Tsarina

by Ellen Alpsten

  ‘Did Peter meet Anna Mons in the German Quarter?’ I asked, and Caroline shot me a warning glance. This was definitely not for Agneta’s ears.

  Ernst smiled. ‘Ah, women, always interested in love stories. Yes, I suppose that is where he met her, just before Sophia banished him to a village far from Moscow and from any source of power, or so she thought. He, however, took his friends along with him and built up an army to counter hers, a state within the state. Before she knew it, he had men and arms, was married to the daughter of a respectable Russian family, had a son and heir, and had reached his majority.’

  ‘What happened to Peter’s wife?’ I continued.

  ‘Evdokia Lopukina? The poor soul. From their three sons, only Alexey was to live. Two years’ ago Peter sent her to a remote nunnery after she refused him a divorce. He is said to have pleaded with her for hours, but to no avail. She’s rat fodder for all her pride while Anna Mons has the time of her life. But she’s given Peter no child so far, so who knows what will happen next?’

  Caroline shivered. ‘Poor Evdokia. How terrible, to bury such a young woman alive. Why didn’t he send her back to her family?’

  Which brought the Glucks to one of their favourite subjects of conversation: whether divorce should be allowed or not.

  The year passed slowly with many small battles between the armies and the people caught in the middle had no peace and little food. I just hoped that my family had escaped with the great famine of last summer after I had been sold and had been spared the war, now living elsewhere in safety and good health. It had been almost three years since I’d left home. I had turned sixteen. Maggie would be seven years old by now, Fyodor almost a man, and Christina for sure married and a mother herself. Every night, I hoped that their life was as blessed as mine was with the Glucks.

  16

  We decorated the church for Harvest Festival, all the women together. Despite the shortages people brought in sheaves of grain, jars of stewed fruit or pickled vegetables, smoked fish and meat, and twigs of sweet-smelling wood, which we tied together with colourful ribbons. The dozens of home-made candles burnt brightly: we had worked in the evenings, moulding them from beeswax, as the best fat for candles was to be found in whales’ heads, but that was very dear and hard to come by.

  The pews and floorboards were shiny and clean when the congregation flocked in, and the church air fragrant from the offerings. The men and women were well dressed, though you could only tell that from the cut of the cloth and the thickness of the fabric. Lutherans didn’t dress like Russians, who praise their Lord by dripping with velvet, gold and silver. Cleanliness was more important than riches, and the only signs of vanity on show were the vast white lace collars the married women wore. Young girls tied colourful scarves around their waists, and pearls shimmered in their earlobes as well as on their necks. Their hair was plaited into braids and wrapped around their heads like crowns. These girls entered the church with cheeks flushed from the winter cold and pretended not even to notice the young men who were present, though I saw a few of them discreetly casting glances at Anton and Frederic. I had polished their boots to a shine and their breeches were so tight that you could see the muscles of their long, strong legs. They and their friends in turn pretended not to notice the girls, only to eye them up later when they took their places in the pews among their families.

  It was a world I would never fully be part of. The Glucks were kind, more kind than I could have hoped, but I would never be courted by these boys from their respectable families. I would not be a bashful maiden guarded by her family, who would never dream of selling a child for a single piece of silver. I was feeling sorry for myself to be sure, and it must have shown on my face. When I looked to the side, I saw Anton smiling at me. He winked and a feeling of warmth ran through me. I did belong here. Maybe someday I would belong even more.

  Anton was looking right at me, his gaze scalding. I didn’t hear a word of the service after that. As the elder son, it had recently been decided he was to start work with a Marienburg merchant in spring. Then he could start to think about having his own family. But at the thought of him leaving the house, ready to settle down with another girl, one he loved and honoured, I almost gasped at my own sudden despair. When the congregation’s voices joined in a hymn, I heard it as though from far away. I rose with the others, my knees trembling, without paying attention to the service; when I sat down again, Anton’s fingers grazed my hand. I fought back a smile. His fingers held mine, hidden deep in the folds of my dress so that no one around us could see, not even Agneta or Caroline at the end of the pew.

  My heart was racing behind my tightly laced bodice but I was attempting to keep a pious expression on my face when I half turned in my seat and met the gaze of a tall blond stranger seated in the pew behind Anton and me. I blushed even deeper: had he noticed anything? I turned away without giving him another glance. The pastor stepped out of the small altar chamber, the congregation rose and the service started. Only when the last hymn was over, and we knelt in prayer, did Anton let go of my hand.

  I turned around and caught Caroline’s eye. God had already given me more than I could have hoped for, I reminded myself. I must not lose the family that had accepted me.

  17

  In the following days Anton and I lived for every moment we could snatch together. He spent the mornings studying with his father while I cleaned, and then he’d put on his best attire before presenting himself to one Marienburg merchant after the other. But with war declared and the rival armies encamped, ready to strike, making all travel and trade dangerous, finding employment wasn’t easy. Still, somehow he could leave the house just when I had to go on an errand or come to the church when I was there alone, tidying it. I’d drop my work there and then: we’d talk and laugh, hold each other tight – and yes, we’d kiss, kiss, kiss, our lips brushing against each other’s and our warm breath mingling in the cold of the nave.

  Shortly before Christmas – the busiest time of the year for the Glucks – we were alone together in the rectory. Anton prowled through the rooms and corridors, catching me at every corner, on every staircase, snatching embraces. He held me tight, cupped my face and covered it as well as my throat with kisses, before he sighed: ‘Marta, I can’t go on like this. I hate all this secrecy and following you around like a randy dog. Be mine. Marry me. Come spring I’ll have work and then I can feed us. We can take a small house together and . . .’

  ‘What nonsense!’ I said, though these were the words I most longed to hear. ‘Your parents will never allow us to marry. It is one thing to take in a girl off the street as a maid, and I am eternally grateful for their kindness, but it is quite another to welcome her as a daughter-in-law.’

  ‘But as soon as I have an income, it shan’t be their decision to make.’ How I loved his pride and confidence! ‘It’s my life, and I want it to be with you, every day and every night,’ he said, kissing me more, holding me tight, till I felt his desire through my dress and apron. ‘Be mine entirely,’ he begged, his breath hot on my skin. ‘We love each other. Being together is part of that – part of a love like ours.’

  My heart leapt with excitement then plummeted with shame. I thought of the things Vassily had made me do, of Misha holding me down in that hellish house. Was there something else to being with a man? He raised my chin and I met his deep, honest gaze. Anton was exactly what Christina and I had thought of when we plucked flowers and lit candles to seek out our true loves. Just then we heard Caroline’s voice calling me and jumped apart. He snatched a last kiss before I hastily straightened my dress, smoothed my hair and walked towards the study.

  Anton held me back, his fingers hot on my skin. ‘Don’t lock your door tonight,’ he whispered, before letting me go.

  I left, feeling numb with fear, and happiness.

  I sleepwalked through my chores that day, thinking only of the night ahead. My fingers trembled so much that I broke the Christmas cookies while turning them out from their
copper cutters and had to start all over again, wasting butter and flour. I cut myself while hollowing the apple cores to fill them with raisins and nuts. Finding Caroline’s eyes on me startled me, though she behaved as she always had. I remembered her words of warning: ‘I suffer neither lies nor fornication in my house.’ But surely a soon-to-be husband and wife lying together was not fornication as such? Wasn’t I entitled to marriage, happiness and a contented life, just like hers? Although I might not be the Glucks’ ideal daughter-in-law, I would repay their kindness to me for the rest of my life, I swore that to myself while touching my lips that were swollen from Anton’s kisses. I couldn’t fight my feelings any longer. For the first time in my life I knew the power of passion, a flood which tears away all reason, just as the big thaw overcomes the mightiest ice floes.

  Anton came to me when I had almost fallen asleep, after folding my hands in evening prayer three times over, and then tossing and turning on my straw sack. The door opened just a gap, and mercifully without creaking, and a moment later he held me in his arms. I stiffened when I first felt his weight upon mine, but everything was so different from the way it had been with Vassily! Anton’s body was warm, his hands were smooth and his breath sweet when we kissed. I pressed myself against him, wanting to feel him everywhere, and helped him when he gently took off my nightshirt, letting it drop to the floor, and covered us with his coat. Lying so close to him, I dared to discover him. I was hesitant at first, but then I grew more daring: his muscles, the dark and curly hair on his chest and his flat, hard belly. The straw felt spiky on our naked skin, but we giggled together and the feeling of his skin on mine was a caress in itself; how long had my body waited for this delight?

  ‘How beautiful your breasts are,’ he sighed, cupping them gently. ‘And your skin is as white as milk.’ His lips followed the line of my throat, nibbling the tender skin, making my breath fly. Lightning shot through my veins when his tongue found my nipples, sucking and teasing the tender flesh. I sighed and spread myself open as all I wanted was him, more of him: much, much more. The feeling flowed from my head into my limbs, spilling into my belly and then between my thighs. I wrapped myself around his hips and pulled him towards me, trying to guide him. Vassily had always been in such a hurry, once he finally had grown hard. But Anton’s fingers met mine, stopping me, and he smiled. ‘Not so quickly. You too want to enjoy this, don’t you?’

  I was not quite sure what he meant, but Anton knelt between my thighs, spread them, licked his fingers and gently caressed me, fondling my curly hair. ‘What sweet dark fur you have there, my little cat. I’ll like that as long as I live, I promise.’ He bent over me, kissed my belly and then gently raised my hips to his mouth. ‘Don’t move.’ His whisper sent shivers over my skin. I felt embarrassed and wanted to push him back when I felt his tongue: I rose with a muffled scream and my whole body arched with shock at what he was doing and what I felt. He traced my wetness, again and again, deeper and deeper, before caressing me in tiny circles. Vassily had shoved himself so many times into my mouth – I’d had had no idea that it could be the other way round as well. Heat shot through my body and my limbs went as soft as butter in August; my fingers laced themselves into Anton’s honey-coloured hair. I moaned, then all of a sudden his tongue stopped and he held still. All I felt was his hot breath on my moist, swollen flesh.

  ‘Please,’ I sighed.

  Anton’s tongue-tip brushed a spot I hadn’t even known existed. I felt a wave building up in my body, mighty and powerful, and was ready to throw myself into it with abandon. Molten gold seared my veins. I called out and then fell back, my face sweaty and my throat dry. My skin glistened pale in the moonlight, droplets pooled like liquid starlight between my full breasts. Anton slid up to me and kissed me, so that I briefly, greedily, tasted my own scent on his lips, before he entered me, gently, carefully, feeling his way where I was so wet and swollen: Vassily had always brought nothing but pain but I moaned when Anton thrust into me more forcefully, right up to the root, closing my thighs around his hips, and I met his every move, wanting more and more of him. I held his neck, his back, his buttocks, and finally he stifled a scream and fell on top of me, panting, his heartbeat racing. I stroked the hair from his moist forehead and blew the glistening sweat from his face. He smiled, his eyes closed, his lips searching for mine, his hands still cupping my body. This was how we fell asleep.

  When he crept out of my chamber shortly before sunrise, my lips were swollen from his kisses, my breasts longed for his tenderness and my heart was full, yet felt light as never before.

  The following Sunday in church I folded my hands in prayer and asked God for one thing only: to live a long and fulfilled life at Anton’s side. When I raised my head during the last hymn, I met the eyes of the tall, blond stranger whom I had already seen at Harvest Festival. He was not old but whipcord thin, his weathered face lined with many fine wrinkles and scars. He looked just like many of the Swedish soldiers of the Marienburg Garrison did. He stared brazenly at my mouth, as if he knew what had happened. I lowered my eyes, but his gaze burnt holes in my lids.

  18

  Anton couldn’t sneak out to see me for the next few days and at mealtimes could pay me no attention. In the kitchen, I heard that yet another Marienburg merchant had turned him away. Ernst Gluck was said to be angry and helpless. I couldn’t believe that: a man like him, with his faith and his patience? The same afternoon Caroline called me into her study. Had Anton spoken with his parents already? That was why he wasn’t coming to see me: he wanted to put our love on a formal footing. My fingers trembled as I plaited my braid anew and I felt the blood rushing through my veins, hardly daring to look at my mistress when I entered the room. Would she treat me like family now, or would she be disappointed in the choice her son had made? I knocked on the door with my heart in my mouth.

  Both the Glucks were in the room. I was surprised to see the pastor there as he was usually busy shortly before Christmas. But then, of course he’d be there to welcome me into the family! They smiled as I entered and Caroline set her sewing aside. ‘Come in, Marta, and close the door. It’s such a cold and windy day. We’ll have more snow later, what do you think, Ernst?’

  The only person missing was Anton himself; was he too nervous to sit through this? He wasn’t meant to speak to his parents till he had found work. But I could forgive him his haste, I thought with a little smile, as I, too, couldn’t wait to be with him forever.

  ‘Mulled wine?’ Ernst asked me. ‘It’s delicious.’ Mulled wine, at noon, in these times? We definitely had something to celebrate. I sat next to Caroline, sinking into the stripy sofa. The bowl warmed my hands; bits of apple and pear bobbed on the surface, soaking themselves full with the steaming red liquid and sinking to the bottom of the bowl.

  Caroline broke the silence as her husband stoked the fire in the tiled oven. I saw embers fly. ‘Marta, something absolutely wonderful has happened. I’d never have dared to hope for such luck and happiness for you.’

  I blushed deeply. ‘What has happened?’ I asked, my voice husky with feeling. Indeed, how could I have hoped for such happiness? Oh, my strong, honest and most beloved Anton. He had kept his word.

  ‘You know that there are some Swedes in my congregation? Men who live in the garrison? Honest, good men, such as a dragoon called Johann Trubach,’ said Ernst, leaning against the oven.

  ‘Yes?’ I said, nodding. Had this Trubach some link to a merchant who had given Anton a job? Well, then all was sorted. Caroline smiled and took my hand: ‘A soldier will never be a rich man, but Johann has his own room in the garrison, steady pay and a warm heart. That is all that counts, isn’t it?’

  Well, yes, but for what? My fingers clenched the wine bowl as to not drop it. Where was Anton, and why was he not here to speak up for us?

  ‘Believe it or not, yesterday Trubach asked for your hand in marriage. He was not to be deterred,’ the pastor said and his wife beamed at me. ‘It’s true. He spotted you in church and
fell in love, there and then.’

  ‘But that’s impossible,’ I stammered. All this was a mistake: I was promised to Anton. Another man could not ask for my hand in marriage, I was spoken for. Surely the Glucks had sent that silly dragoon packing?

  ‘I know,’ said Ernst. ‘And I’ve been very open with him. You have neither parents nor a dowry. God knows, you don’t even have a family name.’ He winked at me. ‘But for him it’s enough to know that you share a roof with us.’

  ‘Can I think about it?’ I asked, dry-mouthed. I had to buy time so as to tell Anton and make him stop this from happening. Together we’d find a way out!

  ‘What is there to think about?’ Caroline asked. ‘We have accepted his proposal on your behalf. Nothing better could happen to a simple girl like you,’ she said, and hugged me. ‘Congratulations! Ernst will perform the marriage ceremony in the New Year.’

  ‘So quickly? Don’t you need my help anymore?’ I asked, instead of blurting: No! I love your elder son and he loves me. We are engaged to marry.

  ‘Not so much anymore, Marta. Agneta will join Ernst’s classes and Anton has finally found work, albeit with a merchant in Pernau. He’s leaving in the morning but will visit us for Easter, and then Johann and you must come for supper, too. Anton is sorry not to see you, but he sends you his warmest regards.’