“Stop there!” The huge man moved toward Max, his beefy hand rising to the pistol stuck in his belt. “Drop yer sword!”

“Nyet,” Max said softly. He slid the sword back into its scabbard, using the side of his foot to surreptitiously nudge away his pistol so it wouldn’t be underfoot if he had to use the blade. “If you want it, then come and get it.” He readied himself, but the leader, who still held himself from the group, murmured a word that made the giant’s brow blacken yet more, though his hand moved away from the pistol in his belt.

Obviously every bit as disappointed as Max, the huge man growled, “I suppose ye can keep it. If ye’ll find yer way to makin’ a small donation to our cause, oot of sheer happiness of havin’ a safe way ahead of ye.”

“How do I know it’s safe from here on out?”

“Because we made it so, dinna we, men?”

“Aye!” replied the men, several of them oddly gruff in tone.

The giant nodded his shaggy head. “There ye go; a guarantee. If ye like, ye can toss yer gold where ye threw yer pistol.”

If Tata Natasha weren’t here, the outcome of this would be vastly different. Even as he had the thought, Max caught a movement where Orlov stood. In Oxenburgian, Max said quietly to his sergeant, “We cannot. The duchess is with us.”

Orlov, whose hand had been slowly moving toward his hidden pistol, grimaced and then gave a regretful nod. “Aye, General.”

“Here now,” the giant called gruffly. “Dinna be talkin’ tha’ gibberish. If ye’ve somethin’ to say, then say it in proper language.”

“I was telling my sergeant we should cooperate so that we might soon be enjoying a beverage near a warm fire.”

“If he’d really like to help quicken yer departure, he can donate to the cause, too.” The giant looked at Orlov. “Would ye like to gi’ a bit to the effort, lad?”

Orlov scowled, but with a regretful glance at the duchess’s coach, pulled some coins from his pocket and tossed them where Max’s pistol lay.

Max cast a hard glance at the slender man still standing in the shadows. No doubt he was silently laughing at their helplessness. Ehta prosta nivazmozhna. I will enjoy bringing you to justice, my fine friend. But for now, there was no more to be done. “Here.” Max withdrew a few coins from his pocket and tossed them to the icy mud.

The giant’s smile slipped. “Surely tha’ isna all ye ha’.”

“It’s all you’ll get.”

The giant’s thick red brows knit over his nose, but he gestured to the caped highwayman, who hurried forward to collect the gold.