«Yes!» gasped Maria after some nervous consideration. Putting on her haughtiest manner, she called sternly, «Guard!» and smiled to herself as the door opened and a weatherworn male lace peered in.
«Lady?»
«Guard, my sister and I came here so—so abruptly that we had no chance to bring with us any of the necessities of life.»
«All will be provided, lady.»
«All will not be provided! We left behind our jewel case, the gems left to us by our mother.»
«I'm sorry, lady.» His face was unmoved. «But I don't see what can be done about it. You must stay here.»
«Yes, yes, I know that. I only meant…» Maria let her voice trail off pathetically, thinking wryly to herself that Lissa really was better at this sort of thing. She let tears well in her eyes—which wasn't difficult just then— and pleaded softly, «Can't you help us? There—there's a servant at home, Sasha. He knows where everything is. Can't you get word to him? If he brings us the—the small red lacquer case, yes, and—and the blue and yellow clothes chest… that's all we need… Can't you have him bring that to us? It‑it's not so much, not really…»
The tears weren't feigned at all by this point. Maria, past the point of speech, let herself go and simply sobbed. The guard stirred, uneasy and embarrassed.
«Uh… lady. Lady, please. Don't… uh… don't cry. We'll get a message to this Sasha, you'll see.»
Maria managed a watery smile. «Th—thank you.»
But as soon as the guard was gone and the door closed, she nearly choked herself, mixing tears and helpless gusts of giggles till she thought she'd be sick. Oh God, oh God, he'd believed her! Now if only Sasha understood what she wanted. If only he'd remained loyal!
He had.
«I… wasn't really sure this was what you wanted, mistress. I mean, a chest of the kitchen staff's clothes — "
«Hush, hush, this is exactly what I wanted! And the lacquer box of herbs, too? Good.» Maria froze. «Were the boxes searched?»
Sasha grinned. «Oh, they opened them, all right. Figured they would. So I put one of your pretty caftans on top of the kitchen stuff, and your mother's gems on top of the herbs. They palmed a couple of trinkets, payment and all like that, but they never questioned me.»
«Sasha, you're a wonder!»
As he reddened, pleased, Maria hastily dropped some of the herbs into a bottle of mead the prince had oh-so-graciously granted the sisters. Sasha's grin widened.
«That's the herbs you use to make sick folks sleep! Want me to be the good host to the guard outside, eh?»
«You really are a wonder! Yes, go ahead!» Maria was busily shaking her sister. «Lissa, love, wake up! Come, wake up! Get into these clothes. Yes, I know they're ugly—never mind that! Hurry! We're going to get Father out of prison!»
They made an awkward trio, Sasha hotly embarrassed at having his arms about two young noblewomen, Lissa wild-eyed and shrinking from his touch, Maria terrified that her sister would faint or scream or somehow manage to give them away. But nothing terrible happened, no one stopped them or even looked closely at them, these three who were plainly kitchen servants of the lowest order staggering drunkenly along the prison corridors, making the guards who saw them laugh; the good Lord knew there was little enough to laugh at down here.
Of course boyar Danilo wasn't being held in some plain, verminous cell. He was being allowed a certain amount of comfort, a room to himself as it were, and light, and clean bedding. There were only two guards at his door. Why waste more? He wasn't going anywhere!
«Wanna see him!» whined Maria. «Wanna see the mighty lord!»
The guards grinned at each other. «Give us a kiss, then, love," said one.
Lissa cringed. Before she could say something that would give them away, Maria hastily waggled a hand in denial. «No, no, got something better'n that, see?»
She held up the bottle of mead.
«Swiped from the royal cellars, eh?» said a guard. «We could have you reported for that, you know.»
«And waste the mead?» The other guard laughed. «Not a chance! Go ahead, wench. Look at the fine boyar all you want.»
Maria stood on tiptoe, peering through the narrow win‑dow at her father, aching to see how sad and hopeless he sat, longing to call to him, all the time waiting, heart pounding, for the sounds that would say the drugged mead had had its effect… What if they didn't drink enough? What if they realized something was odd about the taste of it and refused to drink it at all? She doubted she and Lissa and Sasha could silence two trained guards, not without noise. And to actually kill someone…
But just then she heard a soft thud, a sigh, a snore. Maria breathed a quick prayer of thanks, then dropped to the side of one of the slumbering guards, carefully withdrawing the precious keys. Her hands were shaking so much she had to fumble with the lock, and there seemed an impossible number of keys to be tried. . other guards came checking? What if— There!
Her father looked up with a start as the door creaked open. As he recognized Maria, his eyes widened in astonishment. But Danilo was too well schooled in the various shocks of diplomacy to do anything but silently rush out of the cell, enfolding his daughters in a quick, fierce hug. Sasha, meanwhile, had been slipping out of the kitchen disguise he'd been wearing over his own clothes. Maria asked him in a hurried whisper, «You'll be all right?»
«Of course, mistress. I'm supposed to be in the palace, remember. No one's going to be suspicious if they see me leaving, not so long as I'm leaving by myself.»
Danilo had been coolly donning the discarded rags. «Yes, but I doubt you've got permission to be down in the prison area. If anyone sees you leaving here, they're going to be sure you were aiding, and abetting the… traitor. Be careful!»
«Yes, my lord. But you… ?»
Danilo glanced at his daughter and gave a quick grin. «They saw three kitchen scullions enter, they're going to see three scullions leave. No one's going to care about us, not if we go out through the kitchen.»
«Sasha," added Maria, «God be with you.»
«And with you, mistresses, master.»
«Indeed," muttered Danilo. «Come, hurry!»
They made it into the vast royal kitchen with so little trouble that, perversely, Maria felt almost disappointed, as though all the tension had been for nothing. Don't be a fool, she told herself sharply. You aren't safe yet. Surrounded by the bustle and noise and varied cooking smells, she bit her lip, wondering now just how long those sleeping guards were going to remain asleep. How long before someone came to check up on them? How long before an alarm was sounded?
It was too much for Vasilissa. Trembling, she sank to a bench, moaning, «I can't go on! I can't!»
«Oh, Lissa!» Maria fought down a sudden hot urge to slap her sister. That wouldn't help anything. Instead, she bent to catch Lissa by the shoulders, whispering desperately, «Lissa, please! We don't have time for this now!»
To her horror, she realized they'd attracted the attention of one of the kitchen sluts. «She sick?»
Maria forced a grin. «Just… you know… woman troubles.»
With a shrug, the slut turned away, and Maria bent to her sister again. «Do you want Father to die? Well? Do you?»
«Of—of course not.» Tears welled up in the beautiful, vague eyes, and Maria ignored her surge of pity and pulled her sniffing sister to her feet.
«Then come on!» she hissed.
Danilo, meanwhile, had casually strolled to a pile of refuse-filled sacks. With a slight gesture to his daughters, he flung one of the sacks over his shoulder with the self‑confident air of someone doing a familiar job. No one objected. Of course, thought Maria, and she hurried to follow her father's lead. «Come on, Lissa!»