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  She turned to witness the Prince click his fingers at an unfamiliar man who stood with him holding a horse.

  “Follow that gypsy woman and bring her back,” he ordered. “You, Gezim, wait here for his return. I need you to show him and his prisoner the way to the private cells. You understand?”

  Gezim inclined her head, as the man dug his heels into the flanks of his horse and set off in pursuit of Lulé.

  The Prince extended his hand to Ariana.

  “Come, madam,” he said coldly.

  Ariana moved numbly towards him. What were the ‘private cells’ he had mentioned? And what did he hope to discover from Lulé that he did not think he could find out from his fiancée?

  Could Lulé escape from her pursuer? And what was the identity of her pursuer?

  The Prince gripped Ariana’s wrist tightly and led her away. She managed to cast a contemptuous look at Gezim as she passed, but the maid appeared impassive.

  Bujar was waiting at the door of The Castle. She said nothing as the Prince and Ariana entered, but closed the door firmly behind them and drew the bolt.

  Ariana stumbled to keep pace with the Prince as he strode up the stairs.

  “You would do well to beat her!” Bujar called out from the hall behind them.

  “Hold your tongue, woman,” the Prince sot back.

  Ariana was amazed that he said nothing more. No housekeeper in her uncle’s employ would have ever dared to intervene in a matter such as this.

  At the same time her heart quailed at the thought that she might be beaten. Her uncle might have been cold, but he had never raised a hand to her in her life.

  The Prince did not take Ariana to her room, but to his own. With his free hand he flung open the door and forced her through.

  She clasped her now swollen wrist to her and stared around.

  The room was vast and lavishly furnished with gold lacquer chests and embroidered hangings on a huge carved four-poster bed.

  She noticed a gleaming scimitar affixed above the fireplace and shuddered to think what work it might have done in its time.

  A servant, one whom she had not seen before, rose from where he was tending a roaring fire and bowed to his Master. The Prince dismissed him.

  As soon as the servant, eyes lowered, had left the room, the Prince rounded on Ariana.

  “Now, madam,” he hissed through his gritted teeth. “The truth.”

  “T-truth?” repeated Ariana. “About what, sir?”

  The Prince scowled.

  “For one thing, the identity of that gypsy woman.”

  “I – don’t know, sir.”

  “Really?” the Prince scoffed. “Is it usual, then, for you to consort with gypsies you do not know?”

  “C-consort?”

  “Come, come, madam. You obviously arranged the meeting tonight when you visited that woman in her booth at the Fair. You knew her already. But what reason do you have for such deception?”

  Ariana raised despairing eyes to the Prince.

  “Believe me, sir, I encountered the woman entirely by chance this evening. I simply went out for some air.”

  “And there she was?” sneered the Prince.

  He regarded her, his jaw working.

  “Very well. Let’s move on for the moment to the story of how you came to be abandoned in Skhroder.”

  Ariana froze. What could he have discovered about her story that made him of a sudden demand that she retell it?

  “I h-have told you what happened,” she said in a low voice.

  “Indeed? Well, you told me that you stayed at an inn in Skhroder. Is that correct?”

  Ariana’s tongue felt dry in her mouth and she could only nod in reply.

  “Now that is strange,” said the Prince, “because the main inn at Skhroder burned down in January. I knew this, which is why I asked if you remembered the name of the inn you stayed at. You see, madam, I gave you, how do you say, the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps there is another inn that I had not heard of.”

  Ariana stared at him in confusion. Was the Prince telling the truth?

  “Obviously – there is – ” she murmured uneasily.

  The Prince continued, a taunting curl to his lip.

  “When you woke up in the morning at this other inn, since the main one did not by then exist, you found that your maid and my coachman had disappeared together. Is that what you said?”

  Ariana nodded.

  “And they took everything of yours with them?”

  “Y-yes,” she whispered.

  “They took your luggage, your clothes, your vanity case, your purse and every penny you had?”

  Ariana lowered her head, wondering where the real blow behind all this lay.

  “Y-yes.”

  The Prince gave a sudden snarl.

  “Then tell me, madam, how was it that you had the money to buy yourself a horse? Because you did say you bought a horse, did you not?”

  Ariana lifted her head.

  “Yes, I did say that.”

  “You certainly arrived on one, though your clothes were the worse for wear, it is true. So let me ask you again. How did you obtain a horse to carry you here to Dukka?”

  Ariana thought quickly. Perhaps she could account for the money and her visit to the gypsy at the Fair with one and the same breath. A lying breath, it was true.

  But, she thought, with an inward bitter laugh, lying had become a means of survival here at the Prince’s Castle.

  “The gypsy woman helped me,” she said. “She was – she found me wandering the streets in Shkroder and took pity on me. She lent me money – to buy the horse. That is why I went to her booth as soon as I saw it at Glinica to discuss a way of repaying her what I owed, though she had previously said that she would find me in her own time to collect it. That is probably why she came here tonight – although I had not expected her,” Ariana added quickly.

  The Prince was listening to her through narrowed and suspicious eyes.

  “And why did you not tell me this at the beginning? And why keep this gypsy woman’s most uncharacteristic generosity a secret?”

  Ariana, at the end of her powers of imagination, gave the only answer she could think of.

  “Because she asked me not to.”

  “Ha!” The Prince gave a triumphant expostulation. “Did she know, then, where you were bound when she lent you the money?”

  Ariana hastily reviewed in her mind the story she had so far told, remembering that she reported the gypsy woman as promising to ‘find me in her own time to collect what was owed her’. Well, she certainly could not collect it if she did not know where Ariana was!

  “Y-yes,” she said slowly. “I told her that I was travelling to Castle Dukka.”

  The Prince thumped his fist against the wall.

  “You little fool! That is exactly why she lent you the money.”

  Ariana stared at him in genuine bewilderment.

  “I don’t understand.”

  The Prince crossed to her quickly and brought his face close to hers.

  “I suspect she is a Nationalist. Or connected to the Nationalists. And they are my enemies. Or, to put it the other way round, I am theirs. Of course this woman does not want me to know that she is in contact with you. You are probably her way into Castle Dukka, if not literally then metaphorically. Through you she can discover what she wishes to know about its layout, its strengths and its weaknesses. And then, my precious, you will wake one morning to find me murdered at your side and The Castle under Nationalist control.”

  Ariana gasped and Prince Stefan bared his teeth in a grim smile.

  “I have frightened you, have I? Well then, let me frighten you a little more. Look at what I have here.”

  The Prince drew a rope of pearls from beneath his waistcoat, dangled it an instant in the air and then threw it beyond Ariana and onto the bed.

  She spun round to stare at it, her pulse racing.

  “Yes, my dear,” said the Prince from behind
her. “I think you recognise them. They are the pearls I sent to you in London. The pearls my coachman and your maid stole from you.”

  “W-where did you find them?” she asked, dreading the answer.

  “My coachman was arrested in a pawnbrokers in Glinica. He is being held at a prison there until I send for him. The news was brought to me tonight by an agent of mine along with the pearls.”

  Heart sinking, she thought of the man on horseback who had been sent off in pursuit of Lulé. So he had come from Glinica!

  “And by the way,” the Prince added in a sarcastic tone, “the coachman was alone. Your maid was not with him. But I will soon discover exactly what happened.”

  Ariana turned her eyes from his piercing gaze.

  Yes, he would indeed soon hear exactly what had happened and just how she would then be able to protect Lorenc and Bonnie and the brigands she did not know.

  “Madam!”

  The Prince’s tone forced her to look round.

  “I have another question. Who is Lorenc?”

  Her head swung up. So Gezim had heard her cry and Lulé’s echo! But it was not a name Stefan recognised, which was a relief.

  “A f-friend I had in London. Someone I m-miss.”

  The Prince’s eyebrows met, while his lips quivered with suppressed rage.

  “You dare to insult my intelligence! I believe this Lorenc is a gypsy, an outlaw, just like that woman you are protecting. You are lying to me. And do you know how I chastise liars?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he caught hold of Ariana and flung her onto the bed.

  Before she could recover from the shock, she saw the Prince reach for a whip that hung on the wall.

  He let the leather strip run through his fingers and then gave a sudden lash at the air. The crack made Ariana flinch in terror.

  The next moment she gave a loud cry as the lash snapped across her breastbone where it was exposed above the low russet bodice.

  Looking down she saw a red welt rise immediately on her flesh and tears of pain and anger welled in her eyes.

  “You – you are a brute!” she cried in fury.

  “You will discover,” replied the Prince ominously, “just how much of a brute I am!”

  He made to lash out again, but his arm was stilled mid-air.

  His room was at the front of The Castle and a great pounding was suddenly heard at the door below.

  Each blow seemed to land upon the Prince’s own body, for he started and doubled over as his face drained of blood.

  In an instant Ariana understood.

  This was not his agent returned with Lulé, as he had ordered them to be taken discreetly to his cells.

  No, the Prince was convinced that his enemies were at The Castle door and about to make an attack upon his person!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The pounding ceased.

  The Prince straightened and moved as if in a trance to the door.

  He opened it and stood there listening. Ariana sat up on the bed, a hand to her stinging breast.

  She could not believe what had just happened to her, until words of Lorenc came into her mind – “you will discover his nature before long.”

  What she had discovered was that, of the two men, Prince Stefan was the true beast and not Lorenc!

  Steps were now heard hurrying along the corridor towards the Prince’s bedroom.

  Prince Stefan stepped to the fireplace and laid his hand on the handle of the scimitar on the wall, as if ready to snatch it down.

  Bujar arrived breathless at the open door. Before the Prince could question her, she spoke.

  “Something terrible has happened, Sire.”

  The Prince stiffened.

  “Gezim – we think she’s been murdered.”

  Ariana was shocked, but not so shocked that she did not notice the look of relief that crossed the Prince’s features as his hand fell from the scimitar. He was not to be murdered after all!

  “You may be seated, Bujar,” he said calmly. “Tell me what you have heard.”

  Bujar moved to a chair and sank down gratefully.

  “That was your agent, Fetor, at the door, Sire. He returned to the clearing, but Gezim was not there. He saw shoes in the grass and a scarf beyond them. He followed a trail of clothes to the river and there he saw a chemise in the water. And he brought them here. They are – Gezim’s, Sire. I recognise them.”

  Listening, Ariana blenched. She had often wished to be rid of Gezim, but never, never in such a way!

  “Fetor did not apprehend the gypsy?” he asked.

  “No, Sire, she escaped.”

  Ariana breathed an inward sigh of relief while the Prince gave a bitter laugh.

  “And then slipped back by another route to wreak revenge. She knew Gezim led me to her in the clearing.”

  “Perhaps,” Bujar agreed. “But there was no body found, Sire. It is not impossible that Gezim ran away.”

  “She was treated well here, why would she?”

  Bujar shrugged.

  “Perhaps she has sympathies we are unaware of.”

  “You mean the Nationalists? I hardly think so. She had enough opportunities to flee to them before this. No, I believe she is dead. But to be sure, I will send out a search party. Let them take torches and go along the river bank as far as to where it flows into the lake.”

  Bujar rose.

  “Certainly, Sire. But I am sure you wish to speak to Fetor yourself. He is still below awaiting instructions.”

  “Good. I will see him.”

  The Prince moved to the door. Bujar stood aside as he passed through and then followed him out. She left the door open behind her.

  Ariana was alone, seemingly forgotten. She waited a moment listening to them walk away along the corridor and then she slid her feet onto the floor. She had to rest a hand on one of the bedposts to steady herself as she stood.

  She encountered no one as she made her way back to her room. Once there she locked the door. She had no idea of what the Prince would do after his interview with the agent, Fetor.

  But she was determined that one thing he would not do was visit her in her room.

  Her hands were shaking so much it took her a while to take off her dress, but at last the gown was at her feet. She stepped out of it and stumbled to her bed.

  There she fell into an uneasy sleep.

  *

  Sometime towards dawn she heard a soft rattle at the door, but the sound did not entirely wake her.

  When she did wake up, it was a moment or two before the horrors of the night invaded her consciousness.

  Rising, she went over to the mirror and stared in dismay at the red welt on her breastbone. To this low had come her fantasy of life as consort of a Prince. The truth was, Stefan had all the trappings of a Prince, but nothing of a noble nature.

  It was Lorenc, wild and free, who was the nobler of the two. But who was he really?

  There was a discreet knock at the door and Bujar’s voice called her name and Ariana went to the door.

  “Are you alone?” she asked apprehensively.

  “Yes. Who did you expect to be with me? Gezim?”

  Ariana quickly pulled on a robe and unlocked the door as Bujar came in frowning.

  “Now you lock your door against us?”

  “Since there was trouble at The Castle last night and talk of – murder, I was a little afraid.”

  Bujar seemed to take this at face value and, moving to pick up the gown where Ariana had thrown it the night before, spoke over her shoulder,

  “Prince Stefan has ordered that we hire you a new lady’s maid. We have no one suitable to replace Gezim.”

  “And w-where is – Prince S-Stefan this morning?” Ariana asked, hoping her tone did not reveal the loathing she felt at the sound of her fiancé’s name.

  Bujar glanced at her with a gleam of malice before replying,

  “He has gone to Glinica to interrogate the arrested coachman. He is determined to get to the b
ottom of this story of yours.”

  “Oh?” murmured Ariana with apparent unconcern, although inwardly she trembled at the thought of what the Prince would learn.

  And what was she to do when he returned with the information that she and Bonnie had in fact been abducted under the coachman’s nose? And by the very brigands the Prince considered his sworn enemies led by one Lorenc – a name he already associated with ‘a gypsy and an outlaw’?

  The Prince might know this Lorenc to be the King of the Brigands, but he clearly did not know how closely this ‘King’ resembled himself.

  Ariana sighed deeply. If only she could find Lulé and warn her of what had happened.

  She had a sudden thought. Maybe the gypsies were at Glinica on other days besides Fair days. It would be a big risk to go there at the same time as the Prince, but she knew that he did not like to be seen in public and would be unlikely to wander about the streets.

  “Do you suppose I might have the smaller carriage today?” Ariana asked Bujar.

  “The Prince has ordered that you don’t set foot out of The Castle without a chaperone. And now I must spend the day interviewing prospective lady’s maids for you. We have sent word of the vacant post to the nearby village and expect an immediate response.”

  She slammed the door of the wardrobe hard and went to the door and then turned to say,

  “I will have breakfast sent up. You may take your other meals where you will. Prince Stefan is not expected back for at least two days.”

  Two days! Ariana let out a soft breath as Bujar went out. It was a blow not to be able to go to Glinica today, but a boon to have two days without the Prince’s baleful shadow over her!

  Then her face fell as she remembered that she could not go anywhere unless Bujar agreed to accompany her.

  She decided to spend the morning writing to her uncle. It would be her one letter of the year.

  But she found that her pen merely hovered above the sheet of writing paper, dripping ink onto its surface.

  At last she laid the pen down with a sigh. She had nothing to say to Uncle Konstantin, nothing that he would understand.

  At midday she went down to the dining hall and took her place at the head of the refectory table.

  She stared desolately down its length. All she had for company was a silver soup tureen, a porcelain bowl, a crystal flagon and a glass.