Cossack,” she yelled at him, “you frightened the life out of me. I thought you were dead.”
His scowl faded. He mumbled something unintelligible and lifted a vodka bottle to his lips, spilling trails of clear liquid down his throat and over the straw. The bottle was almost empty.
“Liev, you’re drunk.”
“Of course I’m bloody drunk.”
“I thought I smelled blood.”
“You always did imagine things.”
“I’m not imagining the trouble you’ll be in.”
He grinned at her then, his mouth a dark cave in the shadows, and upended the bottle to his lips.
“Liev! Don’t!” she scolded, but more softly this time.
He tossed the empty bottle toward her at the entrance to the stall, but it fell short. “What are you so frightened of?”
“I don’t want you whipped.”
“Hah!”
She held out the packet of sweets and soap. It felt absurd. “My father has a proper present for you.”
He laughed, a big guttural explosion that burst from his chest. “He’s already given it to me.”
“The pouch of roubles?”
His eyes narrowed into black slits. “Nyet, not the roubles.”
“What then? The razor and tobacco?”
In response the big man suddenly sat up, swaying violently, and yanked his black tunic up over his head, revealing a broad chest matted with thick black curls. Valentina couldn’t tear her eyes away. She’d never seen a man half naked before, not this close.
“You’re drunk,” she said again, but the words had lost their sting. “Put your top back on at once before you freeze to death.”
She might as well not have spoken. He threw the tunic aside and rolled over on the straw so that he was lying face down.
“Liev!” This time it came out as a faint gasp. She put a hand over her mouth and stared at his back.
The massive muscles were striped. Red tracks ran diagonally across them, so regular they looked as though they’d been painted on. The paint was still wet and glistening. Slowly she walked into the stall, where she dropped to her knees in the straw beside him. The lash cuts were deep in places, raw edges of flayed flesh laid bare. “Why?” she whispered. There was no need to ask Who?
Liev rolled away, seized his tunic, and pulled it over his head. She couldn’t understand how he could even move with a back like that.
“Why did he do such a thing?” She felt shame for her father, sour in her stomach.
Popkov ferreted out another bottle from under the straw. This one was full. “Yesterday,” he said, “I went to your sister’s room when the nurse wasn’t there.”
“Oh, Liev. I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged and poured more of the alcohol down his throat. “I wanted to give her a small gift for Christmas, that’s all.”
“But it’s her bedroom.”
“I’ve been in there many times to lift her in and out of her wheelchair.”
“But never without Nurse Sonya present.”
He snorted. “ Nyet. Your father walked in when I was sitting on the end of the bed talking with her. So he whipped me.”
Suddenly Valentina was hitting him in a fury. Her fists hammered down on his chest, pummeling its granite muscles.
“You stupid dumb oaf,” she shouted, “you brainless Cossack, you’re crazy. You deserve to be whipped.”
He just laughed, then seized one of her wrists and pressed the neck of the vodka bottle into her hand.
“Here, have some.”
She stared at the innocent-looking drink, gave a deep bone-shaking shudder, and raised the bottle to her lips.
V ALENTINA FELT VERY WARM. SHE COULD HEAR THE NIGHT wind scratching at the wooden stable walls. Something pleasant was floating around in her head, something with wings like a butterfly or a moth. Her lips no longer seemed to belong to her and kept curling up into vacant smiles. She was seated on the floor, leaning back against the side of the stall with a pile of straw tucked around her legs. How did all that heat get inside her stomach? Whenever she shut her eyes a whirring sound set off inside her
His scowl faded. He mumbled something unintelligible and lifted a vodka bottle to his lips, spilling trails of clear liquid down his throat and over the straw. The bottle was almost empty.
“Liev, you’re drunk.”
“Of course I’m bloody drunk.”
“I thought I smelled blood.”
“You always did imagine things.”
“I’m not imagining the trouble you’ll be in.”
He grinned at her then, his mouth a dark cave in the shadows, and upended the bottle to his lips.
“Liev! Don’t!” she scolded, but more softly this time.
He tossed the empty bottle toward her at the entrance to the stall, but it fell short. “What are you so frightened of?”
“I don’t want you whipped.”
“Hah!”
She held out the packet of sweets and soap. It felt absurd. “My father has a proper present for you.”
He laughed, a big guttural explosion that burst from his chest. “He’s already given it to me.”
“The pouch of roubles?”
His eyes narrowed into black slits. “Nyet, not the roubles.”
“What then? The razor and tobacco?”
In response the big man suddenly sat up, swaying violently, and yanked his black tunic up over his head, revealing a broad chest matted with thick black curls. Valentina couldn’t tear her eyes away. She’d never seen a man half naked before, not this close.
“You’re drunk,” she said again, but the words had lost their sting. “Put your top back on at once before you freeze to death.”
She might as well not have spoken. He threw the tunic aside and rolled over on the straw so that he was lying face down.
“Liev!” This time it came out as a faint gasp. She put a hand over her mouth and stared at his back.
The massive muscles were striped. Red tracks ran diagonally across them, so regular they looked as though they’d been painted on. The paint was still wet and glistening. Slowly she walked into the stall, where she dropped to her knees in the straw beside him. The lash cuts were deep in places, raw edges of flayed flesh laid bare. “Why?” she whispered. There was no need to ask Who?
Liev rolled away, seized his tunic, and pulled it over his head. She couldn’t understand how he could even move with a back like that.
“Why did he do such a thing?” She felt shame for her father, sour in her stomach.
Popkov ferreted out another bottle from under the straw. This one was full. “Yesterday,” he said, “I went to your sister’s room when the nurse wasn’t there.”
“Oh, Liev. I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged and poured more of the alcohol down his throat. “I wanted to give her a small gift for Christmas, that’s all.”
“But it’s her bedroom.”
“I’ve been in there many times to lift her in and out of her wheelchair.”
“But never without Nurse Sonya present.”
He snorted. “ Nyet. Your father walked in when I was sitting on the end of the bed talking with her. So he whipped me.”
Suddenly Valentina was hitting him in a fury. Her fists hammered down on his chest, pummeling its granite muscles.
“You stupid dumb oaf,” she shouted, “you brainless Cossack, you’re crazy. You deserve to be whipped.”
He just laughed, then seized one of her wrists and pressed the neck of the vodka bottle into her hand.
“Here, have some.”
She stared at the innocent-looking drink, gave a deep bone-shaking shudder, and raised the bottle to her lips.
V ALENTINA FELT VERY WARM. SHE COULD HEAR THE NIGHT wind scratching at the wooden stable walls. Something pleasant was floating around in her head, something with wings like a butterfly or a moth. Her lips no longer seemed to belong to her and kept curling up into vacant smiles. She was seated on the floor, leaning back against the side of the stall with a pile of straw tucked around her legs. How did all that heat get inside her stomach? Whenever she shut her eyes a whirring sound set off inside her
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