Apollo thought about this for a moment, then yelled, “You get a medal, Vreni!” and spurred his horse back through the pass. Vera followed, smiling.
It was a long and grueling business, judiciously spooning the salt into narrow channels, waiting for it to burn into the ice, then moving the animals quickly before it froze up again. Two mules slid down the ravine, together with the cart they had been pulling and five barrels containing a hundred rifles. The driver had jumped off but had broken a leg, and his moans as the cart on which he lay jolted over the rough tracks followed the party like an ill omen. It was almost dark before they reached the other side of the pass. Vera could see lines of smoke rising from houses in the valley below. Then it began to rain, making the road even more treacherous.
They lost two more carts before they reached the village, although they managed to retrieve the weapons. These lay bound together under a tarpaulin, threatening to slide out of the vehicle at every incline. It was a miserable parade of mismatched men, the Istanbulis contemptuous of the locals and vice versa. The two groups had almost come to blows several times, but Yedo had mediated between them. The villagers greeted the local men warmly, and soon the warmth of a fire, meat, hot bread, and wine eased the tensions.
Each day that brought them closer to New Concord increased Vera’s excitement and apprehension. She began to avoid Apollo, disappearing for hours into a silent cocoon, collecting herself, trying to imagine herself as Gabriel’s wife. She would see her husband soon, she told herself, relishing the word “husband,” then immediately seizing up with fear that Gabriel would no longer find her attractive or would be angry at the trouble she had caused him. There were no visible scars from what had been done to her at Akrep headquarters. Perhaps, she thought, she shouldn’t tell Gabriel. Then everything would be as before. But she didn’t believe that for a moment. By the time they came within sight of the monastery, Vera felt confused and eager in equal measure.
Ten days after they had set out from Trabzon, they arrived at New Concord. The heavy iron gate swung open, and Gabriel and several others ran out to meet them. Apollo dismounted, and he and Gabriel embraced and pounded each other’s backs. Vera remained on her horse, the collar of her fox fur cape and hat hiding much of her face. She could see Gabriel scanning the ragged group. Apollo’s messenger would have told him that she was coming.
Gabriel walked over and peered up at her. “Vera?” He had grown a beard, brown with reddish patches at the cheeks.
She listened to her heart, which thundered beneath the cape. Was it passion or fear? Why couldn’t she tell the difference? she wondered. “It’s me, Gabriel,” she answered, and slid from her horse into his embrace.
She heard Apollo shouting at the men to get the carts inside and unloaded. The sky was bruised violet. She could feel the darkness descending from the mountains like a cold breath on her neck. Gabriel took her arm and led her through the gate into the courtyard. They left the clanking of harnesses and rustle of tarpaulin being pulled from the carts and entered the main hall of New Concord commune. A fire burned in the grate, and a blond woman with freckles hurried over to greet her. She introduced herself as Alicia. When Vera turned back, Gabriel had gone without a word.
Alicia brought Vera a bowl of cabbage stew and sat beside her while she ate, telling her about the commune and occasionally laying her hand on Vera’s arm. Vera wondered if the woman had sensed the pain that had shot through her when she saw that Gabriel had gone. Vera didn’t like being the object of Alicia’s pity but found the weight of the woman’s hand comforting.
By the time Gabriel returned some hours later, Vera had recovered herself. Of course he had to help unload the carts and unharness the animals. Why had she thought he would immediately drop everything just to be with her? He always put duty first. She knew that about him, and she had married him. It was something she admired, she reminded herself. Her father, a general, also was often absent from home.
Gabriel came to sit beside her on the quilt Alicia had given her. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment. His beard gleamed in the firelight. Then he put his arm around her, the weight of it heavy on her shoulders.
“I’m so glad you’re safe,” he told her, his voice rough with emotion, his breath sour. She felt him looking at her and nodded without answering. She moved closer and began to shiver.
“I came back for you and you were gone,” Gabriel said. “What happened?”
“They arrested me.”
“The secret police?”
Vera nodded again.
“Where did they take you? Are you all right?”
Vera meant to say yes. “No.” She forced the word out. “No, I’m not.” She felt Gabriel tense, but he didn’t ask. Instead he pulled her head onto his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Vera. The police were after me. I had to leave Istanbul. But Yorg Pasha swore he would get you out, and he did. I wouldn’t have gone if I hadn’t thought he would do that.”
“Who is Yorg Pasha?” Vera asked, lifting her head and meeting Gabriel’s tired eyes.
Gabriel looked surprised. “How did you get out then?”
“I ran away.”
Gabriel laughed, showing yellowed teeth. “Good for you. You didn’t need me at all.” Vera winced. He had aged since she last saw him, even though that was only two months ago. An eternity ago. She told him about the girl, Sosi, who had helped her escape and been killed.
“There were a lot of things I never expected I could bear.” Her voice caught.
Gabriel glanced away, embarrassed. “Whatever happened doesn’t matter to me. I’m glad you’re safe.” He held her close and pressed his cold lips against her cheek. “That’s behind us now, my wife. You’ll be happy at New Concord.” He began to tell her his plans for the commune. His eyes shone, and Vera saw again the visionary with whom she had fallen in love. Perhaps it was possible, she thought, listening to the fervor in his voice.
75
Trabzon harbor was wreathed in early morning mist as the steamer approached, but Kamil could see a small crowd gathered on the pier. He heard the clash of drums and the nasal whine of a zurna. A band had been sent to welcome the distinguished representative of Sultan Abdulhamid.
The governor of Trabzon Province, together with all the notables of the town, the imam of the town mosque, and a long-bearded priest were gathered in the small plaza by the harbor. When Kamil stepped from the pier, they bowed deeply. The governor stepped forward and began to deliver a flowery speech of welcome. When he saw the soldiers and horses disembark under the standard of the sultan, his voice died away, but after a moment he picked up his speech where he had left it.
Kamil found this reaction remarkable, since it was usual for royal envoys to travel with a military guard. He noticed tension in people’s faces and what he thought was fear.
The governor conducted Kamil to his house, which his family had vacated for the sultan’s envoy from the capital. The staff was left in place, the governor explained, to see to the pasha’s every need. He would personally supervise the billeting of the soldiers nearby.
Kamil thanked the man and directed Yakup to allocate rooms to Omar and Elif, whom, as she had suggested, Kamil introduced as his personal servant, Elias. Two days out of Istanbul, the steamer had encountered high winds and rocked back and forth like a baby in a swing. They had had to lay in at the Black Sea port of Zonguldak to avoid the worst of it, delaying them by two days. Elif had suffered a great deal from seasickness and, her face green, curled up under the quilts in Kamil’s cabin through the entire voyage. Kamil and Yakup had taken turns tending to her. Kamil’s anger had abated somewhat.
Omar knocked perfunctorily on the sitting room door and barged in, holding a piece of yellow paper. Kamil turned from the window, where he had been considering the height of the cliffs ringing the town.