Through the White Wood

by Jessica Leake

  “There’s nothing to forgive.” He took a step closer to me, his gaze holding mine. “And please, do not call me by such formalities. Call me Sasha—the nickname my mother gave me,” he said when I looked at him questioningly. He gestured to another chair before the fireplace. “Sit, please.”

  When I had done so, he continued. “Katya, you must know I’m completely in your debt. Not only for saving my life from this injury, but after one of my own men tried to kill you.” His expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “Ivan told me he came upon Grigory after he had attacked you here in the palace, and that you had accused him of treason.”

  I nodded once. “He was angry that I gave you hope in defeating your enemies. He wants you to surrender to the Drevlians and Novgorodians.”

  The prince—Sasha, I corrected myself—nodded grimly. “Grigory has counseled surrender many times of late—I just hadn’t realized how far he would go to have that scenario come about.” A muscle in his jaw flexed. “I take the threat to your life very seriously, and he’s lucky no harm came to you. I have ordered him kept in the dungeon Ivan secured him in until he can be questioned and dealt with.”

  I gazed into the fire, remembering my last thought before I’d fallen asleep. “Do you think it’s possible he had anything to do with the death of your parents?”

  The prince looked taken aback. “You suspect his treachery runs that deep?”

  “I don’t know. I only know he implied that he had known the assassination would occur, and that he’d only protected you because he thought you would be able to fully harness your elemental fire.”

  “And now he imagines me to be weak,” the prince said pensively. “You’ve given me much to think about. My parents were killed in their beds at night, and we’ve always thought whoever hired the assassin would be one who was familiar with the palace’s layout. The other princes—they have been to this palace many times, have stayed here, feasted here, even been baptized here. It wouldn’t have been a stretch to think either of them could have provided the right information to the assassin.”

  A little sliver of cold anger stabbed inside me to think that either way, the deaths of the former grand prince and princess had been orchestrated by someone who had known them well. “Did you ever suspect anyone else?”

  “I’d like to think we had,” he said with a shake of his head, “but I don’t think that’s true. I fear the truth is worse than I’d imagined—that perhaps Grigory had been conspiring with the enemy.”

  “I’m sorry, Gosud—Sasha,” I corrected myself when he gave me a look. “It seems the Drevlians and Novogordians are a greater threat, too, than I’d been willing to admit.”

  “We didn’t expect the earth elementals to be so close to Kiev. I suspect if you hadn’t been there, we might not have all escaped with our lives.”

  His mention of the earth elementals made me realize I’d never told him what I’d overheard. With his injury consuming my thoughts instead, I’d completely forgotten.

  “You have reminded me that I overheard them talking—the earth elementals,” I added when he gave me a questioning look. “They spoke of their plan to attack Kiev, but they wanted to wait until they had more forces. In the meantime, they wanted to intimidate you by continuing to terrorize your boyars and their druzhinas.”

  The muscle of his jaw tightened. “I don’t take the deaths of my people lightly.”

  I thought of my own village, laid to waste. “I know you do not. Though from what I heard, not all the earth elementals are in agreement with the plan to overthrow you and kill so many innocents.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There was one man who stepped forward and argued against attacking Kiev—argued against the entire plan to overthrow you, actually. He wondered what the gain would be for the earth elementals and why they should align themselves with princes who have killed so many. But a woman who seemed like she was their leader threatened him—and anyone else who agreed—into silence.”

  Sasha was quiet for a moment. “This is an interesting thing you overheard. I had wondered if all the earth elementals were blindly following the princes. It seems they, too, are hesitant for war.”

  “Maybe so,” I said, “but the leader also made it seem like there were few who would agree with the man’s dissent.”

  Sasha nodded slowly in understanding. “And those who do agree with him will be threatened or killed.”

  “Yes,” I said, thinking of the woman’s words and the man’s cowed reaction to them.

  “Thank you for telling me,” he said, and his gaze held mine. “Though it pains me that you were so brutally attacked after overhearing.”

  I gave him a small smile. “An attack I not only survived, but returned tenfold.”

  He laughed lightly. “This is true. Ice like fire,” he said, his gaze drawing me in more.

  “I’m sorry you were injured though. Your wound,” I said, standing, “may I take a look at it?”

  He nodded. “It hasn’t been as painful since you applied the poultice.”

  When he began to shed his clothing, I bit my lip and studied the flames of the fire. Still, I could see him from the corner of my eye. He undid his belt and let it drop to the floor before carefully removing the tunic with a wince. This, too, fell to the floor. When his chest was bare but for the bandage, he sat down. He glanced up at me. “Or should I lie down on the bed?”

  “No,” I said a little forcefully. “No, the chair is fine.”

  Despite his having slept through the night, the linen still looked clean but for a circle of blood from the wound. Just thinking of the warning signs I needed to look for when I examined him helped to bring a sense of calm over me. This was familiar ground to me, and therefore, stable.

  “It may hurt a bit when I pull this away,” I said, pointing to the linen covering his wound, “but I need to be sure there are no longer any signs of infection.”

  “I’ll try to be the model patient,” he said with a smile that was more of a grimace.

  As gently as I could, I peeled back the linen from his wound, but parts of it had adhered a bit to his skin where his body had started to heal. He sucked in his breath with a hiss, and I glanced at him. “I’m sorry to cause you pain.”

  When I saw the wound beneath the skin, I was relieved to see no red streaking, pus, or any other signs of infection. The area was still red and raw, but certainly healing. “You’ll need to continue eating garlic to stave off infection, but it’s much better.” I looked over at the small table where I’d first prepared his poultice and was pleased to find it still had the necessary herbs.

  “I’ll prepare another poultice,” I said, moving toward the table of herbs and water.

  “It’s healing quickly, thanks to you,” he said. “Perhaps you will consider staying on as my healer.”

  It surprised me how much such a thing appealed to me. To be a healer like Babushka had been in the village, to do something everyone would recognize as a valuable role. Being a healer for the prince was infinitely better than being a weapon. Still, I would keep my true thoughts to myself. I turned and smiled at him. “Perhaps.”

  “Why did you leave, Katya? I would have let you go to your village if you’d asked,” the prince said, watching me. “Have I made it seem like I would forbid you anything? Because I assure you, that’s not the case.”

  “So I would have needed your permission?” I asked, quietly but firmly.

  He let out a frustrated breath. “No, but when I first discovered you had gone . . . and Grigory had not yet roused the militia . . . I will admit that I was afraid for you.”

  “Because you didn’t want to lose the chance to use my power against your enemy?” I hadn’t intended to say it; I immediately regretted it, for his expression could only be described as thunderstruck.

  He didn’t answer at first, only reached out and touched my arm, so that the warmth from his body mingled with the cold from mine. “I was afraid because I care about you. De
spite everything you’ve been through, you’ve never been anything but courageous and resilient. But even knowing that, I wasn’t sure why you’d leave. Especially after your village treated you the way they did.”

  “I overheard you and Grigory talking about the threat to nearby villages. It wasn’t the other villagers I wanted to save—it was my babushka. I couldn’t bear to be here, safe, while she was in danger.” I could feel his intense gaze on me, and I ground the herbs still harder in the pestle.

  “I am sorry, Katya. I’m sorry for your loss and the destruction of your village.”

  “My babushka was still alive when I made it there—barely. Long enough for me to make amends,” I said quietly. Long enough to discover some of the truths of my origins.

  The sound of the pestle grinding was the only sound in the room for a moment.

  I brought the poultice and the fresh linens to his side, and he looked up at me. “Amends for what?”

  Carefully, I spread the aromatic poultice into his wound. “Because I betrayed her kindness with death.”

  When I placed the clean linen over his chest and bound it, he touched my hand with his. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  I shook my head sadly. “It was my fault. Just because it wasn’t my intention doesn’t leave me blameless in their deaths. In his death.”

  “Will you tell me what happened?”

  I made a noise that was like a creature in pain and took a step back. “You already know.”

  “I know what your village elder told me.”

  “I’m sure he told you the truth,” I said, already turning away.

  “Please,” he said, stopping me. “I would hear it from you.”

  I didn’t want to relive that terrible night, but it was his calm silence that encouraged me to speak. It wasn’t until I was in the midst of telling him that I realized how much I needed this, how much it had been eating me from within like a poison. The prince listened quietly, even as my voice faltered, even as I told him I’d killed Dedushka.

  “I’m sorry for what happened to your dedushka,” he said as I swallowed tears. “I’m sorry you were pushed to that point.”

  “But you see, it was my fault. And now I have lost them both.”

  For a moment, there was only the soft crackling of the fire before us. I thought he would finally see what a monster I was, how the villagers were right all along, but then he said, “I think you were trying to protect someone you loved, but you didn’t know how. I know what it feels like to lose the people who raised you—it’s a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone, especially you.”

  I met his gaze, somehow only just realizing how much we had experienced similar things . . . despite my being common born and he the grand prince of Kievan Rus’.

  “There is something I would ask you,” he said, holding out his hand for me to sit in the chair across from his again. “A request.”

  I nodded as I took my seat.

  “Given what you overheard just before the battle, that they will soon have enough forces to march on Kiev, I have no choice but to seek out alliances from Constantinople—the city my mother was princess of before she married my father. It’s time I set things straight with my mother’s family—that they know the people of Kievan Rus’ are not to blame for my parents’ deaths. That I am not to blame. If I had their army—even a small part of their army—I could easily defend Kiev and go on the offensive on behalf of the nearby boyars, too.” He leaned toward me. “But I must do this quickly. I plan to journey south in only a few days. Will you accompany me?”

  My gaze jumped to his. “Travel . . . all the way to the Byzantine Empire?”

  He nodded. “Kharan will come along, too, as well as Ivan and Boris and other members of my bogatyri. And you will have your tent.”

  The last made me smile in spite of my fear of leaving my homeland for the biggest city in the world. “Forgive me, but what good would it be for me to come along?”

  “Because I think you can help me—there’s so much more I think my mother never told me about the fire ability I have, and I think Constantinople holds the answers. There is also someone we will meet on this journey who can give you greater advice on how to control your power—how to bend it to your will.” His gaze caught and held mine as he turned toward me. “But the selfish truth is, I just want you to come with me.”

  This silenced me like nothing else could. Part of me was afraid of his words, afraid he didn’t mean them, and even more afraid he did. I hadn’t dared hope that I could form a friendship with the prince, but now . . . now I didn’t know what to think. And the journey itself—so far from Kievan Rus’—that was farther than I’d ever traveled in my life. But I thought of my village and Babushka. Of the powerful earth elementals, and I knew:

  I would no longer sit back and do nothing.

  “I will go with you,” I said. “Someone needs to look after your wound.”

  He laughed. “Whatever you must tell yourself, so long as you come. Now, I’ve kept you from supper, I’m sure.”

  I checked his bandage one more time. “Be sure to eat and rest, especially if we are to go on this long journey so soon.”

  “I don’t know about resting, but I can certainly eat,” he said. “Be sure to seek out Vera and do the same.”

  I dipped my head. “Good night.”

  “Katya,” he said, and I stopped, “I’m glad you’re coming with me.”

  “Thank you, Sasha,” I said, willing my skin not to ice over with embarrassment. “I think I’m glad I’m coming with you, too.”

  I felt his gaze on me as I left, and a little tendril of warmth stirred inside me, chasing away the cold.

  Chapter Fifteen

  IT DIDN’T SEEM TO TAKE SASHA long to recover fully. Only a few days later, as the morning dawned overcast and winter gray, we received word that everything was ready for our journey, as the prince’s men had used the time he spent recuperating to prepare. There were two sleighs carrying supplies—food, weapons, trunks of clothing, and the tents. One sleigh remained empty, and I wondered if it would be for Sasha while the rest of us rode horses.

  The horses called to one another in the dvor and stamped their feet, ready to be off, as I slowly made my way toward the chaos in my newly cleaned rubhaka and red skirt. I’d found a coat as white as snow to wear on top, made of wool and silver fox fur. Vera had helped me pack a trunk, and in it she’d piled the beautiful clothing the prince had given me; I didn’t dare argue with her, for she seemed determined.

  On my arm was Elation, who’d spent the past two days sleeping in my room at night and hunting in the nearby woods by day. I wasn’t sure she’d travel all the way to Constantinople with us, but I didn’t want to leave her behind, especially now that she was the only connection I had left to my past.

  “Katya,” a voice called, and I turned to find Kharan moving toward me. She was leading Daichin, and he looked more alert than I’d seen him before, with head held high and ears pricked forward.

  I hadn’t seen her since she returned from her latest mission—to find just how close the Drevlians and Novgorodians were to marching on Kiev. Not close enough that the journey had to be aborted, but still, there was an anxiety in the air. The city militia, too, had been called to arms, and there were soldiers everywhere. They were heavily concentrated around the palace; I was sure we would find them at every gate. Even in the distance, I could see archers patrolling the wall.

  “I was relieved you agreed to come with us,” she said, taking hold of my arms and touching both of my cheeks with hers in greeting. “The prince had mentioned that he would ask you, and I was afraid you’d say no and leave me alone with these bearish oafs.”

  I smiled, and she smiled back, and for a moment, we were just two friends about to embark on an adventure . . . until I remembered all that it entailed. “I’m sure I’ll be glad I’ve agreed to come, too—I know we will see things I’ve never even dreamed of before, but I’m also intimidated by traveling so far.”


  She gazed out into the distance, as though she could already see the marble city. “It will all be worth it once we reach Constantinople.”

  I thought of traveling far beyond the boundaries of Kievan Rus’, of entering an empire I couldn’t even imagine. “This journey will test us all, I think.”

  All around us, men started to go to their horses to prepare to leave. I looked for the prince and for Ivan and Boris, but I didn’t see them yet. I stepped closer to Kharan and lowered my voice. “The Byzantines, they are kin to the prince?” She nodded. “Then why did they not believe the prince when he said his parents were assassinated?”

  “They believe they were assassinated; they just don’t know who is to blame. The Drevlian prince and the Novgorodian prince were once part of Kiev. It is only in the past two years that they have established their princedoms—with the help of the Varangians—the Northmen,” she added when I looked confused. “The Byzantines blame all of Kievan Rus’ because they don’t know who was responsible, and even the prince is under suspicion for the death of his mother, the Byzantine princess.”

  “How could they think that? It’s horrible.”

  “They were killed in their beds,” Kharan said, her voice a mere whisper now. “With the palace well guarded, it had to have been someone close to them.”

  Ivan and Boris entered the dvor then, followed by the prince, and Kharan said no more about it. I watched Sasha talking to his bogatyri, a smile on his young face, surveying with approval all that had been prepared. Now that I knew him better, it was hard to believe I had ever thought him capable of all the terrible things I’d been told. But as fierce as his reputation was, I could also understand how such rumors would influence the Byzantines.

  “Katya,” Sasha called, interrupting my thoughts. “Come. This is for you.”

  I walked over to where he stood by the sleigh, his hand on the reins of a beautiful white horse. He gestured toward the sleigh beside him, and suddenly I realized he meant for me to ride in it—while everyone else rode horses. “Oh no, I couldn’t. This is a sleigh for the prince, not the likes of me.”