Page 77 of Inconvenient Honor
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 whohad 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.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Hard wood cut into Richard’s back when he came to. He could not feel his hands, bound as they were behind some sort of post. He had no idea where he was or how long he had been there. His keepers had left him tied and gagged in a dim space that smelled of fish and bilge water. They had left his smallclothes, but they were little protection from the cold.
Gratitude for the looseness of his gag didn’t outweigh his other discomforts. No pain came close to fear for Lily. What did they do to her?
Frantic attempts to pull at his bindings resulted only in greater shoulder pain and a banged head.
Where the hell am I and how long have I been here? An hour? Four perhaps? Lily, dear God where are you?
Something soft and clawed ran over his lap and scuffled to the left.I have company in this hell, four footed, and cunning.He fought back nausea, bent his knees, and slid his feet close to his body.How long before they gnaw at my toes?
An inhuman moan emanated from the gloom to the left. No rat that. Richard stared into the shadows, allowing his eyes to adjust. Not so inhuman. Black eyes glared back at him; Volkov slumped against a similar post ten feet away, face bloodied and swollen. His eyes glowed, though. Hatred glowed in those eyes like red coals. While Richard watched, blood dripped down Volkov’s face, across his bare chest and onto the rough loin cloth that was his only clothing. Do rats smell blood? I hope he keeps them busy so they don’t come for me.
He knew from the bobbing—and the horrific smell—that they had been carried to a ship. He sensed movement; they were under sail. The ship moved slowly which meant they had not yet reached the open sea. By now they may have cleared the city and crossed the Sea of Marmia that lay below Constantinople. He suspected they were passing through the Dardenelles to the Mediterranean. Escape from a ship should be easy in that narrow passage. Hadn’t Byron famously swum across?
