The Wild Fields

by Purple Hazel

  Ludmilla loved that so very much about Tatyana. She would only see the positives in any given situation. Negative possibilities didn't seem to cross her mind. That's really what made them such a great couple together. Ludmilla was the practical one who provided a solid foundation for Tatyana's confidence in herself. Tatyana was the ever-happy soul who inspired Ludmilla's passion for accomplishment. And besides; Tatyana was quite right. Working a peasant farm was a much harder life than running an inn!

  They embraced in the middle of the field and kissed passionately. “So it's settled then,” said Ludmilla confidently, “When the field is harvested, we'll head into town and ask your father to give his blessing.” Ludmilla embraced her and Tatyana giggled when their sweaty bodies meshed. “I love you Tatyana,” Ludmilla added. Tatyana replied, “Mmm-hmm, I know…and I love you, too, Lyev.” Then they kissed again, sweat still beading on their upper lips in the hot afternoon sun.

  * * * *

  That's probably why they didn't see them coming. They hadn’t yet noticed the large cloud of dust miles away to the north either: from the enormous column of horsemen and over 150,000 bound slaves marching southward in an almost infinite river of sad, terrified, exhausted humanity. How could they have missed the noise and dust this throng of people and horses created? They shouldn't have really, but they did. So in love, so focused on each other, they never looked around to grasp the danger of their situation. And now it was too late.

  When Ludmilla finally noticed the sound of horse hooves way off in the distance—Tatar scouts galloping toward their farm searching for forage—it still took several moments to process it and feel the electrifying sense of panic that built within her. It started in her toes, tingling like she was standing barefoot on an anthill; then it permeated her body all the way up to her scalp! When it hit her, that's when she could vaguely hear Tatyana (as though she were several feet away) mouthing in a strained breathy whisper, “TATARS?!” Ludmilla nodded anxiously, and grasped Tatyana's hand.

  For a long moment Ludmilla froze as the two stood there wondering what to do. If they ran, the Tatars would see them moving. If they stood still, the Tatars would see them standing amongst the ripening barley. They were evidently trapped! For a brief second Ludmilla spun to look around, then immediately thought of a solution. They were in a barley field after all—maybe if they ducked down between the stalks, they could hide for a while. Yes, that might work, thought Ludmilla. Hopefully, the Tatars would ride through and not find them. Ludmilla whispered in a low hissing voice, “Get down Tatyana. Let’s hide right here.” And they both quickly crouched down in the muddy furrows of ripening barley, irrigated earlier that morning.

  They laid down in the muck and remained lying there on their sides for some time, holding each other with Ludmilla providing an arm for Tatyana to rest her head on above the surface. Ludmilla whispered, “Sssshhh, just wait my Darling.” Tatyana was completely terrified and it showed in her eyes. She kept wanting to ask questions that could not possibly have an answer. And any questions she could pose that likely did have an answer, she couldn't possibly want to know. It was all too terrible to contemplate.

  Perhaps the Tatars would move right through. Perhaps they'd harvest part of the field for their horses and then leave. If they did, the young lovers could make a break for the woods later and hide out until the danger passed. Ludmilla considered all these possibilities but she was fooling herself, and she knew it. They'd surely stop at the farmhouse and search for any healthy peasants they could capture. Her stomach tied up in knots as she pondered the images in her mind. The kitchen was all in order, the wash was out drying on the clothesline. They'd know, wouldn’t they? They’d know a woman lived here. Her heart pounded in her chest.

  After an eternity of waiting, she could hear the horsemen stopping at the farmhouse over a hundred yards away. She could hear warriors dismounting and chattering in some odd language she couldn't understand. She didn't need to. A commander was heard shouting and snarling orders at his men. Rumbling and banging could be heard going on inside the farmhouse. They were searching the rooms!

  “Oh, Lyev…no!” Tatyana whispered in terror. Ludmilla stroked her cheek and calmed her, saying in a low voice, “It's okay, my Love. They haven't found us yet. They’re just hungry. They’ll take what they want and leave.” But Ludmilla knew she was being unrealistic. They'd search the fields eventually. And they'd find them. It was only a matter of time. That's when she got a desperate idea.

  As the horsemen in the small band of Tatar scouts began watering their horses at the nearby creek and remarking on the clever irrigation system she'd constructed, Ludmilla decided she needed to try and make herself as filthy as possible. Her best chance at saving Tatyana, if they were captured, was to stay alive. And her best chance at staying alive was if she made the Tatars believe she was actually a young man. She’d fooled the guards in town, hadn't she? She could fool these heathens as well, she hoped.

  Ludmilla removed her arm from under Tatyana's head carefully and grabbed up some of the mud around her. It was already drying in the hot afternoon sun, so it would do nicely for now. She began smearing it onto her bared forearms and wiping it all over her face. Tatyana gave her an anxious look of confusion and started to ask, “What are you doing?” but Ludmilla held up a muddy index finger to her lips to remind her to remain silent. Ludmilla wanted to make herself as filthy as possible so the Tatars would think she was indeed a young man working in the ripening fields. If they asked about a wife or woman living there, Ludmilla knew precisely what she’d say. If all they could capture that day was a good field hand, then maybe—just maybe—they'd simply take her and go. It was a feeble idea at best, but it might work.

  In his native Tatar, the commander began yelling at his men leaving the farmhouse. It sounded like a question, but Ludmilla wasn't really sure with their Asian-sounding accents. He was likely asking if they'd found anyone inside; that’s about all she could guess. Troops exiting the farmhouse answered him with a tone that sounded a lot like they had not found what they were looking for. In frustration, the commander seemed to be telling his men to do something else, but what was he telling them? It must have been a command to search the surrounding fields, though, because within a short while, Ludmilla could hear men approaching the barley field. She continued to rub muddy filth over her face, and even removed her woolen kepka to rub mud into her hair. There was no way to disguise her gender with a beard, of course, but she knew she'd have to improvise!

  As the footsteps drew nearer, Tatyana began to whimper softly and Ludmilla cautioned her with hand motions to remain silent. Tears filled Tatyana’s eyes as she tried in vain to suppress her fear. Her body trembled. Ludmilla's stomach rumbled from not having any midday meal yet, and she winced with frustration at the noise it was making. She had smelled the food cooking earlier that Tatyana was making for her, and her body was yearning for nourishment despite how sickened she was feeling.

  It occurred to her there could be no doubt among the Tatars anymore that a woman lived there, and they'd search for her everywhere. What’s more, if there was a field of barley ripening, they'd surely assume a man lived there, too. All Ludmilla could think of was how to keep Tatyana concealed until the Tatars left, but it was a foregone conclusion for her personally. She was going to have to make a sacrifice to save her lover. Ludmilla could hear the Tatars calling out sarcastically and humorously in heavily accented Russian.

  “Gde ty? Gde ty devushka? (Where are you girl?) Then the commander himself also chimed in with, “Vyyti my tebya ne bol'no! vyyti seychas, i my tebya ne bol'no! (Come out now and we won't hurt you)” She decided it was high time to act.

  Ludmilla crawled up to her knees and cautioned Tatyana to remain silent. Her plan was to stand up slowly and surrender to the Tatars. If it worked and they thought she was a simple farmhand working in a field—maybe they'd take her away thinking Ludmilla lived there by herself. It was a long-shot, but she had to do something. What’s more
, if they asked about a wife or woman living there, Ludmilla had a pretty good story for that as well.

  Ludmilla cried out to them using the only Tatar she knew how to speak; but it sounded awful. It was a phrase she’d heard many times at the market in Belgorod and she’d memorized it. Tatyana looked up at her in terrified confusion as Ludmilla screamed, “Isanme! Raxim itegez! (Hello…welcome!)”

  The Tatars froze in their tracks for a moment, baffled. They crouched slightly into battle poses and waited—eyes widened, searching intensely for the exact location of their prey. Ludmilla slowly rose to her feet as Tatyana suppressed an anxious shriek. “Raxim itegez! Isanme!” repeated Ludmilla as she stood with her hands at her sides, palms turned up. She bowed her head obediently and squeezed her eyes closed hoping maybe this would assure the Tatars that she was surrendering peacefully. If it didn’t work, she’d know quickly if an arrow pierced her chest.

  The Tatars across the fields from her began snickering uncontrollably. Their commander burst out laughing as well when he too, processed what Ludmilla was actually saying with her thick accent. He didn't bother acknowledging Ludmilla in his native Tatar. He knew better. This young farmer clearly didn't speak his language, but it humored him hearing the attempt. He barked orders to his men nearby to stand down. One had already raised his bow in preparation to fire an arrow through Ludmilla's heart, but the commander gestured for the warrior to lower his weapon.

  “Welcome?” snarled the hardened commander in Russian. “Hahahah, how nice of you young man. And where is your mother today?” he then asked in a rough but sarcastic tone. Ludmilla began walking slowly toward him down the row of barley with her hands at waist height and palms still upturned to indicate she had no weapon. She kept her head bowed in obedience, replying, “Dead, my lord. Died of fever.” The commander subtly glanced over at the two graves nearly a hundred yards away…one clearly had been freshly dug. The reply seemed to make sense. “I see…and your wife?” he asked suspiciously. “I have none, my Lord.” replied Ludmilla.

  The commander eyed Ludmilla suspiciously as she approached, picking up pace as she walked, hoping that the farther she got from Tatyana the better. “I see, and yet you are such a good cook, my men tell me,” the commander chuckled. “The soup was delicious, I hear,” he added in a patronizing tone.

  “Thank you my lord, please take whatever you like,” replied Ludmilla, hoping against hope that she'd won the man over at least temporarily. But suddenly the Tatar commander gave a grunt and then snarled something in Tatar to his men. “We will…peasant!” yelled the man in a threatening manner; and within moments the Tatars nearby were closing in on Ludmilla. “Bind him!” shouted the Tatar commander. Ludmilla froze in fear while she prayed silently, Oh! Father in Heaven…please protect us!

  Ludmilla was soon bound by the wrists and the rope was then tethered at the other end to a horseman who mounted his pony in a bounding leap. Next she was literally dragged over to the tree where her parents were buried, all the while thinking to herself, Well, this is it, then. Hopefully they'll kill me now and then leave. Or maybe they'll haul me off to work in their fields down south as a slave. Perhaps they'll come back later to harvest the entire field, who knows? Meantime maybe Tatyana will escape! All these thoughts ran through her head as they laughed at her being drawn through the muddy fields to the large tree. They mocked her in Tatar and kicked at her as she was dragged past them.

  The horseman who had been towing her then got off his horse and untied his end of the rope from his pony. Then he threw the rope over a tree branch and strung her up by her wrists for the commander to interrogate her. It hurt terribly, and Ludmilla let out a feminine yelp. Feet dangling just off the ground, Ludmilla could feel her portas slowly slipping off her waist. The Tatars left her hanging there like that for quite a while too, as she tried to squirm and hold her trousers up. The Tatars laughed at her pathetic struggle, not fully realizing that she was actually more concerned about her pants falling down! It went on like that for an eternity, as Ludmilla tried like hell to keep her pants from slipping completely past her bottom; and her wrists ached horribly from the coarse rope used to bind her.

  Oh, my God, no, thought Ludmilla. If they see that I'm a woman God knows what they'll do to me. However, her pants did not slip below the tail of her long rubashka despite her arms being stretched above her head. For now at least, her gender was still a secret. Instead the Commander came up to her and poked a blood-spattered dagger up to her belly.

  “No woman here, eh? So you mean to tell us you grew this barley field all alone, planted it yourself? Then you did all your own washing? Still had time to make yourself a pot of stew? We shall see, peasant!” With that he turned and ordered his men to scour the barley field where the young “man” had originally stood up. Ludmilla didn't understand his words, but could imagine what he was saying. She eventually panicked and cried out, “Wait (gasp)…please!”

  The commander yelled an order to his men to halt, then turned to her as she struggled with her bindings. “Yes, peasant? What is it? You remember now where you put your wife?” Then he laughed evilly. Several of his men laughed along with him. “Yes!” gasped Ludmilla. It was her only hope to spare Tatyana brutal treatment when they finally discovered her. They might even murder her out of frustration if they wanted to. No, it was better just to cooperate and hope for a hard life together with Tatyana in slavery. Maybe they’d work on a farm together. Maybe they’d be put to work down south in some Tatar-held city. That was the best she could imagine for now.

  “I'll call for her, my Lord. Please don't hurt her. Please,” begged Ludmilla, her eyes desperate in fear. The commander sighed with feigned compassion. “Oh, but we won't, you see? I said so already,” he said with a nasty grin. “Let him down!” ordered the commander, motioning with his hand, and the warrior holding the other end of the rope let Ludmilla collapse to the ground.

  Wincing at the rope burns on her wrists, Ludmilla struggled to pull her pants up above her waist again, then she cried out, “Tatyana, please…they won't hurt you, Darling…the commander gives his word…please come out!” The evil commander snickered. Ludmilla repeated her plea, and after a few moments, Tatyana finally stood up. She screamed over to Ludmilla, “Lyev! Oh, Lyev! I'm frightened, my Love!” That sent all of the warriors into shrills of laughter.

  The commander chuckled as his men walked over calmly to the beautiful girl, mocking and mimicking her viciously. Even at this distance the awful man could see she was indeed a lovely prize. “Hmmm, so it's ‘Lyev’ is it? That's your name, boy?” he asked Ludmilla. Realizing again the importance of convincing the Tatars she was a man, Ludmilla replied quickly, bowing at the neck and shoulders, “Yes, my lord. I am your servant. But the girl and me…we’re not actually married yet.” She said this in an attempt to imply Tatyana was still a virgin.

  The commander snickered slyly, looking back at the girl being led from the field. The warriors didn't even bother binding her wrists. She was even shorter than them and posed no possible threat. They just led her by the arms back to their commander who reached up and stroked his thin mustache, twirling it in his fingers on one end then the other, as if making himself more presentable to a beautiful woman. It was all done in a facetious manner, too, and some of his men mimicked his gesture by straightening up like they were receiving a noble lady in court. They all snickered nastily. Tatyana was already sobbing as she neared them.

  “Well, no wonder you were hiding this beauty from us in your barley field. Can't blame you for that, I guess. You are brave for a peasant, though, my friend. I will spare both your lives today.” Then he turned to his men and shouted gruff orders at them.

  A Tatar nearby came over to Ludmilla and for apparently no reason at all kicked Ludmilla very hard in the back of the legs, causing her to collapse to the ground. And as Tatyana screamed in terror, another Tatar then stepped forward and clubbed Ludmilla on top of the head with the butt of his saber handle, knocking her almost unco
nscious. The blow hurt so incredibly bad, Ludmilla rolled over onto the ground groaning pitifully and nearly passed out from the shock of the impact.

  And that was about all she remembered for quite a while as the Tatars got to work stripping the farmhouse of supplies and bridling the family's draft horse to the wagon so they could load it up with feed for the army's horses. Meanwhile, three other Tatars got right to work on Tatyana. Their commander growled something to them in his native Tatar which apparently meant the frightened girl was to be…inspected.

  Ludmilla went in and out of consciousness for the next hour or so, vaguely hearing Tatyana screaming and crying out. It sounded in Ludmilla’s dazed mind almost like her ears were packed with mud due to the vicious blow to her cranium. The swelling in her brain distorted both sights and sounds as she struggled to remain cognizant. It sounded in her head like she was underwater and listening to her lover screaming for her from the bank of the creek while she was submerged. She could hear the men snarling and snickering, too.

  Ludmilla could only open her eyes a bit, but even then the blurry vision prevented her from making out very clearly what was happening to Tatyana. She could hear the commander admonishing his men repeatedly with orders to stop whatever they were doing to her. That's what it sounded like anyway. Ludmilla would hear fabric tearing or some filthy Tatar chuckling with delight at seeing part of Tatyana's exposed body while they inspected her for flaws or deformities. Then once it finally became apparent that she was still a virgin, the commander gruffly ordered his men to stop completely. That was clearly all he needed to find out. The naked, terrified, sobbing girl was finally given back her clothes and allowed to dress herself.