Dmitri took in the whole ugly scene in an instant.
“What in the—!” he exclaimed as he rushed forward. The words barely left his lips as he closed the gap between himself and the interloper, seized him by the shoulders, and threw him off Katrina, who stood paralyzed in terror against the tree.
Basil recovered with uncanny resiliency and leaped upon his unwelcome assailant with the fury of a wild beast. He threw himself against Dmitri, knocking him to the ground on his back.
Basil pursued the assault, and before Dmitri could struggle back to his knees he found himself stung by a rapid series of punishing kicks to his legs and midsection. His hands and forearms flew over his head to ward off blows from Anickin’s boots that might otherwise have left him unconscious or crushed in his face.
Seeing Dmitri helplessly writhing on the ground trying to protect himself brought Katrina back to her senses. How could she have been so blind to Basil’s insanity all this time? Suddenly a maniac was before her, a man she didn’t even know, kicking Dmitri with deliberate cruelty.
She screamed in terror and flew forward, hurling herself against Basil. In vain she tried to grab at his arms and pull him away. But the man’s strength was given added potency by the vehemence of his hatred; Katrina might as well have been an ant trying to stop the attack of an enraged she-bear. But the distraction of a second or two was enough to allow Dmitri to recover himself and spring to his feet.
Basil gave a wicked thrust to get her off him, and Katrina toppled sideways to the ground, screaming. Dmitri’s clenched fist smashed into Basil’s mouth and nose. The blood began immediately to flow. A quick side step by Basil sent Dmitri’s second blow wide into the air, and suddenly the two men squared off facing one another.
“You will pay dearly for this,” said Basil spitefully from between clenched teeth. “You do not realize what you have done!”
“I realize all too clearly what you have done, Anickin,” rejoined Dmitri, moving slowly to one side, keeping his eyes warily fixed on his opponent. “You are no gentleman to treat a lady so shamefully. You are nothing but a—”
If he thought to help matters with such words, Dmitri could not have been more mistaken. Whatever word was about to leave his lips was lost as Basil lunged forward. And despite all his words of warning to Katrina about the man, even Dmitri was not prepared for the ferocity of Basil’s attack. Before he knew it, he found himself stumbling backward, his head ringing and his vision blurred from a lightning-quick fist to his cheekbone. Before he could gather his wits, another blow landed on his neck, followed by still another to his chin. The taste of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth finally cleared his reeling brain. He jumped aside and raised his hands in front of his face, warding off Basil’s next two punches.
Katrina was back on her feet, screaming wildly now for them to stop. She rushed at Basil again. This time he raised his arm against her, and sent the back of his hand against her head, knocking her down again, the side of her upper cheek red and her eyes filling with tears of pain.
“How dare you strike a woman?” cried Dmitri, filled with renewed passion.
He rushed forward, perhaps unwisely, yet two or three of his furious punches found their mark, one squarely across Basil’s left eye. Despite the fact that he was a seasoned war veteran, the young count was no match for the lawyer’s hand-to-hand experience. Incensed all the more by the pain inflicted by Dmitri’s blows, Basil attacked with half a dozen rapid jabs into Dmitri’s ribs and stomach. He was used to having his own way in a fight; the taste of his own blood oozing from his nose and the stars that swam in front of his eyes were new sensations that sent the merciless rebel’s rage to new levels of madness. Even in the midst of her own pain, Katrina saw the murder in his eyes. She struggled to her feet, terrified for Dmitri’s life, and ran from the garden.
As Dmitri doubled over, gasping for breath, Basil came after him in a paroxysm of frenzied hatred, clubbing him viciously on the head. With one last punch Basil sent Dmitri staggering backward and toppling to the ground.
The next instant Basil leaped on top of him. Dmitri, virtually defenseless, struggled to get his hands in front of his face and eyes. He kicked about to try to throw the lawyer from him, but to no avail.
Dmitri swung wildly with his own fists, but none found their mark. His swollen eyes could make out only blurry forms, his ears unable to distinguish between distant cries and yells and Basil’s venomous curses raining down upon him along with the punishing blows. All was a confusion of dust and yells, stinging pain, and the warm taste of blood.
Then Dmitri felt the viselike grip of Basil’s sinewy fingers on his throat. He reached up, groping in vain to free himself from the stranglehold. But the fingers of mad passion steadily tightened, choking off his air. Dmitri gasped frantically, unaware of the sound of voices approaching through the garden.
To Katrina’s horrified cries were now added men’s voices.
“You there!” shouted Peter, the head footman, rushing up along with Moskalev and three or four others. Dmitri felt the fingers being torn from his throat. Loud curses from Basil’s voice filled the air. He felt himself being pulled to his feet by Moskalev’s huge hand. One eye was swollen shut; with the other he saw Anickin a few feet away, restrained by three of the Fedorcenko servants but trembling with murderous wrath.
“Do not think you have been spared, Count Remizov!” he spat with venom. “A man who must be rescued by women and servants is no man at all!”
“It is you who have been spared,” Dmitri answered. “There is no coward so low as he who would strike a defenseless woman.”
“You dare to call me a coward,” Basil jeered, “after the thrashing I just gave you?”
“You could take my life, Anickin, and you would still be the lowest form of coward alive. Yes, I say it to your face—you are a despicable coward!”
“You are a spineless swine! You have courage to speak so to me when I am restrained in this manner. But tell these men to let me go, and then see if you are so brave as to repeat those words to my face!”
“You could whip me lifeless, and it would change nothing in your coward’s heart. I know what manner of man you are, and it is no man at all!”
“You have said it, Remizov,” said Basil, now with sudden icy calm that belied his previous passion. “Let your own words condemn you. The time will come when I will take your life.”
“Take him away,” Dmitri said to the servants, ignoring the threat.
“Shall we call a gendarme, Your Excellency?” asked Peter.
“Do you hear him, Anickin?” said Dmitri. “I could have you arrested. And considering your past record, it would not go well with you. This young lady’s father is a man of importance in this city. More than that, she happens to be the lady I love. Show your face around here again, and I will do exactly what Peter suggests.”
“And you think I am frightened by your paltry threats?”
“I frankly do not care. I merely feel it is my duty to inform you what I will do if you bother this young lady with your presence again. She is mine now, and I will protect her, especially against the likes of you.”
“I will kill you, Remizov. Do you hear me?”
Dmitri gave Peter a wave of his hand, then turned toward Katrina, offering the lawyer no further reply.
Peter and the footmen led Anickin away, while Dmitri went to Katrina. Weak from shock, exhaustion, and pain from the blows she had taken, she sat on a nearby bench, weeping.
Before he could speak, she was on her feet rushing toward him.
“Oh, Dmitri, your face is scraped and bleeding!” she cried. “And one eye is so puffy I can hardly see it!”
“I will recover,” said Dmitri, trying to smile lightheartedly.
“But he has hurt you so!”
“I am a soldier. Pain is my profession, remember?”
“Oh, Dmitri!” She reached out and touched his bruised face with a tender hand.
One of the house maids had come to the garden on the heels of the footmen. Dmitri saw her at the same time that he noted Katrina’s deathly pale complexion.
“Take her to her room,” he said to the maid, who stood in silent bewilderment over the events she had just witnessed.
Dmitri walked toward her, Katrina’s hand in his. He handed her over to the maid. “See to it that she rests for an hour, and has some hot tea,” he added to the girl. Then he bent over and kissed Katrina’s forehead. “Now be off with you both. I will call again in the morning.”