The Breathing Sea II - Drowning

by E. P. Clark

  Dasha tried to obey. She couldn’t help but feel, even with her eyes closed, that everyone was looking at her. Like as not they were wondering what kind of nonsense this was. She was supposed to have a great gift, she was supposed to be learning to do great magic, and here she was doing nothing but sit in the grass with her eyes closed. They must all be so disappointed in her. They must all wonder what kind of a Tsarinovna she was. A bad kind, that’s what. A proper Tsarinovna wouldn’t be sitting around while others did her scouting and dealt with invaders on her lands. Her foremothers wouldn’t have been sitting here behind a cart, they’d have been over there on the riverbank, watching the village themselves. Like as not the bolder ones, the ones whose names everybody knew, like Miroslava Praskovyevna, would have already led a party of warriors across the river and retaken the village. She would have gone straight down the bank—well, not straight: the path serpentined this way and that on its way down the cliff-like riverbank—and…would she have swum across the river? Yes, that’s what she would have done. They’d all just have swum across the river. The current wasn’t that strong. Her clothes were soaked through, but she felt in no danger of drowning. Occasionally things brushed against her legs, fish, maybe, or waterweeds, or the branches of trees—who knew?—but she paid them no mind, and they went their way as she went hers. As she drew near the far side of the river, a stronger current caught her, but she grabbed a hold of a log floating past, and with one hand on that and the other on her horse’s mane, she kicked her way to a sandbar, and pulled herself up onto that and then, pausing for a moment to wring out her clothes as best she could and pull her boots back on, jumped on her horse’s back and urged him over the riverbank, which was no higher than his knees there, and towards the village. She could smell the smoke very strongly now. It smelled not only of burnt wood, but of burnt flesh as well. Human flesh. She’d smelled it before. This was not the first sacked village she’d seen. Her mind ranged on ahead of her, and searched through the village, finding nothing but a few frightened inhabitants hiding in cellars and under beds. There was no danger for her here. She could ride in and set things to rights without fear.

  Are you sure of that?

  A creature came stalking out of the village. At first she thought it was a wolf, an enormous wolf, and then she realized it was a dog, a huge dog, bigger than the biggest wolfhound she’d ever seen. Or was it? Its eyes were not dog-like. They were like black shiny buttons, and the face was more like a cat’s, or maybe an old woman’s. It rose up onto its hind paws, making it look even more human.

  Welcome, it said. We have been waiting for you.

  “AKH!” Dasha jumped and half fell over.

  “Tsarinovna! Did you have a fit?”

  “No. I don’t think so. Not exactly. I think I…saw something.”

  “A vision?”

  “Of sorts. It was about the village. It was like I was…it was like I was Miroslava Praskovyevna, only I was also me, and I could see into the village from afar, just the way she was supposed to be able to do, and I could see that the raiders were gone, so I went riding up, only something…a domovaya, I think, only a much bigger one, a much more frightening one, than any I’ve ever seen before, came out to meet me. It told me they had been waiting for me. And then I…woke up.”

  “I see.” Sister Asya looked unaccustomedly grave. “Do you think you could return to the vision, Tsarinovna?”

  “Return to it? I…I don’t know. I’m not very good at that. Or at any of it.”

  Sister Asya’s lips tightened, and Dasha could tell that she had irritated her with her statement that she wasn’t very good at controlling her visions. But it was true! What was she supposed to do, lie?

  “I could try, I suppose,” she offered in a small voice.

  “Yes…no one has ever taught you how to do that, have they? Not properly. You’ve never met anyone who can farsee, or foresee, have you? Only women of your family have the ability, in general, and no one of your line has had the gift, the true gift, in generations. Miroslava Praskovyevna said it came to her as effortlessly as breathing. Of course,” Sister Asya gave her a small smile, “we cannot trust everything that Miroslava Praskovyevna said. She was unlikely to admit to a struggle or a weakness. But let us try this. Close your eyes. That’s right. And now go back to what you were seeing. Pretend that it is a tale you are reading, and return to where you left off, just as if you were reading a book. Perhaps you will need to reread a line or two, to help you remember. Just as if you were reading a book. Let your mind return to the story, let the pictures fill your eyes…”

  Welcome, said the creature. We have been waiting for you.

  “Are you a domovaya?” she asked.

  Well spotted.

  “Why are you so large? Normally you’re smaller. And not so fierce-looking.”

  We protect the home and hearth. Normally we have no need to be large and fierce. But when our home and hearth are threatened, we become threatening in turn.

  “Who did this? Was it raiders?”

  Yes.

  “Are they still here?”

  No. They are gone. But they are not far off.

  “Can you lead me to them?”

  We can. But first you must help our people. First you must rescue those who need rescuing, before you set off on your quest of vengeance.

  “We will come directly.”

  Be sure that you do. We cannot wait much longer. Soon the thirst for vengeance will overcome even us. Even a hearthfire is dangerous if it burns too hot.

  Dasha opened her eyes. “The domovaya said the raiders are gone,” she said.

  “Go tell your father, and Olga Vasilisovna, then,” said Sister Asya.

  “I don’t think they’ll be very happy with me if I leave the circle,” Dasha said. “Maybe someone else should go to them.”

  Sister Asya nodded and jumped to her feet. “I’ll be back directly, Tsarinovna,” she promised.

  In fact it took quite a while for her to return, and when she did, with Oleg in tow, he did not look particularly pleased. “Sister Asya says you had a vision?” he said. “About the village?”

  Dasha nodded.

  “Are you sure? That it was a true vision?”

  “Well…”

  Oleg gave her a look that said he was having a very hard time not shouting at her for bothering him and dragging him away from something important. She could feel herself shrinking down, and an apology was trying to fight free of her lips.

  “I believe it was a true vision, as true as a vision can be,” she told him. “Have you seen any sign of raiders?”

  He shook his head.

  “And the villagers?”

  “All dead, or in hiding.”

  “We should go down, then.”

  “It could be dangerous. The raiders could be lying in wait for us.”

  “Why would they do that? Why would they suspect us of coming? They have no way of knowing we’re here.”

  “True,” said Oleg slowly.

  “And what are we going to do, wait until dark? Climb down there and cross the river in the middle of the night? That is hardly a good choice either.”

  “Also true,” agreed Oleg. “What did the vision show you?”

  Dasha described it to him as best she could, skipping over the river crossing, since she thought that was for her, not for him, but emphasizing the part where she/Miroslava Praskovyevna had sent her mind ranging ahead and seen no sign of the raiders, and again where the angry domovaya had assured her that no raiders were there, but that there were villagers in need of their aid, and if they did not come soon, the domoviye would take matters into their own hands.

  “Maybe they should,” said Oleg. “They’d do a far sight better than we would, I’d think.”

  “They don’t think so.”

  He sighed. “Very well,” he said. “We’ll go down. But you are to stay back here, under guard, do you understand? Wait here until we send for you. Under no circumstances are you to go h
aring off on your own.”

  “I don’t go haring off on my own!” Dasha cried.

  “True enough. Not normally. So don’t do it now. Just stay here with Mitya and Alik and Seva and Susanna and Svetochka and Sister Asya, and wait for us to tell you that it’s safe to come down.”

  This was irksome, but Dasha had to admit the justice of it—she was unlikely to do much good when they first entered the village, and everyone would be worried about protecting her—and at least she had the satisfaction of seeing that Susanna was even more irked than she was. Svetochka appeared not to care so much, although, after they had sat there for what seemed like half the afternoon, and everyone was getting very restless, she did start casting angry looks in Birgit’s direction.

  “We shouldn’t’ve brought her,” she said to Dasha. “She should be locked up, or killed, or something. We shouldn’t be treating her like some noblewoman.”

  “She is locked up,” said Dasha. “She’s chained to her bench. Noblewomen aren’t normally chained up like that. And you just told me that you wanted to help people, so why do you want to hurt someone now?”

  Svetochka gave her a look that said she was being willfully obtuse, and said, “It’s just not right! We’ve chained up them,” she nodded towards Ratibor and Yaromir, in the far cart, “an’ they’re our own people! We’re punishing ‘em for defending our own people, an’ rescuing our attackers. I want to help our own people, not these foreigners!”

  “Birgit never attacked anyone,” Dasha said. “She was just trying to get away from those who would attack her. And they are rapists and killers. I don’t want them as my people.”

  “But they are! She’s not, an’ they are, an’ you can’t get rid of ‘em! You can’t get rid of ‘em any more ‘n you can me or Susanna or anyone else who ain’t good enough for you! You think we’re all barbarians, even your own people, even your own sister an’ your aunt an’ your father, an’ you’d get rid of all of us if you could, an’, an’ join up with foreigners, with animals, just ‘cause you think they’re more like you ‘n we are! Well they’re not! No one’s like you; we’re all barbarians, an’ you’ll always be alone, so stop trying to, to, to deny who you are, who your people are, just ‘cause you think you’re better ‘n us!”

  “I don’t think I’m better than you!” cried Dasha.

  “You do!”

  “I…” Dasha realized that everyone was, of course, watching them. Even Birgit, who couldn’t understand a word they were saying, was watching them. “I don’t want to think I’m better than you, than anyone,” she said. “But I am the Tsarinovna. I’m the one who has to stand in front, I’m the one who has to lead the way.”

  “Right now you’re not standing in front! Right now you’re standing in the back, an’ letting others face all the danger for you!”

  “Yes, but…that’s not because I want to, that’s because…there are lots of people who can ride into that village and face whatever’s there. Olga Vasilisovna, and Oleg Svetoslavovich, and Vadim Sofiyevich—they can all do it, and better than I can. But none of them can…”

  “What? Have fits an’ failed visions?”

  “No,” said Dasha. “Have true visions. About where Zem’ should be going. Not just today, but a year from now, or a generation from now. I think I’m supposed to look far to the future, Svetochka, which means I can’t spend too much time here in the present. There are others who can do that. But I think I’m the one who has to look to the future.”

  Svetochka opened her mouth to say something really cutting, and the argument looked to be in danger of spiraling out of control, but fortunately Oleg came riding up just then, his face grim and drawn.

  “What is it?” Dasha asked.

  “It’s bad,” he told her. “We’ve searched the village, and the raiders look to be long gone. But so do most of the villagers. The ones we found were too young or old or sick to flee. Or dead. At least a dozen dead that we’ve found so far. Some cut down as they were trying to run, some trapped in buildings that were set afire.”

  Svetochka gave Dasha a triumphant look. Dasha wanted to glare back at her, but made herself say instead, “If it’s safe we should all go down, then, so that we can help. And perhaps the others will come back soon.”

  “You don’t want to see it,” Oleg warned her. “Wait till we’ve cleaned things up a bit before you come down.”

  “I don’t want to see it, but I should. These are my people. If they can suffer it, then I can look at it. And I should see it, so that I can report back to my mother and the Princess Council.”

  Oleg didn’t look happy at that thought, but Dasha insisted, and in the end he saw the sense in what she was saying, and agreed that they could all come down to the village.

  “We’ll have to leave the carts behind,” he said. “There’s no way we’ll get them down the path down the bank. The crossing for carts is at least a verst downstream. We’ll have to scout it out before we can use it. Lyokha and Mitrofan, you stay here with the carts and we’ll send for you when it’s safe to come. The rest of you can come back with me if you want to.”

  Everyone wanted to, even though they all knew the sight awaiting them on the other side of the river would not be pleasant, but now, after sitting all day and doing nothing, the thought held less terror than it might have otherwise. It continued to be not so bad as they rode across the field up to the edge of the riverbank, from where they could see the village. The smoke rising from the ruined buildings made the thought of what they were about to see much less attractive, but, Dasha could tell by looking her companions, even though none of them wanted to see what they were about to see, they didn’t want to admit to their weakness and turn back, either. So they all started down the steep riverbank path.

  The riverbank was an overhanging cliff at this point, at least thirty or forty yards high, Dasha guessed. A breeze was blowing across it from the West, cool enough to make them shiver despite the sun that was still hovering above the horizon, filling the whole sky with pink and orange. It would have been a glorious sight if it hadn’t been marred by the tricky descent that stood before them. Over the years a zigzagging path had been cut into the soft earth of the riverbank, and so now it was possible to half-walk, half-slide down it. Which they did, one at a time. Oleg went first, followed by Sister Asya on Minochka, who proved that mules, as ungainly as they looked, were even more surefooted than horses, as she made her way to the bottom without a single stumble. Then it was Dasha’s turn.

  She told herself it would be easy, but her heart was in her throat before she and Poloska were a third of the way down. She made herself raise her eyes up from the path in front of her, the sight of which was making her feel that she was about to tumble off over Poloska’s neck and go crashing down to the bottom of the riverbed below, and look out across the plain beyond. There was the smoking village, and green fields in the deepest flush of summer growth, before the hay and rye and wheat began to dry up for the harvest, and more forest beyond that. She felt as if she could float up out of her saddle and go flying across the river, the fields, the forest, straight across Zem’ to the sea that she knew lay beyond, into which she would dive like a bird…

  “Watch out!” Oleg shouted, as Poloska stumbled, her body dropping sickeningly out from under Dasha before she regained her footing and began inching her way cautiously forward again. Soon the far side of the river was out of sight, and her vision was filled with nothing but its flowing water.

  “That was close,” Oleg said, as soon as she reached the flat sandbank at the bottom of the bank. Worry lines were standing out sharply around his eyes. “You should be more careful.” When Dasha gave him a look, he had the grace to look abashed, and said, “I suppose you were as careful as you could be. But why is it always you who has these accidents?”

  Before Dasha could answer him, Chernets, who had dealt with the enforced waiting in the camp and the further enforced waiting at the top of the riverbank no more patiently than Susanna had, p
lunged off the edge of the cliff, and, snorting and leaping, came sliding straight down, eschewing the path in favor of a direct descent.

  Dasha and Oleg shared a smile. “You may have a point,” he said. “I’m just being foolish. Thank the gods I’m not Susanna’s father, or my heart would have given out long ago.”

  “Susanna is much more like you than I am,” Dasha said, which was the closest she could come to saying that she had been assuming that he would prefer Susanna as his daughter.

  “Yes, and I now pity everyone who’s ever had anything to do with me,” said Oleg. “Svetochka! Grab the saddle before you fall onto your head!”

  Svetochka made her way down without actually falling off, although it was a very near thing and Dasha bit her lip till it bled at one point, and then Alik came down last, without any trouble at all.

  “We’ll have to take the boat in turns,” Oleg told them. “It won’t hold more than two or three at a time. Sister Asya, you and Susanna can cross first. Dasha and I will come next, and then Alik and Svetochka.”

  It was hot and still down by the water, with a strong scent of sand and riverwater. Little midges were dancing on the water’s surface and across the sandbar on which they stood, making the horses stamp their feet in irritation. They stood there in silence while Sister Asya and Susanna convinced Minochka (easily) and Chernets (with difficulty) to step onto the little ferry, which was no more than a raft with not so much as a siderail, and then Sister Asya began hauling on the rope to pull them across.

  “The raiders must have come from the other direction,” Dasha said suddenly.

  Oleg turned to look at her.

  “They must have come from the other direction,” she repeated. “No one could attack from this direction. Or escape. They must still be on the other side of the river.”

  “Like as not,” he agreed. “Probably in the woods. They wouldn’t have gone far.”

  That was a very uncomfortable thought, which was interrupted by Sister Asya and Susanna reaching the far side of the river, and Oleg pulling the ferry back to their side, and then they had to get on it. It had looked large and solid when Sister Asya and Susanna were on it, but as soon as it was Dasha’s turn to lead Poloska onto it, it looked tiny, barely big enough for two horses, let alone three, and with nothing to hold on to. Poloska shared Dasha’s doubts, but, after Oleg had led Belka onto it, Poloska agreed to follow, and Seryozha after. The ferry dipped under them as they stepped onto it, and then swayed in the current and rose up and down as they set off.