—”
A loud scream from Volkov cut her off. He rolled and struggled against his bonds, unleashing a torrent of invective, drawing all eyes to him.
The older man, the one Richard began to pray was the leader, shouted at him in Russian. Volkov shouted back. All three laughed, and the oldest spat some words.
“What are they saying?” Richard demanded, gasping for breath.
“Volkov called them filthy names and demanded that they follow his orders. This man called him ‘yazychnik’ and ordered him to be silent or—”
“Or what?”
“Or they will slit his throat.”
Volkov opened his mouth as if to speak again, but only a gurgling sound came out. Scarface picked up Volkov’s torn shirt, sliced it with his dagger in one swoop, and gagged him with it.
“Yazychnik sounds Russian.” Richard whispered. “What does it mean?”
“Infidel,” she answered on a breath.
As if at her word, Scarface turned on his heel, but before he could approach Lily again, the older man barked an order, and they began to strip Richard as they had Volkov. Scarface pulled his right hand so hard he thought his arm might leave its socket. He began to pull at Richard’s signet ring.
Richard pulled back and started to object, but Scarface took his dagger and threatened to cut off the finger with the ring. Richard forced himself to relax. His grandfather’s ring with its intaglio coat of arms carved on a perfect sapphire disappeared into Scarface’s robes.
The younger man began to bind Richard’s hands. Scarface moved toward Lily, baring his teeth and spitting one word in her face. “Kafir.”
“Don’t touch her, you dog!” Richard roared, lunging forward only to be yanked back. He shouted himself hoarse; they ignored him. He cursed Volkov for the animal he was. He fought to break loose from his bonds until pain shot through his head and darkness overcame him.
Lily. Oh God, Lily.