The passage in which they were walking opened out into a large room. It was furnished with several handsome chests and tables, elaborately carved, wooden chairs with slung leather seats, and bare wooden stools. A number of icons, elaborately framed in jewel-studded gold, spoke of the household’s being at least nominally Christian. As well as the plaster paintings, there were handsome Persian and Chinese carpets hung on the walls for decoration, and woven, patterned rugs on the floor. At one end of the room, on a slightly raised dais, there was a heap of sheepskins, some of them dyed, and brightly coloured cushions decorated with knotted fringes, beads and discs, and it was towards this that Akim Shan walked. He turned, spread his hands again in a welcoming gesture, and folded himself gracefully to recline in the soft depths of the heap.
‘My humble house,’ he said. He gestured to the chairs. ‘Please, be comfortable. English Lady, you will sit beside me, as my guest of honour.’
There were many things Anne would have preferred, but again she saw that it was inevitable, and took her place beside him, doing her best to sink gracefully as he had, though her clothes were not designed for it as his were. The prickly, caged-animal smell rose from the cushions as she sat, and was all around her, emanating, she felt, from the Prince himself. She didn’t like to be so near him, especially as she could not now look at him without turning her head, which was too deliberate an act, calling attention to itself; and she very much wanted to keep him in sight.
The others took seats, and servants came in with jugs and cups and bowls of fruit and sweetmeats, and disposed them about the guests on little tables. The Prince himself poured a cup of wine for Anne, and held it out to her, with a courtly bow. She accepted, looked briefly at the others, and drank. There was absolutely no point in wondering whether it were poisoned or not. If he wanted to kill them, he would do it, and there was nothing they could do to stop him. On the other hand, there was everything to be gained by being bold. She drank deep, lowered the cup, and smiled at the Prince.
‘Thank you, sir. An excellent wine.’
He looked as if he had known everything that had just gone through her head. ‘From the Black Sea,’ he said. ‘The wines from there grow sweet and heavy with age, like a lovely woman; but when they are young, they are vigorous and not always to be trusted. Also like a lovely woman.’
Anne laughed dutifully, and the men smiled uneasily and sipped. Akim Shan looked from one to another, evidently enjoying the situation and his power over it. He plied them with sweetmeats and trivial talk, and seemed particularly to enjoy Sergei’s discomfiture, though Anne did her best to draw attention away from him. Then at last the Prince seemed to tire of the game. He straightened up perceptibly, and fixed Feodor with an eye as hard and bright as polished jet.
‘So, you have come to ask for my help,’ he said abruptly. ‘There is something you seek – some knowledge, perhaps?’
Feodor met his gaze. ‘If you know that much, Akim Shan, then you must know what it is we seek.’
‘I know what it is you seek,’ he said, matching Feodor’s inflection so exactly that it was neither question nor statement. ‘You came last night to Vladikavkaz asking where you might find me. Yes, I knew that – I was told you had arrived. I knew also, long before, that you had left Chastnaya of the Horses. Between Eborus and Petrovsk, nothing moves that I do not know about.’
‘If that is true, sir,’ Anne said quickly, ‘then you must know something of the whereabouts of the child.’
He looked at her, and his eyes were unfathomable; and then he turned away and said, ‘The gifts you brought with you – shall I have them carried in? It would amuse me to see them.’
‘Sir–’ Sergei began angrily, but Dmitri kicked him sharply to silence.
‘They are small things, sir,’ Feodor said. ‘Mere trifles, to signify the common trust and friendship between gentlemen.’
Akim Shan looked amused. ‘Gentlemen,’ he mused, and then he chuckled. ‘And yet, I might have you all cut into little pieces, there where you sit, just to amuse myself. I need only give the order. Are you not afraid?’
Anne answered. ‘You have tasted our hospitality at Chastnaya,’ she said, trying to sound offhand, as Feodor had. ‘You have bought horses of the Kiriakov herd. Therefore no Kiriakov – and no friend of Kiriakov – can be afraid in your house.’ He looked at her, and she made herself continue. ‘In particular, you treated my mare, and made her well again, and I am in your debt. It would be impossible, would it not, to kill one who owes you so much – and means to owe you more?’
The Prince stared a moment longer, and then burst into wild laughter. ‘English Lady, you are very clever! You have the wisdom of more than your years! For your sake I will listen to your request, and consider whether I may be able to help you.’ He turned his attention then to Feodor, who gave the history of the loss of Natasha as concisely as possible. Akim Shan asked one or two questions, and then sank into a thoughtful silence, which went on so long they all began to feel restless and nervous again. At last he roused himself and said, ‘I tell you at once, I do not know where the child is.’ Sergei drew a breath of mingled disappointment and anger, but the Prince went on almost without a pause, ‘Yet I have ways of finding out what I wish to know. If the knowledge exists, I shall obtain it. By this hour tomorrow, I shall have information for you.’
‘We are most grateful,’ Feodor began, and the Prince cut him short.
‘It may not be the information you desire.’
‘Nevertheless, we are grateful,’ Feodor insisted. ‘To know is better than not to know.
The Prince bared his teeth. ‘You may have cause to change that opinion. But I do not perform this task for your gratitude, but for the sake of the English Lady who is in my debt, and wishes to be more so.’ He turned the grin on Anne, and she felt a sinking sensation as she wondered what was going to be asked of her. She had been prepared to give up Quassy – but what if she herself were the price? He had wanted to marry her – what if he insisted on that in exchange for the information about Nasha? Could she bear it? She knew she could not – yet what if that were the only way?
She forced herself to meet his eyes, though her flesh felt as though it were shrinking on her bones in the effort to be further from him. Something was about to be asked of her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the stirring amongst the men as they, too, wondered what the Prince was going to say; and in the Prince’s eyes, she read his perfect knowledge of everything that was happening, and his enjoyment of it.
‘The price, English Lady – do you not wish to know the price?’ Through the pounding of her own blood in her ears, Anne heard Sergei growl; she heard herself ask faintly, ‘The price, sir?’
‘The price for my services,’ the Prince said, with patient enjoyment. ‘Everything has its price. So life must have taught you, English Lady. Yes, I see it in your eyes – your eyes which do not flinch to look into mine.’
They did, but she controlled them as best she could. ‘Well, then, sir – the price. What is it?’
His smile became infinitesimally more gentle, and yet it was not reassuring. It was the tenderness with which a great cat licks the piece of meat it is about to devour.
‘The price,’ he said slowly, ‘is that you remain here until tomorrow as my guests – all of you.’ Anne stared, feeling as though she had braced herself against something which had suddenly given way. ‘I shall entertain you, and give you a dinner such as you have never eaten before and will never eat again, and you shall be ever deeper in my debt. And tomorrow morning, I will have the information for you. Is it agreed?’