Citadels of Fire

  ***

  Two months later, Nikolai jogged through the corridors of the Terem Palace. Until a few days ago, neither he nor Taras had come up with any new leads. Then, days ago, a man who owned a filthy tavern in the underbelly of the city contacted him. The kitchen maid, Liliya, who'd been on duty at the palace that day, was alive and Nikolai would be able to talk to her.

  Nikolai had been excited to finally give Taras some good news that he’d hardly slept. Then, first thing this morning, another crisis took precedence over their investigation.

  The early hour meant that not even the servants were awake yet, but he needed to wake Taras. The soldiers had been summoned, along with every other able bodied man, to fight the crisis.

  The palace stirred around Nikolai. When it woke completely, it would be in a rage of chaos and panic. Acrid smoke wafted through open windows. He broke into a full run.

  When he reached Taras’s room, his heart racing, he pounded on the door with his fist. Not wanting to wait for Taras’s old manservant to shuffle out of bed--he and Taras were friends, after all; Taras wouldn’t care if Nikolai let himself in--he threw open the door and took three giant steps into the room.

  Nikolai had shared enough vodka in Taras’s rooms to know how the furniture was situated. When he entered, he stepped toward the bed. Inga sat up, awakened when he pounded on the door. Her eyes were wide and frightened.

  Summer had arrived, and few blankets covered the bed. That wasn’t strange. The strange thing was that she lay on the bed alone. Movement from the corner of Nikolai’s eye caught his attention, and he turned his head. He registered surprise. Taras lay on a bed of animal skins strewn on the floor in front of the cold fireplace.

  Taras eyed Nikolai cautiously. He and Inga exchanged meaningful looks. Taras slowly got to his feet.

  “Nikolai?”

  Nikolai made connections in his head. He thought he understood what was happening, but not why. So, Taras wasn’t bedding her any more than a man would bed his own sister. If their relationship was such, why did Taras specifically ask for her, only to sleep on the floor? Nikolai shook his head. Questions for later.

  “You must come quickly, Taras, and wake your men. Fire has broken out in the city.”

  “Fire?” Inga asked. Nikolai glanced at her. Her earlier fear had turned to stark terror.

  “Moscow is a wooden city and the wind is up. The flames already spread faster than we can contain them. We need every able man we can find.”