Baron Iglacias Rostov spurred the big black horse unmercifully up the steep, winding, narrow road to Falcon’s Aerie and through the courtyard archway, then reined him to a halt beside the door into the isolated manor. The stallion panted smoky breath in the torch light of the courtyard; foamy sweat sparkled on his sides. A footman came running out. The Baron handed Tina down to the footman as he dismounted. She struggled dramatically in the footman’s arms until he whipped out a large, ugly-looking knife and brandished it toward her throat. The Baron appeared to ignore them.
As the wizard slowly removed his riding gloves, he turned and looked around the courtyard, enjoying a moment of nostalgia. “Oh Heaven, how I love this place!”
He looked back at Tina, moved closer, and slid his hand firmly under the girl’s chin, lifting her face so he could study it in the torch light. It was marred by the tear streaks running from her eyes and the gag that had seated deeply in her mouth, pulling her lips around it.
“She looks like a chipmunk, doesn’t she?” Tina could say nothing to this playful comment.
The Baron’s mood changed suddenly. “Franjo,” he said sternly to the footman, “this is our last one.”
“Our lasst?” hissed Franjo.
“Our last. I was spotted leaving Falcon’s Rest. The villagers will be here soon, possibly in two hours. You can take Black Fury here for your escape.
“I’m afraid I rode him hard coming up, and he’ll go lame on you if you don’t walk him down right now, even before you water and feed him.
“And Franjo, when you go, take our secret cache as well.”
Franjo gasped, then nodded slowly. Taking the cache meant the lord was deadly serious about abandoning the last of the Rostov ancestral holdings. Times were changing, indeed.
Jauntily, the Baron clapped Franjo’s shoulder. “Meanwhile I’ll take care of the young miss.” He reached out and pulled her to him by the hair. The footman let her go reluctantly. “Hop to it, man! Care for your horse! Get your things and vanish! Don’t go near the village again or they’ll string you up for sure.”
“Yess, masster,” Franjo answered. “You’ll be all right yoursself?”
“I will. I appreciate your concern. We’ve worked together for ten years, Franjo, and you’ve been a good and faithful servant. But this is the end that I’ve discussed with you before. Goodbye and good luck.”
The two men shook hands across Tina’s body, staring at each other. Love, hate, gratitude, and distrust—he was no Grigor, but he did what he was told and did not ask questions. Now their relationship was over.
Finally the Baron smiled a soft smile and said gently, “Hurry now.”
Franjo took the horse and led it toward the stables. The Baron took the girl and led her into the manor, locking the door behind them.