Daughter of the Raven

by Cherime MacFarlane

  Dmitri came out with Petyr in tow and sent the young man off to the kitchen with Dmi and Lexie. Turning, he smiled at Anya and Camille.

  "Ladies, come in and get settled. I feel this will take a while. We have many months to share."

  He moved three of the armchairs around the small round table which held the decanters. Dmitri seated Camille, then Anya, patting her shoulder as he did so.

  "I am having a brandy. What would you like?" Dmitri smiled at his wife and daughter.

  "A brandy cher. Please." Camille replied. "I am afraid sherry will not do today.

  "And for me please, Poppa." Anya made herself comfortable in the chair.

  Dmitri poured the liquor for them and handed the glasses around. Taking a seat, he looked at his daughter. "Anya, please tell us what happened. Start at the beginning, doch'."

  Anya took a sip of brandy, before beginning her story. Dmitri questioned her about Jurekovitch upon learning it was his former manager who kidnapped her. When he learned the man was occupying the old house on the estate, Dmitri only shook his head.

  "The ransom note did not get through." Dmitri took another drink.

  "Ah!" Anya nodded. "There were too many loopholes in his plan. I was afraid that might be the case. That is why I did not wait to see if anyone would pay a ransom."

  "A wise move, golubushka. I will show you the valise we received, later. There was blood spattered inside. Unfortunately, Charles and the security personnel at the embassy thought you had been murdered."

  "All this time you thought I was dead?" Anya exclaimed. "How horrid! Charles told you I was dead?"

  Dmitri wondered if he should tell her of Charles' disappearance, but decided to wait. "Charles was quite broken up about it. Your supposed death affected him greatly."

  Anya shook her head. "It is too bad he did not listen in the first place. I cannot stay married to the man. No matter how much he has changed, there is no longer a basis for a marriage." She rolled the brandy snifter between her palms carefully.

  Camille patted her arm. "We will talk about it in a moment. Tell us the rest please."

  Her escape and her trip up the Yenisey were heard without comment. How she had saved Petyr brought a gasp from Camille. Dmitri only nodded. Persecution of the Jews was ongoing. Neither his father nor his mother had condoned it, but he knew such things happened.

  The story of the canoe trip down the Lena to Yakutsk, caused Camille to cry silently while Dmitri cursed under his breath. The kindness of Losif and his family was related.

  "I do not think I could have made it to Okhotsk without his knowledge and help. It would have been a horrid trip without his guidance. The trail was almost obscured by snow. The streams are more dangerous than you can ever imagine. Had we waited for the snow to melt, as I am sure I would have done, we could have been washed away in a flood. The streams flood without warning. The melt water is held back by ice dams which suddenly give way, causing tons of water to scour the area clean."

  Dmitri nodded. "I have seen it in the interior here. The cutter which brought you here, how did that come about?"

  Anya told them about the herd of reindeer Losif had sold the year before. She explained the animals had been taken to Teller for the natives to raise.

  "Captain Healy was very nice, Poppa. He was to go to Sitka, but detoured here so I would not need to wait."

  Anya finished her brandy then looked at Dmitri. "Poppa, am I too big for you to hold?"

  "Never!" He pushed back his chair so she might have room. Anya climbed into his lap. With a sigh, she settled into his arms.

  "I had a dream Poppa. A very strange dream, before I ran away from Jurekovitch. I dreamed Ooskada came to me. He told me I was his now. I was to do as he had taught me. But Mother, Anya came, she told him to leave. She said I was her child and yours and he had no claim to me."

  The young woman snuggled deeper into her father's embrace. "Then she spoke to me. Mother told me I could use the old ways to find my way home, but not to use the other things. She told me she always wanted to see me grown. Mother said a worker would come, I was to listen to him. She vanished and I saw Petyr. I saw him before he appeared in the clearing."

  Dmitri silently held her. Camille watched as he rubbed his face against Anya's hair. She was silent as well while she waited for Anya to continue.

  "Petyr said he felt I was his "purpose" given to him by God. His family was all killed, but it was Petyr who told me the stories in the Bible. He told me I needed to forgive Charles and move on. Without Petyr I would be bitter and angry. I do forgive Charles, I can never live with him again, but I forgive him."

  "I have forgiven Jurekovitch as well. He is sick, his mind is not right. Let him be Poppa. He is living in poverty on the estate. There is nothing much left. He picks up nuggets from the stream to keep himself alive."

  "I have no plans to attempt to deal with Jurekovitch. He can live there until he dies or the government decides to do something. I am not going back to Russia."

  Dmitri stroked Anya's hair.

  "Anya, we have one problem with regard to Charles." Camille decided it was time to break the news to her. "He has vanished without a trace. None of our investigations have turned up anything. That is another reason Stanislaus is coming here. Before going to Sitka for the summer, we were to discuss what more could be done to find him."

  "Gone! How could that have happened?" Anya looked up at her father who nodded.

  "He did change Anya. He no longer wanted a political career. Instead he began helping the Mission house his church established for the Chinese. Charles helped to rescue those poor girls brought in as slaves. Somehow he ran afoul of one of the tongs and disappeared to save his skin."

  Camille shook her head. "I am not sure what drove him." She shrugged. "But, it caused him to risk his life for those less fortunate."

  The three of them fell silent in the study.

  Petyr was happy to walk around the area with the children. He had been introduced to the mechanics of the new bathroom and was in a state of amazement at the marvel. He offered to split the wood sitting outside, but Dmi waved his help off.

  "Poppa likes to do this." The child tugged on Petyr's hand. "Let's go into the stable. I have a pony, Poppa has a horse. Come, I will show you."

  The conversation in the study had ground to a halt. Anya lay in her father's arms. Camille had moved her chair beside them. She fiddled with Anya's hair, touching her face and arms repeatedly. They had eaten some of the large platter Ilyia had brought to them, before leaving for her home in the village.

  Lillette had rubbed the entire moose haunch with salt and herbs and the spit was set up outside. The kitchen was prepared for action in the morning. Kettles were on the burners and as soon as morning came, the stove would be lit and cooking would begin.

  Camille checked on Dmi and Lexie. They were in bed. It was time for them all to sleep. Dmitri and Anya were reluctant to give up. She understood, but they both needed rest. The coming day would be a long one.

  Camille kissed first Dmitri then Anya on the cheek. "It is time for bed. Dear, your room is ready and your clothing is in the trunk."

  She fingered the softness of the hide dress Anya still wore. "This is very nice. It would suit me for gardening."

  Reluctantly, Dmitri released his daughter.

  She stood up, turned and kissed her father. "Camille is correct Poppa. We both need to rest. Tomorrow will be a big day. I love you Poppa. I have missed you so much."

  He rose from the chair and hugged her once again. "Our voice of reason speaks." Dmitri snagged Camille, drawing her close to his side.

  "Good night, doch'. I have no words to tell you how very much I have missed you."

  Quietly, they walked up the stairs to their bedrooms. Anya had long ago taken over what had been Camille's old room. She smoothed the feather bed down with one hand. It would be interesting to see if she could now actually sleep in so soft a bed. But, was ready to give it a try.

  Dmi
tri walked over to the nightstand on his side of the bed. He picked up the 1miniature of his first wife, Anya, and stared at it for a moment before returning it to its place.

  "What do you think about her dream?"

  She walked over to him. Her slim fingers began to undo the buttons of his woolen shirt. "Nothing, cher. I leave that to God. I am only grateful she has returned."

  He unbuttoned the cuffs as she pulled the shirt from his pants. Camille turned, and lifted her hair from her back. When he had removed the shirt, Dmitri unbuttoned the dress for Camille.

  "It appears Petyr is largely responsible for the health of her spirit. He has been a good friend to her. We need to see what can be done to help him find some joy here." Dmitri pushed the bodice of her dress past Camille's shoulders as he spoke.

  She stepped out of the dress before pulling the slip over her head. "We will do that cher. In the meantime I require your attention. I am not sure I can sleep yet. I need your prescription for sleeplessness."

  Camille bounced onto the bed. With a smile she threw the bed covers to one side. "And be quick about it."

  The new day dawned with a hot blue sky. The house was thrown open as the cooking began for the feast. It was a celebration of joy the likes of which had not been seen on the island since the day of Dmitri's birth. Every family came to express their happiness over Anya's homecoming. Helena and Tatiana, both not able to ride had been brought to the party in the small surrey.

  Dmitri personally brought out the most comfortable chairs from the study to seat them next to the bonfire. Gregor on horseback, was escorted to the party by several of the young Tlingit men. They enjoyed themselves at the celebration until it was time to take the elder home.

  Many families brought food. There were pastries and preserves. Everyone ate until they could hold no more. When the older folk became tired, they were sent home with food.

  As twilight settled on the island, the fire was built up. Dmitri and Anya took turns playing dance music by the light of the fire as the vodka flowed freely.

  There was nothing left of the moose meat. The remaining crowd ate potatoes scooped from the pot with their fingers. Pieces of cabbage were plucked from the kettle as they continued to dance.

  It was very early in the morning when the fire finally was allowed to die and the last of the stragglers made their way home.

  With help from Anya and Camille, Bressoff went as far as moving the three chairs back into the study. The Count closed the front and back door, then staggered slightly as he followed the two weary women up to the second floor bedrooms. Anya laughed as she pushed too hard on her door and almost fell into the room.

  Dmitri and Camille leaned against each other for a moment when they entered their bedroom. They attempted to remove their clothing. With much giggling on her part and some amorous moves by Dmitri, which were doomed by the amount of vodka he had consumed, they fell into bed. She in her shift, Dmitri still in his socks, they wiggled under the covers and slept.

  In the days after the party, Petyr became better acquainted with the Bressoff family. He prayed and felt he was to remain where he was for the moment. Dmi and Lexie became his unofficial teachers.

  Lexie especially enjoyed working with him to expand the limited amount of English he had acquired from Anya. She was very patient with her pupil. Petyr was delighted with both of the children. He enjoyed being their companion as they roamed the area surrounding the house.

  Anya was pleased to see her almost constant companion, was settling into the family so easily. She had hoped he would find a welcome on the island. When not with the children, Petyr was in the study delving into the many Russian books there.

  Petyr lost his reserve mainly due to Lexie. She refused to worry about convention and would insist on being picked up by Petyr. Petyr lost his heart to the little girl who so obviously looked up to him. He was at peace.

  Later, when his language skills were better he would need to find something productive to do. For now, he would enjoy his time here.

  Anya watched the harbor. Often her gaze swept the entrance to their protected little cove. Stanislaus would soon arrive. No one was quite sure of the timetable. After all, the weather was always a factor. But, her anticipation grew as each day passed. Her heart constantly played a dance melody to the rhythm of Stanislaus is coming.

  The thought bounced around in her head. Anya felt as if it were bouncing off her heart. She was anxious to see him yet, terrified at one and the same time. What if she had waited too long? What if he had lost his heart to another?

  If it had happened, she would be happy for him. Anya told herself she would keep her need for him a secret, if he had found love elsewhere. She had played the fool allowed glamour to blind her to the one she needed most. Anya vowed that if Stanislaus were taken, he would never know she had finally come to her senses.

  Dmitri and Camille watched the play of emotions on her face as Anya went about daily life. They watched, as she would suddenly stop to stare at the ocean and the dock where Stanislaus would soon be landing.

  They decided to allow this to play out without any interference from them. It was something Anya and Stanislaus needed to work out between themselves. Once the couple had come to a decision to be together or to stay apart, then they would offer help.

  Anya woke to a lovely clear day. The rain of the past two days had moved on. The island had a freshly scrubbed look to it. The Arctic Tern bobbed at its accustomed place at the wharf.

  There was a slight breeze, which wafted the smell of the sea and the forest through the house. Both the front and back doors were open to allow the clean air to freshen the home. She was busy adding figures for her father and clearing up some entries in the big account book when she glanced out the study window.

  A puff of smoke off to the left of the channel rose upward. Anya knew there was a steamboat in the passage. Anticipation built as she realized the vessel was moving down channel toward Seattle.

  It might be coming from Sitka. She told herself as she went to stand in the open front door. Anya watched as the bow of the boat turned to make entrance into the harbor.

  Camille watched from their bedroom window. Seeing the ship begin to make the swing into the cove, she hurried down stairs.

  Dmitri saw the ship as he straightened up from stacking wood. Entering the back door to the kitchen, he met Camille in the hall. Holding hands, they moved into the study for a closer look at the vessel.

  With a toot of its whistle, the boat eased into the berth on the far side of the Arctic Tern. Anya shielded her eyes from the glare off the water with one hand. A light breeze blew her skirt around her legs. The gangplank was lowered.

  A large man walked down to the wharf with a carpetbag in hand. Turning to the ship, he waved as the gangplank was again raised. The ship turned slowly to leave the cove, reenter the Inside Passage and make its way to Seattle.

  Anya felt her blood begin to pound through her body. It was him.

  "Stanislaus!" Unaware that she had called his name aloud, she gathered her skirt in one hand as she bolted through the door.

  He heard her call. Stanislaus looked up, stunned. Unable to move he dropped the bag and stared at Anya as she raced toward him,

  "Anya, oh Anya." He whispered.

  She slammed into him. Staggering slightly, Stanislaus grabbed her by the waist and lifted her into the air as one would a baby. His hat flew away into the sea beside him. Her hands reached for him as he lowered her and fastened around his neck.

  Without thought Stanislaus hugged her to him and kissed her. Anya's hands dug into his hair. When he would have released her, she brought his head down to kiss him again.

  Anya could not believe how good he felt. His mouth was like the sweetest of all things. Still kissing her, Stanislaus lowered her to the planking and tried to release her. Anya refused to be deterred. Standing on tiptoe, she ran her hands through his wavy light brown hair and kissed him again.

  Stanislaus found it diffic
ult to remain standing and sat heavily on top of one of the pilings which supported the pier. Pulling her to him, Stanislaus stroked her back as she nestled between his legs.

  "Anya, my heart. God!" Stanislaus pulled away from her for a moment.

  She kissed him again before breaking away. "Sorry! I meant to ask if you were still free. I did not mean to act like a fool. I have done enough of that already."

  Anya tried to keep from touching him, but was not able to. She took his face between her hands. "Are you free Stanislaus? Did I wait too long?"

  His dark eyes stared into hers. "My heart, I have been yours from the first moment I saw you. I cannot give to another what I do not have. My heart has always been yours, from the day your father tied you to his desk."

  Anya looked at him in amazement. "When did he do that?"

  Stanislaus brushed both thumbs across her high cheekbones. "I think you were about four years old. You were a wild woman even then."

  He held her close. Burying her face in his neck, the young woman began to cry. Stanislaus ran his hands up and down her back. Never, ever, would he let her go, not again.

  Dmitri and Camille watched from the study. Tears were running down Camille's face as she clutched his hand. Dmitri sighed. He had been able to have Anya back for a few weeks. Shortly, she would be gone again. This time he knew who she was going to be joined with and was at peace.

  Stanislaus decided he would bunk on the Arctic Tern that night. After putting his bag away in the forward cabin, he and Anya sat in the sun at the stern of the schooner. With some reservation, Anya agreed to give him the entire story of her journey.

  She was reluctant to reveal all that had taken place, he understood her hesitation. Stanislaus had learned a great deal from Mr. Barrow and Dmitri. He could play poker with anyone. Screening his thoughts carefully, was now quite easy.

  Anya's narrative began in fits and starts. Several times she looked at his face to gage his reaction. Stanislaus carefully kept his face a bland mask. Inside, he was ready to rip Keetering apart with his bare hands.

  Slowly, she gained confidence. Then, she related the balance of the story in a quick and business-like manner. Stanislaus muttered the appropriate phrases in what he hoped were the proper places. The harrowing tale of the canoe trip down the Lena taxed his powers of detachment severely.