by Janet Dailey
She hesitated a moment. “The storytellers say Strong Man believed we should live in peace with the Cossacks.”
“He was a wise man.” A feeling of satisfaction took the edge off his tension. The winds seemed to be blowing his way. He smiled warmly at Tasha, realizing that she could be valuable in his meeting with the chief.
His men fell in behind them as they approached the chief. After greeting the mustached Aleut, Andrei explained the reason for Tasha’s presence at his side, concerned that Many Whiskers might object to the inclusion of a woman in their talks, but the chief nodded his approval.
“Soon my vessel will be sailing from your bay to the islands in the east. You are an important chief on Attu. Your name is spoken with respect on other islands.” Andrei had no idea whether that was true or not, but a little flattery never hurt. He waited until Tasha had finished her translation, then continued. “I wish to carry your greetings when I visit the villages to the east, so they will know we lived together in peace and traded fairly with one another.”
Andrei knew the chief understood much of what he said in Russian, but he listened patiently to Tasha’s translation of it. His command of Aleut was limited, but Andrei detected a few words of embellishment that Tasha added and realized he had an ally.
“The name of Andrei Nikolaivich Tolstykh is also known in the islands as one who does not cheat the Aleuts.” Tasha provided a Russian translation of the chief’s response, much of which he had understood. “That cannot be said of many of the Cossacks who come to hunt and trade on our island.”
Andrei had previously encountered the ill will created by other Russians out of greed. “It is important for the Aleuts on the islands I visit, to know that I come in peace and friendship. If Many Whiskers will consent to sending interpreters from his village with me, they can not only translate my words for me, but they can also speak from their own knowledge of my fairness in trading and my desire for peace with the Aleuts.”
“I have come to a decision on this.” Tasha translated Many Whiskers’ response, then paused to await the rest of it. Andrei schooled himself not to react, no matter which way it went. “He has chosen my brother, Walks Straight, to accompany you.” He was both relieved and disappointed by the decision. One was better than none, yet he preferred to have a minimum of two Aleuts with him. “He regrets that he cannot spare more hunters to go with you.”
“Tell him I understand.”
“Many Whiskers says that my brother is a good hunter and can help you find the islands where the sea otter are plentiful. And my brother understands the words of your tongue much better than Many Whiskers does.” She ceased a verbatim translation of the explanation. “It is also known that he does not like Cossacks. For him to speak in favor of you will carry much weight.”
Unconsciously, Andrei nodded approval, admiring the shrewd reasoning behind the choice. As the chief continued to speak, Andrei missed what he said and had to wait for Tasha to relay it to him.
“Many Whiskers says also that you will need a woman to cook and sew for you, and the women in the eastern islands do not know how to prepare the food the way the Cossacks like it.” She suddenly appeared stunned. Instead of concentrating on the chief as she had been doing, she turned to him, her dark eyes wide with surprise. “He says he knows your Cossack wife did not come with you … that she stayed in your land across the waters. Since you will have need of one … he offers me as your second wife. As a token of his friendship. He asks no gifts in return.”
Equally stunned, Andrei stared at Tasha. The chief had to know that he was not averse to the company of a native woman in his bed. During his previous visit to the island, he had obtained one for a few presents to her family. By Aleut custom, she had been his wife. They had no marriage ceremony as such. The contract was sealed by the presenting of gifts to the woman’s parents. Andrei also knew that to refuse the chief’s generosity in this case would be tantamount to an insult. He was thankful that the chief continued to speak, allowing him more time to think.
“He says that I make fine parkas and know how to cook food the Cossack way. He says also that I can be of use to you in speaking your words to the villagers in the eastern islands. He knows that you will treat me well and be a good husband.” She blushed slightly. “He also says you will find the women of Attu are much more pleasing to the eye than the women on other islands.”
Pleasing to the eye seemed an understatement to Andrei as he gazed at Tasha. With difficulty, he refocused his attention on the chief, trying not to think of the long months—and long nights—ahead.
“Tell your chief that I am overwhelmed by his generosity—and very pleased. He does me great honor and I accept his wise decision. Please inform him that I wish to sail with tomorrow’s tide.”
CHAPTER X
Overhead, mewling seabirds wheeled, their ivory wings flashing white against a backdrop of gray clouds. Leaping and diving, a porpoise swam alongside the vessel’s bow as though escorting it out of the bay. A steady wind bellied the sails. Tasha turned her face into the wind and gazed at the wide stretch of sand, the bidarkas lined up on the shore. From this distance, the outline of her village was barely discernible and then only because she knew where to look.
Her heart ached to be leaving all that was familiar to her—the island, her home, and family—her mother and old Weaver Woman most of all. But her regret wasn’t equal to the excitement she felt. Hunters frequently traveled to other islands to trade or visit, but women seldom went unless the whole family, sometimes the whole village, made the journey. Tasha hadn’t been off the island since she was a little girl. Then it had been a trip to nearby Agattu to visit her mother’s family. Now, she was on her way to some unknown destination. Andrei Tolstykh, her new husband, had indicated to Many Whiskers that it might be as many as two summers before he returned to Attu.
Turning, she asked her brother, “Where will we go?”
“I have told the Cossack about Adak and the small islands clustered around it where the sea otter live in large numbers.” The reluctance with which he had imparted the information was evident in the flat tone of his voice. Walks Straight did not share Tasha’s enthusiasm for this adventure.
“The hunting will be good there.”
“If the villages give him permission to hunt in their territory,” added Walks Straight.
“They will. He will give them gifts in exchange, and we will tell them that he seeks to trade with them and live in peace.” She saw the skepticism in his look. “You know this is true. He is not like the others.”
“No,” he conceded grudgingly. “But he is a Cossack. Don’t trust him too much.”
Lately when he looked at his sister, vague memories stirred of another time when the Scar-Eyed One had made his mother cry. Now Tolstykh was her husband. He didn’t want his sister hurt, yet he felt powerless to prevent it. And he hated the Cossacks for making him feel this way. He had agreed to accompany the smooth-faced commander partly to honor the wishes of Many Whiskers and his mother, but mainly he hoped that by leading the Cossacks to new hunting grounds, they would all eventually leave his home island.
Walks Straight could tell by the look in Tasha’s big dark eyes that she paid little heed to his warning. She never looked beyond the sky color of the Cossack’s eyes to see the selfish greed. Before the Cossacks came, the Aleuts never killed just to take an animal’s skin. Now they killed the otter, took its fur, and threw its body to the sharks. It was not their way, and the Cossacks were to blame.
But his sister was a woman. She couldn’t understand that the life of a hunter was tied to that of his prey. Still he tried. “To the Cossack, an Aleut is like the sea otter. When they have taken what they want from him, they will throw the rest away.”
The waves crested to six feet in the heavy-running sea. When the vessel breasted the first of them and it broke across the bow, Tasha felt a rush of exhilaration. The journey had begun. She stood at the rail watching the roll of the sea and listeni
ng to the straining groans of the boat’s timbers as it slammed into another wave.
Within an hour, her head was pounding dully. The constant pitching of the vessel made the horizon go up and down with sickening regularity. The undulating motion made her stomach churn. She started feeling hot, and perspiration coated her skin. Moving closer to the bow, she let the sea spray cool her face, but it didn’t ease the rising pressure in her stomach. Her knees felt strangely weak.
It slowly came to her that she was getting seasick. The symptoms she had were the ones Weaver Woman had described when she told about two Aleut hunters on Attu who suffered from this malady. Tasha struggled to control her growing queasiness and tried to fix her gaze on some object that didn’t move, but her senses constantly told her of the heaving motion of the deck. They didn’t alert her, however, to the sound of approaching footsteps.
Once they were clear of the offshore reefs and well out to sea, Andrei ordered his mate to set an easterly course and relaxed his vigilance. He knew the dangers of this ocean, the quick onset of its fogs, high winds, and storms; and he took his time of ease whenever it came. As he left the mate at the helm, Andrei noticed Tasha standing at the bow, poised like a figurehead, her face lifted to the spray. The sight awakened fires in him that had long lain dormant. He walked to the bow.
“The winds favor us.” At the sound of his voice, she swung around. Andrei had a brief glimpse of the pallor of her face and the hugeness of her eyes.
A second later, she turned back and reached for the rail, to lean over the side. Thinking that she intended to throw herself overboard, Andrei grabbed for her. As his hands caught her shoulders, he felt the convulsive heave of her body and heard the retching sound she made. The vomiting spasms came one after the other until she finally sagged against the rail, too weak to support herself.
His hands continued to steady her against the pitching and rolling of the vessel. Reaching inside his heavy coat, he took out his kerchief and wiped the spittle from the corners of her mouth and chin. She was drenched with sweat, but her skin felt clammy to the touch. She murmured some sound of gratitude, the words unintelligible.
A pair of callus-toughened feet entered his side vision, sticking out from the length of an inverted bird-skin parka, the red-ocher-dyed skin to the outside. Andrei looked up at Walks Straight and met the accusing glare of his eyes.
“She is seasick,” he announced.
The Aleut’s glance swept Tasha’s pale face as if to confirm it, then he grunted something and walked off, apparently indifferent to her illness. But her weakened state aroused Andrei’s protective male instincts.
He motioned to one of the promyshleniki on deck to come help him, then said to Tasha, “We will take you below where you can lie down.” Her head moved, but he wasn’t sure it was an acknowledgment.
The continuous rise and fall of the vessel made it difficult to keep their balance as Andrei and the promyshlenik lifted Tasha to her feet. She made a feeble attempt to help them, but the effort was almost more of a hindrance. She moaned softly as they worked their way across the lurching deck to the hatchway, her slack body leaning into Andrei.
The hatchway wasn’t wide enough for three. Andrei nodded a dismissal to the Russian hunter. “I will take her from here.” He half scooped her limp body into his arms and carried her down the steps.
Pausing outside his cabin, he kicked the door open and maneuvered them inside his quarters. Her head lolled against his jaw, the texture of her hair silken against his skin. He glanced down at her as she moaned again, then carried her to his bunk and set her down.
Andrei knew that he’d been wanting her in his bed, but this wasn’t the circumstance he’d had in mind. Sweat beaded on her forehead and above her lips as she sat on the side of the bunk barely able to hold herself upright. Andrei glanced at the long fur parka she wore, remarkably unstained by vomit.
“Let’s take this off,” he muttered, mainly to himself, since he doubted she was in any condition to understand him.
After some difficulty, he managed to get it over her hips. After that it was easy to pull it over her head. Briefly he was treated to the sight of her nude body, the young upward thrust of her breasts. She swayed without his support, and he reached out to steady her, feeling the firmness of her flesh, a sensation he hadn’t enjoyed in some time. His wife’s body had long been flaccid, and there were few whores in Siberia who were not fat or infected or starving bags of bones. Siberia was a place where young women quickly became old. A rich man like himself had his choice, but the pickings were slim.
A groan came from Tasha’s throat. She looked at him, her eyes appearing as round as saucers. Suddenly she clamped a hand over her mouth. Reacting swiftly, Andrei grabbed the chamber pot and lifted its lid in time to catch the spewed vomit.
When she had finished, he laid her down on the bunk and reluctantly covered her naked body with a blanket. He moved away to moisten a cloth with water from the container in his cabin, then came back to the bunk to wipe her damp face. She lay motionless with her eyes closed, the fringe of black lashes making long shadows on her pale skin. Andrei noticed she was lying on the knot of her hair and gently reached beneath her head to loosen the confining bun. He fanned it away from her face, letting the smooth strands slide through his fingers.
“I feel so sick,” she murmured weakly.
“I know you do.” Andrei folded the damp cloth and laid it across her brow.
Rising, he looked at her a moment, then walked over to the table where his charts of the island chain were spread out. He studied them again, searching to see if there was another cluster of islands besides the one he’d found that matched the description Walks Straight had given him.
Several more times she threw up, until there was nothing left in her stomach except bile. Eventually exhaustion claimed her and she fell asleep. Andrei remained in the cabin a while longer, then went topside to check on their course. He stayed on deck only a short time, drawn back to his quarters by the thought of Tasha lying in his bunk.
Come evening, she was racked by dry heaves. Andrei had some broth prepared for her and fed her a spoonful every few minutes. Some of it eventually came up. It wasn’t compassion or pity that kept him in the cabin. Andrei guessed it was the opportunity to indulge in his growing fascination for this Creole—to stare for as long as he liked at the curve of her cheekbone or the nipple of an exposed breast, and to imagine whatever he chose.
A knock sounded on his cabin door. “Yes, what is it?” Andrei demanded.
“It’s fog, sir, thick as curdled cream.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Andrei waited for the footsteps to retreat, then walked over to the bunk and tucked the blanket around Tasha once more. She moaned softly in her sleep. He stroked her cheek with his finger, her skin so smooth and cool to his touch. She stirred. Reluctantly he turned and left the cabin.
On the deck, a dense fog swathed the vessel, obscuring the outline of the bow and hiding the top of the masts. Visibility was reduced to a few yards. An eerie stillness heightened every sound. The clump of his boots rang hollowly on the slick deck as Andrei moved to the helm. Wisps of mist swirled around him, disturbed by his passing, while water dripped from the sails. Only the motion of the deck and the slap of the waves against the wooden hull confirmed they were still at sea and not drifting on some ghostly cloud.
The compass indicated the vessel was maintaining its easterly heading, but it was impossible to see what was ahead of them. According to his charts, all islands were supposed to be to the south of their present course, but the map details were sketchy at best. Andrei did not need to warn any of the men to be alert for the crash of breakers or the presence of kelp beds that would mean they were near land. The blinding fog made them all vigilant.
It was well into the early hours of the morning before Andrei returned to his cabin, satisfied his vessel was in no immediate danger. Tasha lay draped along the side of the bunk, uncovered from the waist u
p. The sight of her body aroused a surge of energy that overcame his tiredness. But however great the temptation to crawl into the bunk with her, the smell of vomit was a sufficient deterrent.
Finding her nudity too much of a temptation to resist, Andrei took one of his cotton shirts from his sea chest and slipped it on her. Her lashes fluttered open once when he lifted her and pushed an arm through a sleeve. After fastening some of the buttons, he let his hand cup the jutting roundness of a breast, feeling the way it filled his palm. She moaned, turning her head to the side. Grimly he recognized that the low sound came from her sickness, not from pleasure.
He pushed to his feet and gathered up the extra blanket on the bunk, then walked to the lamp swaying from a cross beam. He turned down the wick, allowing only a small flame to throw off a dim glow. The lurking shadows immediately closed in. Wrapped in the blanket, he sprawled in the chair, letting the dipping swing of the boat rock him. Sleep was a long time coming as he stared at the female in his bunk—his native bride.
For an entire week, Andrei spent the bulk of his time in the cabin, where Tasha alternated between bouts of violent seasickness and a nauseated stupor. She had lucid times when she objected to being spoon-fed the broth or gruel he’d had prepared for her and tried to do it herself, but she hadn’t the strength. Twice he bathed her, the motion of his hand invariably becoming a caress.
Several times her Aleut half brother entered the cabin unannounced to see how she was. Andrei always detected an element of distrust in the young man’s eyes, but the Aleut never said anything, simply lingered a few minutes and then left. There was no doubt in Andrei’s mind that Walks Straight didn’t like Russians. Even without the chief’s saying so, he would have known it. The native hunter had held himself aloof from the whole company during the voyage thus far. Sometimes Andrei wondered how much he could trust him, but it was plain that the Aleut thought a great deal of his half sister. As long as Andrei had her, he had a hold over him.
