Nyanka might wail and croon her hysterical fear, while looking inwardly at her unforgiveable sin; Irina might sit in stunned silence, contemplating the loss of her dearest child, knowing that she was ultimately responsible for Nyanka, and for bringing the children here in the first place; but Anne knew that the final responsibility was hers. Nyanka was only a servant, and a serf at that; Irina had a mother’s cares, but a high-born mother’s detachment too. Anne was the person employed by the Count to take care of the children, to bring them up in loco parentis, and she should not have gone off on a pleasure-jaunt and left them unguarded.
She, above all, knew what Natasha was like – how unpredictable she could be – how little regard she had for physical danger. The child was strange, there was no escaping the fact. Anne remembered old Marya’s warning – the little one may walk away one day… don’t let her stray too far… There was no doubt that Nasha had deliberately taken a horse and ridden away, of her own will, for some purpose of her own. But where? And why? Her thoughts trod the weary circle again.
The men came back after dark, exhausted, silent with failure.
‘But you can’t leave her out there in the dark!’ Ekaterina cried, clutching her own daughter against her bosom. ‘Think how frightened she will be! You must keep looking for her!’
‘We can’t search in the dark, Katya,’ Feodor said, defeat heavy in his voice. ‘We’ll begin again at first light tomorrow, but there’s nothing more we can do now.’
‘We’ve left lookouts to bivouac at various vantage points,’ Mishka added. ‘It was Seryosha’s idea. She may be trying to make her way back home by now, and she’ll see their camp fires. If she comes across any of them, they’ll bring her straight back here. It’s the best we can do.’
‘What about the tribesmen we saw?’ Anne asked quietly. She saw the same reluctance in the eyes of the men to answer, as she felt in asking.
‘We found the place where we saw them,’ Sergei said. ‘They must have been there quite a while, judging by the dung. But what they were doing…’ He shrugged.
‘They came from the east and made off that way,’ Mishka added, ‘to judge from the few tracks we could find. But there was no possibility of following them. As to Nasha – well, the path she was following is bare rock. The only trace is a scratch here and there, and there’s no knowing if that was made by her horse, or any other.’
There was a silence.
‘But what did she go for?’ Ekaterina asked, as if exasperated by the illogicality of the situation.
Feodor looked at his sister helplessly. ‘God, if we knew that… ! Perhaps she went to look at the horses in the valley, and then wandered too far to get back before dark. She’ll probably make her own way back,’ he said unconvincingly. ‘She’s probably hiding up somewhere, waiting for it to get light. She’ll turn up safe and sound tomorrow morning.’
No one agreed or disagreed.
‘I’d better see about supper,’ Zina said dully. ‘Come with me, Katya. There’s water hot for you men. Go on to your rooms, I’ll send it in.’
The next day, as soon as it got light, the men went out again in four parties, armed, and equipped with ropes, blankets, food, aquavit and anything else they thought might conceivably be useful; and the women settled down to another day of waiting. Anne took Sashka away and taught him his letters, in an attempt to keep her mind from the fruitless anxiety that was wearing them all down. Nyanka washed, starched and ironed every item of children’s clothing she could lay hands on. Irina sat on the verandah, rocking a little, staring at nothing, her long, golden eyes blank. Her hands were folded, motionless in her lap; under them, though no one knew it but Anne, she held one of Nasha’s shoes, a pink sandal she had worn on the night of the feast, to dance in.
The day’s search revealed nothing. ‘There are so many places she might be – woods, ravines, caves,’ Danil said defeatedly. ‘It will take for ever to search them all. It’s hopeless.’
‘We need more help,’ Feodor said, giving his brother a warning look. ‘Tomorrow I shall call out every serf, and comb the whole valley inch by inch. We’ll find her, don’t worry,’ he added to Irina, trying to sound confident; but she only looked at him blankly. Anne, with Sashka in her arms for comfort, visualised the size of the area they were searching, thought of Nasha lying hurt and helpless in some hidden gully.
‘If she had fallen from her horse, wouldn’t it have made its own way home?’ she asked.
‘Not necessarily. If it were very far away, it might just wander,’ Mishka said briefly. ‘Or it might have got caught up somewhere – trailing reins.’
‘If there were a fall, the horse might be hurt,’ Grishka suggested.
‘You’d better hope that the horse is still with her,’ Danil said. ‘A lone child will be even harder to find.’
Irina took Sashka from Anne to put him to bed, and the others drifted away, leaving Sergei, Feodor and Anne alone on the verandah. The darkness was the black velvet of before moonrise, and they instinctively turned their faces to it. It was easier to talk and hope, when you could not see the despair in other people’s eyes.
‘Tomorrow I will send out a message to the tribes,’ Feodor said. ‘They can search the hills beyond the estate better than we can. They know every inch.’
A silence. ‘I don’t know whether I ought to write to my father,’ Sergei said, sounding for once very young, in need of reassurance. ‘It will take so long for the message to reach him, and if she were found meanwhile, he would be worried for nothing.’
‘Perhaps you might wait another day or two,’ Anne said, knowing it was the answer he wanted. ‘It’s a large area to search.’
‘If only we hadn’t gone out for the day!’ Sergei cried out, his guilt rising to the surface at last.
‘My dear, it isn’t your fault,’ Anne said. ‘It was never your business to take care of her. It is I who–’ She stopped abruptly. To voice her guilt was to court denials from the two men. She turned to look at Feodor’s dark shadow beside her, leaning on the verandah rail. ‘You don’t think she’s on the estate, do you? You think the Tcherkess took her.’
He was long answering; then he said quietly, ‘It seems likely. But there’s always hope. Let’s not talk about it.’ He pushed himself upright, the heavy movement of a tired man. ‘We’ll do everything we can – search, ask questions – and pray besides. But talking and thinking won’t help.’
‘How can any of us help thinking,’ Anne said helplessly.
Feodor touched her shoulder as he walked away. ‘We can try.’
Chapter Seventeen
Anne woke from a restless and tangled dream to find Sashka beside her bed, tugging urgently at her arm.
‘Anna! Anna! Come quick!’
She struggled up on to one elbow. Moonlight filled the room: her bed here at Chastnaya was uncurtained, and the window drapes had not been pulled quite together. Sashka was brightly illuminated in his white nightgown, his fair hair ruffled into a crest.
‘Sashka? What is it?’
‘Mama’s not well! Come and make her better, oh please, Anna!’
She was out of bed on the instant, reaching for her wrapper. ‘Did you wake Nyanka?’
Sashka shook his head. ‘She was snoring,’ he said succinctly. Anne took his hand and hurried out of her room and along the passage towards Irina’s. She had been watching the Countess carefully over the last few days, worried about her increasing withdrawal. Irina sat all day staring at nothing, or walked back and forth along the verandah, always holding Nasha’s shoe tight against her like a talisman. She did not cry or speak, barely seemed to understand when she was spoken to, ate little and without interest when food was placed before her. The only change in her came when the men returned at night, and her focus would suddenly sharpen as she looked at them for their report.