Antek’s face was hard and questioning, yet Anna found his gaze somehow opaque as he surveyed the little group, fastening on her for a split second, then looking to his grandmother.
Nelka glared back at him for long seconds. Then her voice broke the brittle quiet. “The time has come for the evil one to be sent from our midst.” The pursed mouth twitched slightly. She saw at once that her careful plans might be impeded.
Anna looked to Antek, wondering if he had the courage to go against family members. While she sensed that he was not in any way physically attracted to her, she worried whether or not the bond she thought they had formed between them was strong enough for him to come to her aid.
Antek was speaking to his brother now: “You are prepared to do this thing?”
“I am.” Stefan sat on his stallion.
“Why?”
“She is evil. Nelka says—”
“Since when do you believe in the old ways?”
“There may be truth in the old ways. I have not been so brainwashed as you.”
“You know that Nelka’s hatred of the aristocracy is a blind one.”
“And you should not forget your—our—birth, Antek. We will never be accepted as aristocracy, brother. The baron may provide for us, but he is forbidden to pass on his title. His ancestral line dies with him.”
“These are not the real issues here and you know it, Stefan.”
Stefan sat rigid and silent in his saddle.
“Isn’t it true,” Antek continued, “that your reason is a more personal one?”
Anna could sense Stefan tensing at her side.
Antek was unrelenting. “For God’s sake, Stefan, the countess is married and with child. What could your expectations have been?… You would forfeit her life now to salve your pride?… Answer me!”
Suddenly, Nelka screeched, “To the devil with her!”
Anna turned to see the woman raising the poker into the air above her horse’s flank.
“Stop!” Antek shouted.
Nelka raised it still higher and started to bring it down. For Anna these things seemed to slow in time… and she braced herself for the sudden reaction of the horse.
In a flash, however, Antek fell upon Nelka and wrested the instrument from her clawlike grasp, flinging it across the room.
At that moment Stefan leapt from his horse onto his brother and they crashed to the floor.
For a few moments Antek lay stunned, sprawled face down on the straw-strewn floor. Stefan was atop him, forcing his brother’s hands together at the small of his back. “Nelka,” he called, “fetch some rope!”
But before she could even process the command, Antek pulled his arms free. He drew in his knees and bolted upward, disengaging Stefan’s hold.
Stefan was on his feet now, too, and the twins squared off, moving in a slow, witting circle, each doggedly eyeing the other. They moved cautiously close to one another, their arms shooting out then withdrawing, while each searched for the advantage of first contact. Anna suspected that this had been for them a ritual game while growing up. The ferocity in their expressions now, however, indicated that this time it was more than a rite of passage.
As if by design, each gripped the other by the wrists now, their bodies arching backward and starting to revolve, faster and faster. It was like some bizarre Russian dance, Anna thought, a dance of competition.
Nelka and her cronies moved back to give room. Janka closed the large door and then—unobserved by everyone except Anna—she fell back into the shadows and slipped away.
Round and round, the twins continued in a blinding swirl, until the legs of one began to falter slightly. Amazingly, the other—who was it?—was able to increase his speed and take the advantage now. He was soon dragging his brother for several revolutions until, with one final and deliberate thrust, he released him and sent him crashing into one of the stall’s wooden supports.
Upon impact, there was a bone-crushing sound and the beaten brother slid to the floor. The head lay in defeat on his chest, but Anna could distinguish the mole on his cheek.
“Get up!” Stefan commanded. “I’m not finished with you yet.”
Stefan walked over to where Antek lay, dazed but conscious, and kicked him in the ribs. “I said to get up!” He lifted his leg to kick again, but as he swung it forward Antek grasped it, and holding to it, started to rise from the floor.
Stefan’s arms were flailing about as he tried to both strike Antek and keep his balance. Antek was standing now, and with one strong pull on the captive leg, he brought his brother to the floor with a heavy thud. He instantly fell upon him, and they rolled and thrashed in the straw.
Stefan came up perched on Antek’s stomach, his knees pinning down his twin’s arms to the floor. His fists, one then the other, slammed into Antek’s face. Blood began to flow.
Anna was struggling to free her hands. The rope loosened slightly, but she could only watch the scene unfold, unable to do anything, unable to look away.
The battering continued. Finally, Antek was able to topple his twin off to the side. In seconds they were on their feet and face to face, not touching, moving in a slow, calculating circle. The room was silent as a catacomb. Antek was bleeding heavily.
Anna’s bonds were loosening. She suspected that Antek had been reticent to come to hard, fistic blows with his twin and would have preferred wrestling as a means to a settlement. Now, though, his body straightened, signaling a new determination. It was as though he knew that if he didn’t fight on Stefan’s terms he would be beaten.
Stefan thrust his fist toward Antek’s face again. His hand sailed through empty air, though, as Antek shifted swiftly to the side. This afforded Antek the opportunity to seize the offensive, and he propelled his fist into his brother’s middle. Stefan immediately doubled over. At once Antek’s fist crashed into Stefan’s already contorted face, springing his brother once again into an upright position—and yet another that pitched him backward seven or eight paces.
When Stefan pulled himself to his feet, he held the poker in his hand!
Anna’s hands were almost free now and she worked feverishly. She would not be the cause of one brother killing the other.
Nelka and the others didn’t stir; they stared as if hypnotized by the violence. They didn’t notice that Anna’s hands had come free.
Stefan staggered like a drunk toward the alerted Antek, who stood to face him. As Stefan rushed the last few steps, his powerful arm and poker moved through the air in a wide whirring arc.
Anna pulled the rag from her mouth and screamed.
No one paid any attention to her.
Antek proved just agile enough to jump aside, and the poker came down on the rim of a water trough, splintering the wood. Anna’s voice fell silent at the sound.
Before Stefan could lift it again, Antek’s foot came down and wrenched it from his brother’s grasp. Antek caught hold of Stefan by the scruff of the neck now and thrust his head forward and downward into the full water trough.
After some seconds, Stefan’s face bobbed to the surface and he gasped for air. Antek forced him under again. The drowning Stefan struggled awkwardly to lash out behind him, but Antek stood clear of his reach and leaned more heavily upon his bother’s neck and shoulders.
Stefan couldn’t bring his head up again.
Anna suddenly became aware of her own silence. “Stop, Antek!” she called out. “Stop it at once! You’re killing him!” She continued to scream, scarcely aware of what words she used. She had no way to alight from the horse or she would have run over to stop him.
At last, Antek looked back at Anna. “Please Antek,” she said in a calmer but intense voice, “please!”
His eyes widened as rationality seemed to flow once more through his veins. But was it too late?
He pulled his twin from the trough and laid him face down on the floor. Stefan had stopped struggling. Anna was certain he was dead.
A little gurgle, however, then a faint gasp told her otherwise, and she thanked God.
Stefan’s breathing was nearly regular when Witek entered.
“What is happening here?” he boomed. Janka hovered nervously in the shadows behind him. Anna silently blessed the woman for going against Nelka and bringing the clan leader.
Silence.
“Will not one of my sons speak?”
Stefan was picking himself up from the floor, his eyes averting his father’s.
“They meant to banish the Countess Berezowska,” Antek said.
Except for Nelka, the women shrank back.
As Witek came further into the stable, Nelka moved forward to meet him. “She has brought bad luck with her. She must be driven out. See how she pits brother against brother? She has used the devil’s charms to beguile Antek—”
Witek lifted his hand to silence his mother. “Can’t you see, woman? You have set brother against brother. Not the countess. Would it have pleased you if one had killed the other? Get you from me before I forget you have a place in this family—before you shame me further!”
Nelka opened her prune-like mouth to speak, but she thought better of it, shot a last look of hatred at Anna, and whisked from the stable, the other women—except for Yanka—following sheepishly.
Antek helped Anna from the horse.
“You were aiding your grandmother in this?” Witek was asking Stefan.
Stefan voiced no answer.
“Make ready to return to Baron Galki’s at once, Stefan. You are more his son than mine, it seems. But we will talk before you leave.”
Head bowed, Stefan limped from the stable.
“I’m ashamed and very sorry, Countess,” Witek said. “I did not retrieve you from the winter wilderness to submit you to this. Forgive me.”
“You are certainly not to blame, Witek. I will be fine. I’m only grateful for your intervention… and for Antek’s.”
Witek turned to his son. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve become a man.” The simplicity and straightforward-ness of the statement made it all the more poignant. “And you’ve already proven your worth,” he said now to Anna, “as a countess and as a woman. Tomorrow, I think, my son Antek will escort you to Częstochowa, where you should be able to find a way back to Warsaw.”
Anna’s heart raced at the thought. “Oh, thank you,” she said. Later she would wish that she had said so much more to show her appreciation. Witek and his clan had plucked her from certain death in the snow.
“Were you not mending, I should have done so at the first. It seems I placed too much faith in the priest, too. I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
“Witek,” Anna piped, putting her hand on his sleeve.
“Yes, Countess?”
“Don’t be too hard on Stefan.”
He studied her for a moment, then smiled. “When you leave us, Countess, it will be our loss.” He turned to leave, and Janka timidly followed suit.
“Janka,” Anna called softly.
The old woman turned, her face a composite of curiosity and fear.
“Thank you,” Anna whispered. She knew that Nelka would not be quick to forget her friend’s betrayal.
The woman’s oval mouth spread into a thin, toothless smile. She curtsied clumsily and retreated, close upon Witek’s heels.