Chapter 28
Tatyana
The wedding banquet of Tatyana le Tala and Oleg Sokolov was held in the heated tent of the Poshani, hosted by Radu le Basarab, brother of the bride and thus the expected host in Poshani tradition.
And in Kievan Rus tradition, the banquet would be followed by another rigorous chaugan match with probable bloodshed.
“At least this time they’re allowing us to be on the same team.” Tatyana leaned over to Oleg on the slightly raised platform where they were eating and drinking in the center of the tent as musicians played, people danced along the perimeter, and copious amounts of caviar were being served.
“I’m glad your prowess with the mallet will not be turned against your new husband,” Oleg said. “I believe Oksana’s nose is still mending.”
She glanced at Oksana and Ludmila, who were sitting with Kezia and some of Oleg’s druzhina. “It is not. She looks divine.”
Indeed, much of the fun of this wedding banquet was trying to guess from where and when the guests were dressed.
Oksana wore a floor-length black-and-white dress with red embroidery, a wide belt, and a richly decorated shawl and headdress while Ludmila wore a traditional Russian ensemble of dark red sarafan and—while she did not wear a kokoshnik—she had her long hair braided in a crown and a pearl-and-gold net decorated her forehead.
“I have never seen Ludmila wearing a dress,” Oleg said. “Perhaps ever.”
“Love makes you do strange things,” Tatyana said. “She looks magnificent.”
Oleg frowned. “Oksana definitely talked her into this.”
“And how about your brothers?” Tatyana looked to the left of Kezia’s table. “They appear to be having a good time with Radu.”
Indeed, her brother was hosting Truvor’s sons at his personal table. Rudov and Pavel, Ivan, Lazlo, and Lev were all there, and there were five bottles of blood-wine and countless bottles of vodka that all appeared to be empty.
“I’d say it is a good thing that they cannot become intoxicated,” Tatyana said.
“Rudov does love his vodka.”
As the banquet progressed, Tatyana and Oleg remained at the center of the tent as Mika, Sándor, and Rumi guided guests to greet them and exchange congratulations and ever more elaborate wedding gifts.
There was a solid silver tea set and two towering blown glass sculptures. There were bars of solid gold and silver from the less artistic and stacked boxes of blood-wine and caviar on ice. Tatyana was fairly sure she saw at least two Fabergé eggs in glass boxes.
Dear God. The wealth on display was astonishing. Tatyana felt mildly nauseated.
She leaned toward Oleg. “We are donating several million euros to the food bank here in Saint Petersburg.”
Oleg shrugged. “If you would like.”
“I insist.”
Sándor approached with Mika, and they both knelt near Oleg and Tatyana as Rumi stood at her side, guarding their privacy.
“There are rumors circulating that your political marriage is a clever ruse to cover a personal connection,” Mika said. “But no one actually seems bothered by the idea.”
Sándor glanced at Mika and nodded. “At least among the Poshani, the idea that you fell in love over the last month of festivities seems to be quite popular.”
“Oh!” Rumi smiled. “I love that. That’s a wonderful story.”
Mika rolled his eyes. “Poshani are so romantic.”
Sándor narrowed his eyes. “So I suppose I did not see Oleg’s brother Lev wiping tears from his eyes while he was watching the old Poshani couple dancing.”
Oleg muttered, “Lev has always been soft.”
Rumi said, “I would like to meet Lev.”
“In summary, Ivan’s rumors have taken root, but the effect seems to be less concerned with your apparent deception and more enamored with the idea of a romance,” Mika said. “For now.”
Sándor nodded. “Give it time and there could be more whispers about Tatyana’s loyalty.”
She turned to Oleg. “I’m going to absolutely gut you on the next business contract. You’ve been warned.”
He nodded. “I look forward to drawing blood in negotiations.” He glanced at Mika. “Anything else?”
“There is… something.” Mika frowned. “I cannot put my finger on it. I don’t suppose we could skip the chaugan match, could we?
I’m sure Ivan’s feeling very satisfied at the moment.
” He kept his voice to barely more than a whisper.
“Tatyana’s men were killed. He’s spread rumors to distract from the rumors you started about him being out of favor. ”
Oleg said, “The moment my brother feels like his little scheme is turning against him, he will become even more vindictive. I know. But I also know that Ivan does not move quickly. He’ll retaliate, but it will take time.”
“Very well.” Mika was still casting his eyes around the tent as if attackers were hiding in the shadows.
Sándor looked at Mika. “Our Hazar and Governor Lidik’s people have swept the field and the woods for threats,” he said. “We’ve found nothing, but we’ll keep watching.”
“Good,” Tatyana said. “Trust no one. Especially none of Ivan’s men.”
It wasn’t hard to spot Ivan’s loyalists as they trooped out to the chaugan field after the banquet had come to an end.
It was three in the morning, the dead of night, and all of Ivan’s clan were dressed in Truvor’s colors, wearing knee-length red kaftans with fur trim and a gold medallion shaped like a hawk’s head on their collar.
Sokholovs.
Tatyana watched them march through the snow, not unlike an army, from the back of her chaugan horse. All the vampire and human guests were in high spirits as they made their way across Rudov’s estate.
Her newly made riding habit was warm and comfortable, far more than her formal sarafan. The crown of the Kievan Rus was carefully stored and in Rumi’s possession, returning to Oleg’s palace under armed guard, and Tatyana wore a fur headband instead of citrine and pearls.
Mika’s cautious voice echoed in her mind as the massive immortal wedding party caravanned from the Poshani tent, across Rudov’s estate, and toward the playing field where torches were already lit.
There is… something.
She felt it too. There was tension in the air, but it was hard to distinguish tension from excitement. Rudov’s horses stamped and snorted in the frosty night, ready to break from their warming tents and leap onto the field.
Human servants were dragging wide grading rakes across the snowy field, and flags were flying to mark the perimeter.
Breaking tradition, there were fewer obstacles built into the field, allowing Tatyana a better view.
She felt her blood thrill when she caught sight of the nets.
Oleg pulled his mount alongside hers and grinned. “You like it.”
She couldn’t stop her smile. “I do.”
“You need to practice more with the ball, and then you will be a menace on the field like Ludmila and Mika.”
Mika was not playing that night, but Ludmila had taken a horse on the opposite team, wearing the red sash with Pavel and Ivan, Lazlo, Radu, and Radu’s oldest son. Tatyana’s team—wearing blue sashes—consisted of her and Oleg with Rudov, Sándor, Kezia, and Lev rounding out their riders.
Juliya, Rudov’s daughter, wore the white sash of the referee, and she galloped around the perimeter of the field with her father’s green-and-red flag, riling the crowd up, leading war chants, and urging on the drummers until the elemental energy surging in the air was enough to have Tatyana’s fangs falling.
There was a deep stirring in her blood. She wanted to swing an axe. She wanted to smell blood. It was little surprise that Truvor had taught his sons this game when it stirred such martial instincts.
Oleg was pulling on his gloves, eyeing the crowd as he prepared to take to the field.
Tatyana’s gaze kept darting between Ivan and Pavel’s jovial laughter, the Hazar buzzing around the open field, and Sándor’s grim expression as he readied his mount at the far end of the playing line.
The line between sport and outright war had never felt thinner.
She nudged her mount over to Oleg’s. “Am I imagining—”
“No.” His voice was terse.
“What do we do?”
He cocked his head and looked at her; his fangs were also extended. “We play.”
The horses stamped on the sidelines. The red leather pul was waiting in the center of the field. The crowd of humans and vampires roared with anticipation.
Juliya raised her father’s flag, lifted a large silver bell, and rang it.
“Vpered!”