“That’s giving us a lot more than an even split,” said the Yakut.
“Yes and no,” said the lieutenant. “Gold is gold; it always has value. But the four hundred thousand or so paper rubles you each get could turn into so much trash overnight. My recommendation would be to take the paper, and that five thousand in gold, each, and turn all the paper into gold and silver as soon as you get where you’re going. If you can. As much of it as you can.”
“Paper’s pretty much useless among my people,” said Saskulaana. “Might my daughter and I take, instead, a fair share of the gold and the rest can have paper? Or you can take my share of paper?”
“Sure,” said Turgenev. “Let’s say… mmm… five horses and two bags of gold between you, the rest to go with us?”
“Agreed.”
“The rest of you ladies?”
The remaining women chorused their assent.
“Very well. Sergeant Mokrenko?”
“Sir?”
“A rest night for the men. We’ll leave at first light, tomorrow.”
“Sir, what about the two prisoners? They’re still outside, freezing.”
“Leave them to us,” said Saskulaana. “We owe them something.”
“They didn’t tell us everything,” Mokrenko observed, “so our offer of a chance to live is nullified.”
“They’re yours,” said the lieutenant. “Oh, before I forget; we need to bury Visaitov. I don’t want to leave him for the wolves and we can’t really take him with us.”
“Digging in the permafrost, sir?” said Mokrenko. “Do we have an extra two weeks?”
“Put him in one of the buildings,” suggested Saskulaana, “and set it alight.”
“Agreed,” said the lieutenant, though his agreement was touched with sadness. “Sergeant?”
“Sir?”
“Loot the robbers’ treasure trove, would you, for anything that might be of use to us?”
“These are good men,” said Saskulaana, after the two prisoners had been castrated and their throats had been cut. “These are decent men. No girls are to go to them, but only women, fully grown. Are there nine of us for that?”
The Yakut was better dressed than she had been upon the arrival of their liberators. Indeed, they were all better dressed, as they’d been given back their own clothes. So, for that matter, was Natalya, who had been fussed over and dressed by the now free women and girls.
“Eight of you,” said Natalya, as a female automatically brought into the women’s conspiracy. “The lieutenant belongs to me.”
“But you are so young,” said the Yakut.
“Eventually, he belongs to me. But I claim him as mine now.”
“Eight of us,” agreed Saskulaana, with a knowing smile. “Come, ladies; let us go willingly to our men. And do not forget the one outside on guard. Evdokia, don’t you have a specialty for a man standing in the cold?”
“I do, indeed,” agreed one woman, a pure Russian by the look of her, blue-eyed, blonde, round-faced, and with a most impressive chest. “Let me just find something to keep my knees from freezing…”
The Yakut already knew who she wanted, and had marked his place on the floor by the great Russian stove when he’d first rolled out his bedroll.
“Shshshsh,” she whispered to Mokrenko, as she pulled back the blankets covering him. “I mean you no harm. Oh, quite the opposite…”
Tyumen, Russia
Although it was not an idyll, nor without its risks, nor without the needs to maintain security, the ride to Tyumen had been as happy a time as any of the men had known since 1914, and happier than any of the women had known in the past half year.
All idylls, though, come to an end. This one came to an end at the outskirts of the town, where the men had to say goodbye to all the women except Natalya.
Whoever fell in love, Turgenev asked himself, watching the tear-filled goodbyes, who didn’t do so immediately or, at least, very quickly?
Mokrenko was particularly smitten.
And no wonder, thought Turgenev, looking at the Yakut woman. She wore her own fine furs, with a light fur hood drawn up over her hair. A triangular beaded fabric diadem decorated her forehead. Her hair hung down straight from behind, to both sides of her slender neck, to cover the fur in front of her breasts. The lower portions of delicate ears peeked out between hair and hood. On her neck hung a necklace of flat, crescent shapes, a mix of wood, horn, and amber. Everything seemed well-calculated to adorn a heart-shaped, elfin face, with two large almond eyes, a delicate chin, perfect eyebrows, and a mouth that begged to be kissed.
“Where might I find you?” he asked Saskulaana, “If I live, I mean.”
She smiled, having won the battle to bind a worthy man to her. “I’m a Sakha,” she replied, “or, as your people say, a Yakut. Well, three fourths. The other quarter is Russian and, yes, I am an Orthodox Christian.
“Where else would you find me except near the town of Yakutsk? I’ll be with my clan within a couple of hundred versta of the town, generally to the southeast of it.”
“Can you wait? Will you wait?”
“I will wait two years,” she said, decisively, “and will look for you in the town every six months. If you have not come for me by that time, I will assume you have forgotten me.”
“I will never forget you, while I live,” he said, “but I might not live.” He considered the time, the hardship, and the risk, then agreed. “Two years is long enough for you to wait, one way or the other.”
“Who knows,” she said, eyes twinkling. “Perhaps when you come I may have a not quite two-year-old surprise for you…”
His eyes widened to a degree she would have thought impossible.
“If you are… if you do… will this make it hard for you among your people?”
“Are you joking?” she laughed. “With the amount of gold I’m bringing back, no one would dare criticize me for anything. We don’t have queens, exactly, among my people, but I’m going to be the nearest thing to one. That also means I’ll be easy enough to find.”
Great Lake Shishkarym
The lake, or rather, lakes, since the area was dotted with them, was about thirty versta east of Kutarbitskoye, Russia, and about fifty almost due south of Tobolsk. It was an area barren, miserable, and cold, all three. If anyone lived anywhere near here, they were keeping indoors.
“It’s perfect,” said the lieutenant. “No towns. No witnesses. Water we can get at with a little cutting. Trees for shelter and firewood. Perfect. And it fits the limited guidance Kostyshakov had for us on a place to bring in a zeppelin.”
In other words, this place sucks, thought every man in the section. Dig in.
Setting up a decent camp for the men and horses took about a day. They had, by the time Turgenev and those accompanying him left, a tent, double-walled on a stout frame, enough firewood and food for a month. Left behind were Lieutenant Babin, Koslov, Shukhov—still healing and somewhat the worse for the long ride, and Novarikasha. They also left both sleighs they’d taken at the rail line, and another three they’d found in the robbers’ encampment, as well as any horse not needed for the trip. All the treasure of the robbers’ camp, less the money, and certainly to include several cans of kerosene, remained here, too.
The remaining six, including Natalya, rode north to Tobolsk with eight of the horses, two of those packed with necessities, to include enough cloth for a lean-to, if they needed to erect one, plus a single sleigh.