told us.’
‘This is not Lara’s fault. Don’t blame her .’
‘She should’ve told us.’
I struck out with a gloved hand and hit Dimitri hard in the face. My limbs were stiff with cold and heavy with the weight of my coat, but I hit him hard and Dimitri had to step back to stay on
his feet. The cold would have numbed Dimitri’s pain, but his nose was bleeding when he came back at me, trying to rush me in the deep snow. I had no time to move away and the farmer struck
me, knocking me from my feet, taking us both to the ground.
Dimitri was a big man and he used his full weight, but I put my arms around him and rolled, raising my hands to punch him in the side of the head, over and over again as he struggled. I moved so
I was on top of my brother-in-law and I hit him again and again before I felt hands grabbing at my coat and I was yanked back, falling in the snow.
I sat like that, the sun almost gone, the air so cold the snow didn’t even melt beneath me, and I looked across at Dimitri. I watched him push himself up to look back at me, his face
bloody and blotched from the weight of my punches, his eyes wild and staring like a horse’s when it’s exhausted from a hard run.
‘Don’t try to blame Lara for this,’ I said to him. ‘Dariya ran away because she saw you killing a man.’
‘She didn’t see anything.’ Spittle came from Dimitri’s lips as he spoke. The hate was thick in his words.
‘She saw you take him and string him up and she came up here to get away from it,’ I said, getting to my feet and standing over Dimitri. ‘While you were trying to save us from
a killer, you were failing to protect your own child.’
Dimitri looked away.
‘And if you ever say it again,’ I told him. ‘If I ever hear you blame my daughter for this, I’ll kill you. I swear to God, I’ll bring you out here, right here , to this place, and I’ll kill you.’
The other men said nothing. They stood in the failing light, among the dark trunks of the naked trees, with their breath circling their heads like wraiths, and they said nothing. I looked at
each of them and let them see what was in my eyes; let them see that if any of them repeated Dimitri’s thoughts, I would take the words as an insult.
One of the men nodded, his face barely visible beneath his fur hat and his thick beard, but I saw that it was Leonid. The respected war veteran who had been in the cemetery earlier that day. One
of the men Dimitri had brought with him. He had seen it my way; he had tried to persuade Dimitri to keep what we’d seen to himself, but later he had been in the crowd.
I had always thought Leonid Andreyevich to be strong – a man who knew his own mind – but today he had proved himself fickle and indecisive, following the majority, afraid to step
forward from the line. He’d listened to Josif, a wiser and stronger man than he would ever be, but faced with the strength of numbers he’d merged with the majority, following them like
a sheep that follows its flock to the place of slaughter.
He opened his mouth as if to speak.
‘You have something to say, Leonid Andreyevich?’
He held up his hands to my challenge, a defensive, calming gesture.
‘There are tracks,’ Stanislav offered, trying to ease the moment. He was a young man, just a few years older than my own sons.
‘What kind of tracks?’ I asked, still staring at Leonid.
‘They could be the girl’s.’
‘Show me.’ I was already thinking it would be a miracle if any tracks had survived all the activity up here. When the men had come up the slope, they had walked in Dariya’s
prints, and now all that was left was a deep trough from my house to this point. It looked as if a small army had marched there. And where we were standing, the ground was a mess of crushed snow
from our fight. We had destroyed what might be the quickest means of finding Dariya.
Stanislav turned and led me further among the slender trunks of the trees. They were
‘This is not Lara’s fault. Don’t blame her .’
‘She should’ve told us.’
I struck out with a gloved hand and hit Dimitri hard in the face. My limbs were stiff with cold and heavy with the weight of my coat, but I hit him hard and Dimitri had to step back to stay on
his feet. The cold would have numbed Dimitri’s pain, but his nose was bleeding when he came back at me, trying to rush me in the deep snow. I had no time to move away and the farmer struck
me, knocking me from my feet, taking us both to the ground.
Dimitri was a big man and he used his full weight, but I put my arms around him and rolled, raising my hands to punch him in the side of the head, over and over again as he struggled. I moved so
I was on top of my brother-in-law and I hit him again and again before I felt hands grabbing at my coat and I was yanked back, falling in the snow.
I sat like that, the sun almost gone, the air so cold the snow didn’t even melt beneath me, and I looked across at Dimitri. I watched him push himself up to look back at me, his face
bloody and blotched from the weight of my punches, his eyes wild and staring like a horse’s when it’s exhausted from a hard run.
‘Don’t try to blame Lara for this,’ I said to him. ‘Dariya ran away because she saw you killing a man.’
‘She didn’t see anything.’ Spittle came from Dimitri’s lips as he spoke. The hate was thick in his words.
‘She saw you take him and string him up and she came up here to get away from it,’ I said, getting to my feet and standing over Dimitri. ‘While you were trying to save us from
a killer, you were failing to protect your own child.’
Dimitri looked away.
‘And if you ever say it again,’ I told him. ‘If I ever hear you blame my daughter for this, I’ll kill you. I swear to God, I’ll bring you out here, right here , to this place, and I’ll kill you.’
The other men said nothing. They stood in the failing light, among the dark trunks of the naked trees, with their breath circling their heads like wraiths, and they said nothing. I looked at
each of them and let them see what was in my eyes; let them see that if any of them repeated Dimitri’s thoughts, I would take the words as an insult.
One of the men nodded, his face barely visible beneath his fur hat and his thick beard, but I saw that it was Leonid. The respected war veteran who had been in the cemetery earlier that day. One
of the men Dimitri had brought with him. He had seen it my way; he had tried to persuade Dimitri to keep what we’d seen to himself, but later he had been in the crowd.
I had always thought Leonid Andreyevich to be strong – a man who knew his own mind – but today he had proved himself fickle and indecisive, following the majority, afraid to step
forward from the line. He’d listened to Josif, a wiser and stronger man than he would ever be, but faced with the strength of numbers he’d merged with the majority, following them like
a sheep that follows its flock to the place of slaughter.
He opened his mouth as if to speak.
‘You have something to say, Leonid Andreyevich?’
He held up his hands to my challenge, a defensive, calming gesture.
‘There are tracks,’ Stanislav offered, trying to ease the moment. He was a young man, just a few years older than my own sons.
‘What kind of tracks?’ I asked, still staring at Leonid.
‘They could be the girl’s.’
‘Show me.’ I was already thinking it would be a miracle if any tracks had survived all the activity up here. When the men had come up the slope, they had walked in Dariya’s
prints, and now all that was left was a deep trough from my house to this point. It looked as if a small army had marched there. And where we were standing, the ground was a mess of crushed snow
from our fight. We had destroyed what might be the quickest means of finding Dariya.
Stanislav turned and led me further among the slender trunks of the trees. They were
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