by Purple Hazel
And that’s why, when Tatyana brought up the idea of having Lyev come work for them next spring, once “he” had gotten his crops planted, Bogdan didn’t hesitate. When she asked about it, he replied enthusiastically “Oh, yes, Tatyana…that would be fantastic! So much to do around here after the snows melt, and so many guests at the inn…especially the dining hall. Needs so much work. You would do this, my boy? Come stay with us again?” Ludmilla nodded and grinned.
Tatyana then reminded him, “Lyev fixes things at his farm, too…quite handy…knows how to repair fences and gates…he even built a water mill!” Ludmilla only smiled humbly. Bogdan had no doubt his daughter was speaking the truth. Then she added, “And Lyev thinks we could make vodka out of beets to sell to customers…right here in our kitchen…instead of buying it. Could we do that, too, Father?” That especially intrigued the old innkeeper. “Vodka?” the man repeated with raised eyebrows. He stopped working and looked directly at Ludmilla.
Distill vodka right there in Belgorod and serve to my customers? he began to imagine. Oh, that would be brilliant, yes. So efficient, too. After all, it gets men drunker; and it gets them drunk faster. We could charge more for it! So many ways to make it, too! Beets, turnips, wheat…we could make it all year long really…if we could only build a still.
Tatyana confirmed with a laugh, “Yes, Father…vodka. With Lyev helping out around here, we’d have time, and in the winter you know, when things slow down…?” Bogdan knew exactly what she was inferring. Ale supplies could thin out during wintertime; as they ran out of barley to make it. But beets had sugar, and Bogdan had learned a similar process from his father long ago. He’d just never pursued it. “Lyev tells me we’ve got most everything we need right here in the kitchen. Only need to build a still. And I bet he can help us do that, too!” she exclaimed. “What do you say, Father?” By then Bogdan was smiling ear-to-ear. He loved his daughter’s enthusiasm.
Ludmilla patiently nodded while Tatyana spoke. Her simplified version of what she had proposed was plenty good enough; and Ludmilla could sense that Bogdan was already seeing the logic. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” Tatyana then asked with a bright smile. “We could make lots of money in the winter if we made vodka. Customers would love it.”
But Bogdan could already see quite clearly how this would help his business. If he could make vodka—if he had the time to do it that is—he’d be packing his tavern with guests all winter. Traders from far off lands, soldiers passing through town, locals who wanted to get away from the wife for a few hours…they’d patronize his tavern every night. If he could make his own spirits that would mean, well, it would mean he could afford to hire more help for one thing!
Bogdan nodded with a grin. “Yes, Tatyana, I see exactly. We’ll try it then, come the spring, once our new friend here is done with his planting.” And so it was settled. “Lyev” would return next April after planting season and help Bodgan build a “distillery” in Belgorod. That was the plan.
Chapter 6
Bogdan’s Tavern
That evening, Ludmilla continued helping with the operation of the tavern, even assisted Tatyana with filling drink orders and bringing out food to customers so she could handle other tasks outside the kitchen.
That night the place was brimming with activity. The warm sunshine earlier that day had inspired people to get out and enjoy the town, get some shopping done, or catch up on chores. With no new snow or weather moving in, a lot of people also felt like stopping off for a pint or two; or a bottle of vodka with their mates. It was a raucous experience at times; and Ludmilla certainly got a taste of what Tatyana often had to put up with! However, things were remarkably different for Tatyana that night. The patrons were quite well-behaved—at least in comparison to normal. Throughout the evening, no one made a pass at her. The embraces around the waist, the fondling of her buttocks, and the gropes of her legs ceased completely—but for good reason!
First of all, Ludmilla was seen practically everywhere Tatyana went most of the night. When drunken men saw a muscular, mannish-looking figure taking their orders or following Tatyana about, bringing mugs of ale or trays with bowls of Borsch and platters of bread, they straightened right up.
But there was something else—something vaguely different about Tatyana. She no longer seemed so vulnerable any more. She had a new confidence about herself that amazed everyone. Tatyana acted like a woman who had the deep satisfaction of knowing that someone else in the world truly cared for her. Not just a brother or a parent or a sister, of course. Not just a new friend to pal around with either. No, this was different. Someone was deeply smitten with Tatyana, and what’s more Tatyana clearly felt the same way.
Tatyana certainly aided her own cause of course, taking extra care to make sure she introduced “Lyev” at every opportunity. No one would dare trying anything with Ludmilla now glaring them down; and for that matter why should they? They were just there to have fun, not get in a fight with what they figured was Tatyana’s new “boyfriend.” Ludmilla for her part, seemed to make it quite clear that they’d better not try either.
Ludmilla was certainly not the largest person in the dining hall that night. Far from it. But she was clearly a deterrent. To be sure, half of the customers that night had already met her that day, during their tour of the town. And what’s more, the interaction between the two—Tatyana and “Lyev”—was obviously that of a couple who were quite fond of each other. It was readily apparent in the way they spoke to each other or looked at each other.
The only tense moment during the night was when a drunk slurred out something about Ludmilla’s clean-shaven face; seeming to be questioning her family lineage as well. True, it was normal for a Russian man of her age to have a healthy beard in those days. Most any young man of seventeen was at least starting one by now, and yet this “Lyev” fellow evidently didn’t have a whisker they could see anywhere on her cheeks or chin.
“So, my good man…” babbled the jaundice-eyed inebriant sitting with a group of boisterous drunks, “You seem to shave rather closely (belch). Are you really from around here (hiccup)?” His mates began to snicker then he sneered provocatively, “Or did your great grandfather perhaps come riding through with the Golden Horde?”
In response to his brash insult, his comrades sitting around him burst into insane laughter—like snorting hogs in a pen at feeding time—and for a moment, Ludmilla seethed with boiling resentment. She glared down at him coldly. It was much like when she was a pre-teen, and her evil brother tried making fun of her. She always hated that—finally had to stand up for herself, too. However, this time, there was no Vladimyr there to calm everyone down if things came to blows. If she reacted violently, she might get herself into a real pickle! Ludmilla’s temper flared for a moment as she stood there embarrassed and weighed her options.
But then instead of wringing the wretch's neck; despite how much she really wanted to, she changed her mind and did something completely different. Thinking fast, Ludmilla quickly composed herself and very coolly replied, “Well, you see my girlfriend over there? The brunette? She likes when I shave really close…likes smooth cheeks, I guess.” Then Ludmilla shrugged her shoulders, “What’s a guy gonna do, you know?”
Ludmilla cocked her head to the side and rolled her eyes over toward Tatyana standing across the room. That, it turned out, was quite enough to ease the situation; as the whole table craned their necks to look over at a beaming Tatyana. She was looking right back at Ludmilla, with her hands on her hips, cleavage glistening with sweat from the evening's toils. To the drunks she suddenly looked like an irresistible goddess—no longer the dainty girl they used to kid with, no longer the barmaid they used to pinch and grope for their amusement. And the sole object of her affection was clearly “Lyev,” no one else. It made perfect sense now.
“That’s what she likes, huh?” asked one of them with a chuckle. Ludmilla rolled her eyes whimsically and nodded—replying with a sheepish grin, “Yes, that and other thin
gs,” then they once again howled with mirthful laughter, doubling over and pounding the table joyously. Confrontation averted.
One even stood up, and gave her a manly slap on the upper arm right above the bicep. “Good man!” he laughed. “Now…you drink with us, eh? Join us, please! Sit with us a while!” He gestured with his big hands for Ludmilla to take a seat with them; and the men made room for her. Amazingly, Ludmilla’s coy response impressed them; and in some odd way the young woman had somehow gained acceptance into their gang. She knew she had no choice but to accept the offer. “Lyev” was now apparently one of the boys.
How could she refuse? Ludmilla nodded humbly and plopped right down next the burly men, mostly guards from the castle and a few ruffians from the town. Seeing this, Tatyana proudly brought them all another round of ale, admonishing them humorously. “Now, you boys take good care of my friend here…he’s coming to work for us this summer after planting season.” They laughed again and one yelled boisterously, “Ah, so he’s a farmer, is he? Wonderful! Let’s see if this farmboy can drink!”
Ludmilla grinned awkwardly and nodded. She could tell they already liked her, and in her heart she also knew she’d succeeded in making it clear to the whole tavern that Tatyana now belonged to her. No one would question it. For that matter, she could tell they sincerely loved Tatyana. But they loved her more like a kid sister, Ludmilla observed. What’s more because their “little sister” was so apparently smitten with her new-found “boyfriend” they were also quite willing to consider Ludmilla part of their community. That thought occurred to her as well. Ludmilla suddenly felt so deeply pleased with herself.
As the evening wore on; with all the drinking and carousing, the jeering and taunting, the joking and joshing going on at the table, Ludmilla gulped down three big pints of ale, only to find Tatyana was discretely bringing her water to drink after the third; and making sure she knew why. “Here’s some water Lyev. Let’s not get you too drunk tonight, okay?” she whispered playfully into Ludmilla’s ear. Ludmilla nodded in appreciation and maintained the ruse for the rest of the night as the men around her got drunker and drunker; while she by way of comparison gradually began sobering up. Luckily no one noticed.
“So tell us, moy dobryy drug,” slurred one of the men. “You’re a farmer, out there so many miles from the city. It is good that the Tatars have not come this way in a while, don’t you think?” Ludmilla nodded, not knowing what else to say. He then added, “And yet the army, my boy. The troop levy. You have not joined up yet, I see.” Ludmilla could see now what he was driving at. She was nearing the age for military conscription…he and his friends could probably detect this.
“Da,” she replied. “Brothers have all gone off to fight. None have returned. It is only me and Father running the farm now. He is getting older, you know? I have to take care of things for him.” This seemed to satisfy the man’s curiosity.
“Well, that is good, Lyev,” he said with an understanding nod. “We all have our roles to fulfill. Lucky for us guards that we serve garrison duty. I know I wouldn’t want to be out there hunting those heathens come springtime. Never know when they’ll come; nor where they’re going when they do. Might be a hundred…might be thousands. But you’re safe for now, boy. At least until the snows melt. Then you and your father might have to flee to the city.”
Another among the group disagreed. “Nyet,” he said interrupting. “Ya ne soglasen. We whipped them good last time. The army that is. I heard they really gave ’em a beating.” He was referring to the victory over the Tatars the previous summer where Russian Boyars caught a large force of horsemen out in the open and decimated them with their lances. This began a whole new conversation at the table.
“Podozhdi minutu!” said another. “We got them once, sure. But who’s to say with those filthy devils? They’ll come back. They always come back.” He made a good point. They’d been coming year after year since the thirteenth century. “Bastards…all of them,” commented another. “They’d best not attack us here, that’s for sure,” quipped yet another.
Then the first one spoke up yet again to settle the matter once and for all. “I agree with that, tovarishchi. If they have any sense at all, they’d better not try taking Belgorod. If they do, we’ll smash them!” And to that they all hoisted their cups, cheering triumphantly. Then they went back to drinking and joking with each other for another hour or so.
Eventually however the tavern emptied out; as one by one men started getting up to leave and stagger back to their homes, their wives, or their barracks back at the castle. All of a sudden the place was quiet again. And when the last of the revelers had called it a night, Ludmilla looked around to assess the damage.
“What a mess!” she laughed. A broken bench, a few spilled mugs of ale, half-eaten bowls of Borsch, bread crumbs all over the table…now they would have to stay up late and clean it before they could retire. “We certainly have our work cut out for us, don’t we?” she exclaimed.
Tatyana was not perturbed in the least by messy customers, of course. In fact, during the evening while Ludmilla was drinking with the boys, Tatyana got right to work cleaning—wherever a place at the table had been vacated. Ludmilla saw this and felt inclined to start helping her. After all, growing up in a farm house full of brothers, she was accustomed to messy kitchens and tables! Difference was, everyone had to pitch in when supper was finished.
However when the last guest had left and the tavern closed, that’s when Ludmilla could finally lend a hand. Working side-by-side, the duo made rather short work of it. Ludmilla got to work cleaning. And after a little while she was in top form, rushing around turning benches on their side to wash and scrub them off with a brush and a bucket of water while Tatyana felt more inclined to just wipe the tables and benches down, leaving the floor puddled with water and bread crumbs. This she had done thousands of times before; and she was quite less than thorough compared to Ludmilla!
To Ludmilla, this simply would not do. Once she got on a roll she worked diligently until the whole dining hall was cleaned (and smelled at least a little bit less like a horse stall than it did before). She even took a broom and swept the excess soapy water back and forth across the slatted wood floor to give it a good scrubbing. Amazed at her thoroughness, Bodgan fetched her additional buckets of water from the well outside after he finished in the kitchen. Then the two proceeded to scour the floor for the first time in years.
In a couple hours the place was remarkably improved, and Ludmilla was soon being urged by Tatyana to go up to bed. “I can take it from here, Lyev. Thanks,” she said. “Go get some rest, you’ve got a long ride home tomorrow.” This was quite correct. Ludmilla had to return to father’s farm the next day; and that sled ride home might very well be another snowy ordeal. She would surely need a good night’s sleep before attempting it. That said, Tatyana did have every intention of following Ludmilla to her room to tell her goodnight.
“Come, let me show you back to your room. You’re still our guest here, you know?” said the beautiful brunette. “I must do my job after all, yes?” Ludmilla chuckled. But inside, her tummy was fluttering with nerves. She looked away from Tatyana toward the stairs, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood right up!
What am I going to do now? she wondered. She looked at the stairwell and began walking up the steps slowly. She needed time to think. What happens when we get to the room? she thought. What will happen at the door this time? Should I kiss her goodnight? Her senses tingled with excitement. Or…will she turn away? she fretted. Will it ruin everything if I try?
Then again, what if Tatyana did the complete opposite and warmly embraced Ludmilla; right there in the doorway? That was just as much a possibility as anything else! Wouldn’t that be nice? She fantasized about it during the ascent while Tatyana silently followed her. With each footfall, it seemed this was the longest staircase she’d ever climbed.
No, Ludmilla had no idea what she was going to do when they got there, but m
ost likely something…something indeed…was going to happen when she faced Tatyana to say goodnight. Just what, Ludmilla was afraid to guess. She only knew one thing: she’d better not miss this chance. If the girl was following her back that meant something intimate needed to occur. It was a foregone conclusion. And there might not be another opportunity! Ludmilla might very well return in April to find Tatyana gone—having run off with some handsome young man! Then she would lose her forever. This thought tortured Ludmilla’s mind most of all as she ascended the stairs.
Ludmilla began picturing what she’d do—when she got there that is—and her mind formed a scenario that would make the most sense. She tried picturing turning around at the doorway and facing Tatyana. Then she imagined pausing to look into her eyes, recalling with her the wonderful time they’d had together.
She’d reach out and gently grasp Tatyana’s arm, right above the elbow, then slide down the forearm to her hand and give it a squeeze. Next she would pause for a moment to gaze at Tatyana’s beautiful face—in an attempt to remember the moment for the rest of the coming months as they looked forward to seeing each other again. Yes, that will inspire the girl, she figured.
She’d lean in ever so slowly, giving Tatyana ample opportunity to pull away without feeling she was in any danger. Let Tatyana have a chance to change her mind if she wished. Oh, yes, that would be appropriate, given the girl’s reaction the night before when they both reached for the doorknob. And if Ludmilla detected any hesitation whatsoever, then the whole mission could be aborted. No need to make a fool of herself if Tatyana wasn't ready or didn't share the same feelings for her.
