1636 The Kremlin Games by Eric Flint & Gorg Huff & Paula Goodlett

Author:Eric Flint & Gorg Huff & Paula Goodlett [Flint, Eric & Huff, Gorg & Goodlett, Paula]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, General, Fiction, Alternative History, Adventure
ISBN: 9781451637762
Google: r939ygAACAAJ
Amazon: 1451637764
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2012-06-05T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 43

Dinner had been served outside and Natasha, Anya and Sofia had gone to their tent. Cass Lowry remained at the table, drinking vodka. The American had been drinking all afternoon. Vladislav kept a close eye on him. Lowry was a dangerous man—savage in a fight, and reckless and careless even when sober. He was also apparently a drunkard, judging from the relentless way he’d been working on the vodka.

It was a volatile combination. The camp was defensible, which left the nyekulturny outlander as Vladislav’s major worry. Lowry hadn’t let loose of the shotgun all day and had been passing out insults ever since the battle. After-combat jitters, perhaps. Trying to convince everyone, especially himself, that he wasn’t afraid. Vladislav had seen the reaction before. Then Cass had gotten quiet. Vladislav expected trouble. Soon.

The madman stood up and began to walk toward Natasha’s tent. What were his exact intentions? He was probably too drunk to know himself, beyond a raw desire to enter a tent that held two very attractive young women.

Bernie stepped in front of him and said something. Vladislav didn’t quite understand the words he spoke, since his English was still poor. But it was obvious he was trying to deflect his fellow American.

Lowry shoved Bernie away and said something Vladislav also didn’t understand. It was obviously rude; viciously so, Vladislav thought.

More so than Bernie had expected. That was also obvious. Bernie had the disadvantage of being a sane and civilized man dealing with someone beyond those boundaries. The uncultured outlander’s shove had pushed him back and his foot slipped on some rocks.

Vladislav stepped in. The shotgun had to go. He grabbed it from Cass and tossed it to one of his men, keeping the barrel pointed to the sky. Fighting man or not, valuable outlander or not, this one needed a lesson in manners. He hit Cass in the gut. Hard. Then in the face.

Vladislav had been restraining both himself and his men with some difficulty. He had orders to treat the new American carefully. He actually did respect the courage of the man in combat, though no more than he respected Bernie’s cool-headed shooting or his own men’s courage and discipline. But now that Lowry was posing a clear threat to the knyazhna, he had crossed the lines.

Lowry had gone down at the second blow but he was getting back up. He went for the pistol holstered at his side and Vladislav kicked him in the head. The American boor went down again.

“I’ve been protecting Knyazhna Natasha since she was a child, little man.” The outlander might not have been little physically, but he had a little soul. “I can live with your uncultured ways if I have to . . .”

Vladislav pulled Cass up from the ground, took the pistol out of the holster and set it on the table. Behind him, he heard Bernie talking to the guards. “Hey, guys, I can wait my turn, but at least let me watch.”

His Russian had gotten quite good, idiomatic and almost fluent.

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