Read The Cruel Count (Bantam Series No. 28) for Free Online Page B

side of it, a twisting road winding its way beside a silver river until it disappeared into the distance.
    It appeared empty and she wondered if in fact there were Revolutionaries forming ambushes on either side of it or advancing t owards Jeno to prevent her entering the country.
    Was the whole thing a figment of the Count’s imagination, and was it really necessary for her to endure the dangers of this mountain path?
    At that moment she would willingly have encountered a thousand Revolutionaries rather than journey along the cliff’s edge.
    “Go back.”
    She felt as if the Count had sensed her fear and was deliberately tempting her.
    With an almost superhuman effort she managed to answer him proudly:
    “I have already told you, Count, that I wish to reach Djilas,” she said, “I see no reason to change my mind.”
    She turned away as she spoke knowing she could not bear to look any longer at the barren rocks.
    Walking back into the shelter of the trees, she sat down beneath the great oaks to watch the horses cropping the grass.
    The Count did not follow her and she wondered if he was too annoyed at having failed once again to shake her determination.
    She sat looking into the wood. In the distance she saw a small roe-deer moving between the tree trunks, and she tried to divert her mind from what lay ahead, by recalling the animals that the Aide-de-camp had told her were indigenous to Katona.
    The jackal, porcupine, wild cat, the brown bear, the lynx were, she remembered, some of them.
    “Of course there are eagles,” the Aide-de-camp had said, “some of them very large. As the shepherds will tell you they are dangerous to the young lambs in the Spring.”
    “The Count is dangerous!” Vesta told herself, “he is trying to make me afraid. He is deliberately using every possible means to force me to leave the country.”
    Something strong and proud made her determined that she would not give in to him, and what was more she would not let him see how afraid she was.
    But even so, when they re-mounted their horses and he went ahead onto the narrow rock path, she felt so frightened that she thought she must cry out and beg him to take her back.
    ‘I must not ... look down! I must not ... look down,’ she told herself.
    And because her horse needed no guidance, following faithfully behind the one ridden by the Count, she shut her eyes and began to pray.
    ‘Please God ... do not let me be a ... coward! Please God ... do not let me ... fall! Please God ... keep me safe and ... brave!’
    Her eyes opened for a moment and she realised they had not progressed far. The cliffs edge appeared to be only a few inches from her horse’s feet.
    She shut her eyes again and went on praying.
    Once her animal stumbled. She drew in her breath so sharply, it was like a knife in her breast.
    “Are you all right?” the Count asked looking back over his shoulder.
    His voice echoed round the barren rocks:
    “All right—all right.” Like a ghost it came back to her.
    She could not reply. It was impossible to force any words to her lips. She could not even whisper her prayers, she could only say them in her heart.
    ‘Please ... God, do not ... let me ... fall!’
    It seemed to her as if a century of time passed. The horses plodded on, their hooves ringing out on the loose stones, the jingle of their bridles seeming unnaturally loud.
    Vesta had given up all pretence of doing anything but keep in the saddle. She was holding on to the pommel with both hands, her eyes closed.
    She was so tense that she could hardly breathe, and then when she felt as if her fear encompassed her to the point of suffocation, she heard the Count say:
    “Well, here are the trees again.”
    He spoke lightly, and hardly daring to believe him Vesta half opened her eyes.
    It was true. They were out of the sunshine and into the shadow of the trees all around her.
    It was then as she drew in her breath she knew she was going to faint. She gripped the pommel so