Chapter 34
Kassandra tossed her head from side to side, lost in the depths of an all-consuming nightmare.
There were no shapes, only faceless, creeping shadows.
They advanced, looming over her, then receded, disappearing into a smothering gray mass, a dense cloud, settling over her, covering her.
She couldn’t breathe…she couldn’t breathe!
Kassandra gasped, her body jerking spasmodically. She dragged open the oppressive weight of her eyelids, only to close them once again.
Her lungs drew in great gasps of air, tinged with the fetid odor of rotting fish, damp wood, and mildew. The smell unsettled her empty stomach and she gagged, rolling heavily onto her side, afraid she might choke.
She was ill…something was wrong with her, she thought dazedly, trying to lift her head.
It fell back to the mattress with a thud, the throbbing at her temples heightening into piercing pain.
She cried out, her hand cradling her forehead, her moans echoing about the cramped cabin, dark but for the thin slivers of light squeezing through the small slatted window.
A key grated in a lock and the door creaked open, lamplight flooding in from a narrow hallway. Kassandra blinked against the brightness. Two figures were framed in the light, their whispering voices carrying to her from a few feet away.
What were they saying? She didn’t recognize their clipped language. Who were they? Where was she? The door slammed shut on her unanswered questions, the key twisted, and footsteps scurried down a hall, fading into silence.
Kassandra rose up on her elbow and stared straight in front of her at the window, forcing herself to take slow, even breaths.
Gradually the stabbing pain in her head subsided, becoming a dull ache.
Her blurred vision began to focus, and the queasy feeling in her stomach settled into a gnawing emptiness.
Yet she still felt as if she was rocking up and down, a dizzying motion that occasionally pitched the bed forward, bumping the headboard into the planked wall.
Strange, she mused, the muddled fog clearing from her mind, her thoughts growing sharper. She had felt this motion before, last summer, on the boat that had taken her and her father down the Danube from Ratisbon to Vienna…
She started, her eyes widening in horror.
Sweet Lord, she was on a boat! She twisted around, her gaze flying about the shadowed cabin.
It was very small and plainly furnished with a chair and an armoire upon which was stacked a pile of books.
The bed she lay upon was very narrow, the mattress hard and lumpy.
The ceiling was low; an unlit oil lamp swung overhead, back and forth, back and forth, further testament that she was aboard a vessel of some kind. But how?
“What is happening?” Kassandra whispered plaintively. She struggled to sit up, almost falling back upon the mattress as dizziness assailed her. She grabbed on to the headboard until the vertigo passed, her forehead furrowed in desperate thought, remembering.
She had been waiting for Stefan in the hunting lodge…she bent over to pull on her boots…she heard the door open…the cloth, pressed over her mouth…now she was here, on a boat.
Maybe it was all a terrible dream, Kassandra thought numbly, peering out the thin slats of the window. Tears stung her eyes at the wide expanse of glistening water between her and the rolling shoreline, green and thickly wooded.
It wasn’t a dream! Panic-stricken, she sprang from the bed, her legs buckling beneath her.
She fell heavily to the floor, expelling her breath in a loud gasp.
Stunned, she lay inert, wincing as feeling flowed back into her limbs, pricking her like sharp pins and needles.
She began to crawl toward the door, where she grabbed on to the latch and pulled herself to her knees.
“Help! Please, someone help me!” she cried, tears streaming down her flushed face. She rattled the latch up and down, but to no avail. The door was locked. With great effort she rose to her feet, the room spinning. She clung to the door, pounding on it weakly. “Please, let me out! Let me out!”
Loud footsteps sounded, a key was fitted into the lock, and then the door was pushed open so abruptly that Kassandra fell back against the armoire.
Pain shot through her shoulder, but she ignored it. She swiped the tears from her face and rushed forward, straight into the arms of a tall man who said something to the sailor beside him.
Kassandra tensed at the familiar voice, though she did not understand his words, spoken in a language wholly foreign to her. She stared up at him, but in the dark she couldn’t see his face.
It was only when someone brushed by her and lit an oil lamp that her eyes widened in startled surprise as she recognized the man who held her…Count Frederick Althann.
Wild with relief, she collapsed against his chest. Whatever had brought about this nightmare was now, thankfully, at an end.
What a coincidence that Count Althann should rescue her from this confusion! She embraced him gratefully, her mind racing with questions. Then she shrugged, stifling giddy laughter. What did her questions matter? She was safe!
Frederick held her against him, stroking her silken hair, well able to imagine her thoughts.
He hardened his heart. A pity, but not to be helped.
He suddenly extricated himself from her embrace, nodding to the sailor.
The man grabbed Kassandra’s arms at the elbow and dragged her back, shoving her onto the bed.
“Wh-what?” she blurted, her eyes moving from Frederick to the sailor, who was lustfully appraising her, a crooked grin on his face. “Count Althann…?”
“You must forgive his rudeness, Lady Kassandra,” he murmured, bowing slightly.
“He knows no better.” He nodded to the sailor, who quickly left the cabin, then walked over to the chair, pulled it closer to the bed, and sat down.
“How are you feeling, my lady? You have been asleep for well over a day.”
Kassandra gaped at him in total astonishment. What was going on? Here she was in a cramped cabin, on a strange boat, bound for God knew where, and Count Althann was asking after her health!
An unsettling thought struck her. This serious-faced man sitting across from her was hardly the fop she remembered from Prince Eugene’s gala.
There was nothing effeminate about him, not in the simple cut of his clothes, not in his posture, not in his steady, intense gaze. She blushed, noting his ice-blue eyes were fixed on the rapid rise and fall of her chest. No, he was not the same man at all!
“I-I am dizzy, my lord,” she stammered. “I…” She paused, biting her lower lip. How did he know she had been asleep for a day? Unless…unless he had something to do with why she was here?
Kassandra stifled the twinge of fear in her heart, rising to her feet. “What game are you playing?” she asked, indignation fueling her courage. “Where is Stefan? I demand to know what this is all about.”
Frederick, amused by her pretty show of temper, allowed his thin lips to curve into a smile. Yet it faded as he leaned forward in his chair. “You demand, my lady? You are in no position to demand anything. And as for Count von Furstenberg, he is quite far away. Now, sit down.”
What did he mean, Stefan was far away? Kassandra shuddered, gripped by an icy chill. She sank down upon the bed, her hands falling numbly to her lap.
“I am now responsible for your fate, Kassandra.” He laughed dryly. “I hope you don’t mind my calling you by your given name. We shall be in close quarters for the next few weeks, and I think it best to dispense with…all formalities.” His gaze raked over her. “You may call me Frederick.”
He settled into his chair, deciding to toy with her a little. “You really should thank me, Kassandra. I have spared your life. That is why you are here”—he paused, his hand sweeping about the cabin—“and not at the bottom of a river.”
Kassandra’s eyes narrowed at him, her chin trembling. Spared her life? What had she ever done to him that he would wish to harm her?
“Was it you at the hunting lodge?” she asked in disbelief.
“Yes,” he answered. “The dizziness you complained of will soon pass, an unpleasant complication of the mild drug I used on the cloth.” He raised a blond eyebrow.
“It seems you’ve made some enemies in high places,” he continued cryptically.
“Or should I say, one enemy, although that seems to be quite enough in your case. This enemy wants you dead.”
Kassandra’s thoughts raced. “Wh-what enemy?” she queried shakily. “Who would wish my dea—?” She stopped, blanching, unable to say the word. She swallowed hard. “And why would you—”
“You mustn’t trouble yourself with questions for which there are no answers,” Frederick interrupted soothingly, placing his hand atop hers. “There are some things that must remain a secret.” His fingers caressed hers. “But you needn’t worry. You have nothing further to fear from this enemy.”
Kassandra slowly drew in her breath. Suddenly it was all becoming horribly clear.
If what Frederick was telling her was true, and he had spared her life, then it was for some other dark purpose entirely of his own making. He had already alluded to a journey lasting several weeks, and had said he was now the master of her fate. Yet what fate, she could not begin to imagine.
Kassandra pulled her hand away. “On the contrary, Frederick, I believe I have much to fear,” she objected, grim understanding reflected in her steady gaze.
How strange, she thought fleetingly. She could not believe the calm that had settled over her, despite her obvious peril. “Where are you taking me?” she queried.
Frederick’s eyes widened, startled by her sudden grasp of her situation. He sat back, clearing his throat. “Suffice it to say we are journeying south, far from Vienna.” He rose abruptly. “That is enough talk for now. You need rest, to recover from the shock you have suffered.”
Indeed she does, he considered, noting the dark smudges beneath her eyes. He could not have her looking pale and wan.
“I must apologize for the accommodations. This Croatian fishing vessel was the only transport available on such short notice.” He smiled faintly.
“I believe you will find everything you need in the armoire, even some books to while away the hours. I recall you saying how much you enjoyed reading. If there is anything further you wish, you have only to ask—”
“I wish to return to Vienna,” Kassandra interjected softly.
Frederick stiffened but ignored her comment and walked to the door.
Almost as an afterthought, he turned, his eyes flashing dangerously.
“I must warn you, Kassandra. If you are entertaining any fantasies of escape, you would do well to reconsider. The crew have been well paid for their services, one of which is to guard you well, and will resist all bribes for fear of losing their reward…and possibly their heads, if I am deceived before we reach our destination.”
He began to close the door behind him, pausing to glance once again at her.
“If you anticipate any daring rescue on the part of your…lover,” he stated coldly, “rest assured, my lady, there will be none. He believes you have drowned, and is no doubt, at this moment, mourning your death.” At her stricken expression, he looked away.
“Your midday meal will be brought to you shortly. I hope you like fish stew.” He shut the door with a resounding thud, the key grating in the lock.
Kassandra stared blankly in front of her, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She felt as if she were suffocating in the confines of the small cabin, her sense of restrained calm crumbling in the face of desperate anguish.
“Stefan…” she whispered. No! No! She was not drowned, not dead! She was here! She had to get out. She had to get out!
Kassandra jumped from the bed and hurled herself at the window, her clenched fists beating at the slats.
They held fast. She slipped her fingertips through one of the tiny openings.
Maybe she could pry one loose…and if one, then another!
She could create a space wide enough to slip through and swim to shore.
She yanked and pulled, but again she was defeated.
The openings were too narrow. Damn it all, she simply could not get a firm hold.
She sank helplessly onto the bed, tears of frustration swimming in her eyes.
Soon they tumbled down her face, a tormented flood as wrenching sobs wracked her body.
Yet through it all she kept silent, her hand clasped against her mouth, until finally she threw herself on the bed and buried her cries in the woolen coverlet, one defiant thought burning in her mind.
She would not give that bastard the satisfaction of hearing her grief!
When her tears were spent at last, she rolled onto her back and stared at the planked ceiling, a plan forming in her mind.
She would not give in to despair. She was alive, and that was all that mattered. Somehow she would escape and find her way back to Vienna, and Stefan.
Kassandra’s doubled fists pounded into the bed.
She would make her captivity so difficult for Frederick, he would rue the day he had brought her aboard this wretched boat!