"Come, Master——"
With a shrug Peter Nicholaevitch turned and walked across the terrace toward the Castle. "Bolvany!" he muttered. "I've finished with them."
Boris and Vasili stood just within the door, pleading with him to hurry, and together they made their way through the deserted kitchens and over past the vegetable gardens to the stables, where Leo Garshin awaited them, the saddles on several horses. Behind them they could now hear the triumphant cries as the courtyard gate crashed in.
"Hurry, Master!" cried Garshin eagerly.
"Where are the others?" asked the Grand Duke.
"Gone, Highness. They have fled."
Boris Rylov was peering out past an iron door into the forest.
"There is no one there?" asked Garshin.
"Not yet. They have forgotten."
"Come then, Highness."