Daughter of the Raven

by Cherime MacFarlane

  The sun was low on the horizon when Dmitri heard the distinct scream of a newborn making its reluctant way into the world. Samuel was upstairs in his bedroom with his wife, as it should be.

  Dmitri had gone home to check on his own children twice. Camille knew he was down in the parlor. Several business calls had been made and he was studying some correspondence when she called out to him.

  "Dmitri! Come and meet Jean Marie!"

  He smiled as he picked up his work and put it into the satchel. "Coming!"

  Dmitri went up the stairs. He walked into the bedroom as the midwife was putting things to rights. As the doctor turned to leave, he tipped his hat to Dmitri. Samuel was cradling his daughter in his arms. Dmitri was hard pressed to tell who was smiling wider, Samuel or Leontine.

  "Look at her! Oh God! Dmitri she is beautiful, like her mother."

  Walking over to Devins, Dmitri put an arm around Samuel's shoulder and glanced down at the infant.

  "It is a very good thing she looks like Leontine, being a girl that is."

  Little Jean Marie had a firm hold on her father's finger. From the corner of his good eye, Dmitri saw Camille was helping a glowing Leontine to lean against the headboard of the bed. It was time for her to try to nurse the new addition to the family. He caught Camille's eye. Dmitri gave Samuel a quick one armed hug. After a grin in Leontine's direction, Dmitri left the room to wait for Camille downstairs.

  Samuel was lost in wonder. All her fingers and toes were so very small. Not having had much contact with infants, he was amazed. The tiny finger, holding so tightly to his, had a nail so small and perfect, he could hardly believe it.

  "Sam, Sam bring her here please. Samuel?" Leontine broke into his thoughts.

  Devins found he did not want to let go of this small lovely creature. But, he did as Leontine asked. As he watched, Leontine moved her bed jacket aside to see if Jean would nurse.

  She coaxed her by rubbing the side of the baby's cheek with her nipple. Jean's tiny rosebud mouth gripped her mother's breast and she began to feed. Samuel pulled a chair to the side of the bed and sat to watch his wife and daughter. Occasionally he reached one finger out to touch the soft skin of the infant.

  Camille quietly closed the door. Leontine had listened well. It was time for the small family to be alone. Legs shaking, Camille made her way downstairs. Dmitri waited for her, his valise in one hand. Once out of doors, Dmitri put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. Camille wrapped her free arm around his waist. As the sun set, they walked the short distance to their own home and family.

  Together, they checked on the children. As Dmitri knew Camille was exhausted, he asked Ilyia to please see to getting both Dmi and Lexi to bed. Dmitri promised the children they could both meet Jean the following day.

  Camille was sitting before the mirror having removed her dress. She was considering just braiding her hair before climbing into bed. Dmitri drew up a footstool behind her. Sitting down, he took the hairbrush and began to brush out her hair.

  "Oh, thank you love." She sighed.

  "I did not know if I had the energy to deal with all this hair tonight. And thank you for whatever you said to Samuel. It helped immensely."

  Dmitri loved the way her hair smelled. The feel of it in his fingers was amazing. "Camille. Of late, I have not been the best of husbands and....."

  She quickly rose from her seat, turned and placed a finger on his lips. "No cher!"

  His face was on a level with her belly. Camille stooped to take his head in both hands. The kiss was sweetly tender. Holding his head tightly against her for a moment, Camille kissed him again. This time the heat of it caught him unaware.

  Camille knelt on the floor. Slowly, she unbuttoned his shirt, placing a kiss on his chest as she did so. Removing the shirt, she ran her fingers through his blond hair before leaning forward to lick the corners of his mouth. His mouth opened slightly in response and Camille took his bottom lip between her teeth.

  Enthralled, Dmitri was unable to do anything, but respond. She pressed against him tightly for a moment. Camille stood and with a smile, tugged him to his feet. Lightly her fingers traced the scars on his back, then the newest one on his side. She lay her head against his chest.

  Rubbing her cheek against his skin, Camille sighed. "Will you do something for me Dmitri?"

  His arms went around her. "Anything moy sladkiy."

  When her dark hair brushed his chest, Dmitri thought he could feel every individual strand on his skin.

  "Will you play for me? It has been so long." She turned her head to place a kiss in the hollow of his chest. As he groaned in response, Dmitri tightened his arms around her.

  "Please Dmitri, please?" Her lips moved against his skin.

  He had not played the violin since they came to this city. A city, which had cost him so dearly. Dmitri could not deny her. "Get it."

  She moved away from him to the armoire. Then he heard the faint sound of the latches of the violin case being opened. It was a moment before Camille placed the violin and bow in his hands. Absently he noted she had tightened the bow. He did not know what on earth he was to play for her, but he would try.

  Without conscious thought he fell into the melody of a gypsy tune. And the violin began to cry. Camille wrapped her arms around him from behind, laying her cheek on his back.

  Dmitri did not know when she removed her nightgown. But he felt her bare body against him. He played three songs for her, before placing the instrument on the dressing table.

  Camille stood on tiptoe as she reached up to lace her fingers around his neck. "Come!"

  Drawing his face down, Camille kissed her husband. It was a command he was more than willing to obey. After lifting her into his arms, Dmitri carried Camille to their bed.

  Samuel Devins lay in his own bed. His child was in the small cradle on Leontine's side of the bed. He was thanking God that Leontine was alive and well, as was his sweet child. Leontine's head was pillowed on his arm. She was sleeping peacefully. Samuel lay awake for a very long time as he wished to remember this moment forever.

  They did not have much more time. The closer they came to Yakutsk, the more ice choked the river became. Very soon the canoe would have to be removed from the water, as it would be too dangerous for the thin skin of the canoe to continue. A piece of ice could easily slice through the fragile bark. They could not afford to fall into the water in these temperatures. They could easily die. As the sun reached its highest point that day, Anya saw columns of smoke hanging in the cold still air.

  "Petyr! Look!" She pointed with her paddle. "Paddle now. Hurry!"

  They both paddled as hard as they could. Shortly, they might be able to sleep indoors, free of the unrelenting cold.

  Petyr did not know how Anya was able to go on day after day. If he had to sleep one more night in the horrid cold, he did not wish to wake. Anya had worked very hard to wake him this morning. The limit of his endurance was so very close.

  Their store of dried fish was running low, as was the tea. It was almost over if they did not find shelter soon. He did not say anything to her, as he did not need to. Petyr was certain she knew of his bone deep weariness.

  It did not take as long as he thought to actually reach the town. Between the two of them, they managed to bring the canoe to shore. Pulling their packs from the canoe, they overturned it, far up the bank and away from the river.

  Anya inquired at the first house they came to for the location of Losif. They were given directions before being invited into the home for a meal and hot tea. The family offered to let them spend the night, as Losif's home was a bit up the trail toward Okhotsk.

  Anya declined. Petyr found himself trudging after her through a light dusting of snow. The road was easy to follow. Finally, with barely enough light to see, Anya again knocked on the door of a sturdy log home.

  "Is this the home of Losif?" Barely managing to form the words through her thoroughly chilled lips, she waited for a reply from t
he woman who opened the door.

  "Yes! Indeed. Come in children. You must be frozen." The older woman encouraged them to enter.

  Chairs were placed next to the blazing fire, she called her husband. "Losif! We have guests. Come please."

  The man was lined and bent from years of heavy work. But there was a smile on his face as he puffed on a pipe.

  "Where have you two come from?" He inquired. "All the freight that was due has come down river, as far as I know. The ferry is berthed for the winter. How did you get here?"

  "Here child." The woman put a cup of hot tea in Anya's hands. "Slowly, it is quite hot. Do not burn yourself." The softly rounded woman said with a smile.

  Losif's wife forced Anya to take tiny sips while blowing on the fragrant brew. When the tea cooled somewhat, Anya placed the cup on first one side, than the other of her frozen face. Ever so slowly the warmth seeped into her body, replacing the cold she had lived with for the latter part of their trip.

  At last she felt she could finally speak. "We came down river in a canoe."

  Anya watched the older couple exchanged glances. "I met Naum on the steamer on the Yenisei. He gave me your name. I have a letter from him to give to you. I will get it." She reached toward her pack.

  Losif tapped her on the arm gently. "Later. I will look at it later. First, you two need to warm yourselves. I have two sons who are expected back for dinner. Then, you can tell all of us of your journey. Rest for now. There is no use it telling the tale twice."

  Lowering himself to the hearth, Petyr fell asleep by the fire. He did not move when the woman covered him with a blanket.

  Anya, although warming slowly and feeling somewhat sluggish, did not fall asleep. She drank the tea as she listened to the chatter around her. Losif's wife was named Bell, she discovered. They were amazed she and Petyr made it to Yakutsk and did not freeze to death out on the Lena.

  Thinking about it, she was as amazed as they were. Anya knew there was not much left in either Petyr or herself. The hardest thing she had done was get the both of them moving early this morning.

  Cuddled up together, wrapped in the bear hide and wolf skins, it would have been so easy to give up. With insufficient food to keep going, they could have gone back to sleep. All would have ended there, on the river bank. Anya had forced herself and Petyr to wake, to travel just a little bit further.

  Once she saw the smoke from Yakutsk, Anya knew she was going to find Losif, if it was the last thing she did. Thanks to God, it had not been the last thing.

  When the other members of the family came in they gathered around the table to eat. Someone woke Petyr. He was groggy, but the smell of food enticed him to get something down.

  After being introduced to the family, Losif read the letter from Naum aloud. When he came to the part where Naum explained how Anya had cared for his injury, those seated around the table smiled broadly. Bell patted her hand.

  Another cup of tea was given to her when the letter was finished. Every one watched her expectantly. Bell encouraged her to tell them how she had come to be here, in their home.

  There was much shaking of heads and grumbles about the man who had stolen her from her home. When she told of the rescue of Petyr, who had again gone to sleep before the fire, sympathetic looks were cast in his direction.

  The tale of the canoe was almost more than anyone could believe. Kole, the eldest son, volunteered to collect the canoe for them in the morning, before it was too frozen to move. Anya told them they were welcome to it.

  It was a struggle to keep her eyes open, but she knew she needed to make her request. "Losif, I, Petyr and I, need to get to the coast. I must get home." She eyed Petyr's place before the fire, hoping she would be next to him shortly.

  "I can help you. But it will not be until just before the ice melts. There is a man who is coming to Okhotsk to pick up a small herd of reindeer. The captain is taking the beasts to Alaska."

  Her face lit up at the news that passage to Alaska might be possible.

  The old herder continued. "The passes will still have snow in them, but the sea ice will go out while we are traveling to Okhotsk. The man is coming for the herd then. If you and the boy will help me with the herd, I will not need as many herders. I think the captain will be willing to take you back to Alaska."

  "That is good, but where will Petyr and I stay until then?" She had barely enough energy to spread the sleeping furs. Anya was blinking her eyes in an effort to keep from closing them.

  "Here with us child. You helped Naum, we are more than happy to help you." Bell smiled at her.

  Bell's face was the last thing she recalled seeing when she woke the next day. Fully clothed, they had placed her next to Petyr on the floor in front of the large fireplace, before wrapping them both in wolf skins.

  Anya woke first. There was the sound of gentle laughter with a backdrop of normal kitchen noise. It was truly wonderful to simply lie before the fire. Not having to force her body into action was a God send. She turned her head to one side, rubbing her cheek against the warm fur. It was heavenly to be warm inside with the wonderful aroma of food cooking. Anya found she needed to move, a trip outside was necessary.

  The warmth of the house hit her like a hot, wet towel, after the short trip outside. Some might think the house oppressively warm, but after days in the cold it was almost a luxury to be warm, even hot.

  Bell had tea and hot bread waiting, fresh from the oven. With a bit of cheese, Anya was content with a full belly. Petyr woke a little later. After a short trip outside, he was treated to the same breakfast. Both of them stayed close to the house for the first few days, basking in the warmth.

  Bell and her two daughters in law, Lana, wife of Kole and Lonna, wife of Stesha, worked together with Anya on winter clothing.

  Petyr was given first priority, as he would be helping the men outside with the livestock. Wood for the fireplace and the wood cook stove needed to be brought inside daily. The men tended to the wood and the women to the household chores. Anya was happy with the arrangement for the moment.

  The family had a communal bathhouse, used by everyone at the same time. Due to the effort it took to get it warmed up, it was used sparingly. Anya had a difficult time adjusting to bathing with everyone watching. She soon realized all the adults tried to ignore the naked, wet bodies surrounding them.

  Petyr could not bring himself to bathe with everyone else and went into the bathhouse before it was fully heated. Jumping into the large wooden tub, the boy gave himself a quick, if cool, scrub.

  The house itself was one large room. Every one slept in a bed framed with wood on three sides. There were curtains, which could be drawn across the front of the bed. While giving some privacy to the occupants of the various beds, it did not lessen the sounds of those inside. Anya observed the family scrupulously avoided acknowledging certain matters.

  The sleeping nooks were all taken, but arrangements were made for the two visitors. She and Petyr usually slept on the floor near the hearth, carefully wrapped in warm furs.

  The Yakuti were constantly busy. There was always some chore to be seen to. Tanning hides was a major occupation which involved the entire family. Hides of all kinds were rolled up and waiting to be processed.

  Reindeer, horse, any and every kind of animal living in the valley of the Lena, had a hide rolled and waiting to be processed in the log home. Once tanned, they were made into every sort of item imaginable. They made rope, small herder's whips and warm clothing for outdoor use. Everyone helped to turn the furs and leather into useful objects.

  A cooking kettle hung over the fire. In it, the main meal of the day, dinner was bubbling away. Anya was not sure if it could be termed soup or stew. It was hot and it was filling.

  The family waited until everyone was at home to share in the meal. It was a time of coming together to discuss the day. Losif read from the Bible after everyone had eaten.

  Petyr always listened intently as the old man read aloud. It was also the ti
me for telling tales. Anya and Petyr listened as Losif told of the old ways, before the coming of the Cossacks.

  Cossacks, the outsiders, brought prosperity and pain. Yakutsk had a large hospital to treat those in need. A doctor made regular rounds of the area in the summer. Almost every male Yakut could read. They in turn taught their families. The Russians brought good and bad.

  They tore apart the old ways as they insisted on adherence to the new. Beatings and killings served to bring the Yakuti into line. There had been little resistance from the tribe.

  Anya in turn, told the Yakut of the trouble between the native tribes of Alaska and the Russians. Things did not abruptly change after the purchase of Alaska by the United States. The U.S. Navy shelled a native village called Angoon. It seemed there was always conflict between those simply wishing to live off the land and those who wished to own it.

  She and Petyr fit into the household routine easily. Petyr hauled hay to the livestock and brought in firewood. Anya cleaned and helped with sewing along with the unending scraping of hides.

  Now and again, Anya did take time to go outside. After all the months she had spent traveling, there were times when the house, for all the warmth and good nature of those within, became too close. Anya doubted she would ever be able to fit into the closed insular world of a big city again.

  There were times she must be alone with the things of the earth. The valley of the Lena was large, but was filled with fields, not trees. Firewood was hauled from long distances, or obtained from the debris which surged down river in the early spring. There was no forest for her to wander in, but it was sufficient for her to breathe in the fresh air and walk in the snow.

  The months ran into each other. Anya thought often of her family. Was Leontine's baby a boy or a girl? What had they named the child? Had her family gone back to the island for the winter?

  And Stanislaus? Had he found someone to appreciate his humor and gentleness? When she thought back through her life, it seemed he had always been there. Either in the background, or at her side. Stanislaus, her guardian, was a constant in her world.