The Bear and the Nightingale(76)

“Will you not?” said Anna. Her eyes were wild, but something in her bearing reminded Vasya that her father was a Grand Prince. “Very well, Vasilisa Petrovna. I will give you a choice.” Her eyes darted around the room and fastened on the white flowers adorning Irina’s kerchief. “My daughter, my true, fair, and obedient daughter, is weary in all this snow for the sight of green things. You, ugly witch of a girl, will do her a service. Go out into the woods and bring her back a basket of snowdrops. If you do, you will be free to do as you like hereafter.”

Irina gaped. Konstantin had his mouth open in alarmed protest.

Vasya stared blankly at her stepmother. “Anna Ivanovna, it is midwinter.”

“Go!” screeched Anna, laughing wildly. “Out of my sight! Bring me flowers or go to the convent! Now get you gone!”

Vasya looked from face to face: Anna triumphant, Irina frightened, Alyosha furious, Konstantin inscrutable. The walls seemed to shrink again; the fire burned up all the air, so that no matter how her lungs heaved, she could not draw breath. Terror overtook her, the terror of the wild thing in the trap. She turned and ran from the kitchen.

Alyosha caught her at the outer door. She had yanked on her boots and mittens, wrapped a cloak about her and a shawl about her head. He seized her with both hands, turned her around.

“Have you gone mad, Vasya?”

“Let me go! You heard Anna Ivanovna. I’d rather take my chances in the forest than be locked up forever.” She was shaking, wild-eyed.

“All that is nonsense. Wait for Father to return.”

“Father has agreed to it!” Vasya swallowed back the tears, but still they crept down her cheeks. “Anna would not have dared otherwise. People say our misfortunes are my fault. Do you think I have not heard? I will be stoned as a witch if I stay. Perhaps Father is trying to protect me. But I’d rather die in the forest than in a convent.” Her voice broke. “I will never be a nun—do you hear me? Never!” She yanked away from him, but Alyosha held her tightly.

“I will guard you until Father returns. I will make him see sense.”

“You cannot protect me if every man of the village turns on us. Do you think I have not heard their whispers, brother?”

“So you mean to go into the woods and die?” snapped Alyosha. “A noble sacrifice? How will that help anyone?”

“I have helped all I can, and earned the people’s hatred,” retorted Vasya. “If this is the last decision I can ever make, at least it is my decision. Let me go, Alyosha. I am not afraid.”

“But I am, you stupid girl! Do you think I want to lose you to this folly? I won’t let you go.” Surely he would leave fingermarks on her shoulders where he held her.

“You as well, brother?” said Vasya furiously. “Am I a child? Always someone else must decide for me. But this I will decide for myself.”

“If Father or Kolya went mad, I wouldn’t let him decide things for himself, either.”

“Let me go, Alyosha.”

He shook his head.

Her voice softened. “Perhaps there is magic in the forest, enough for me to defy Anna Ivanovna; did you think of that?”

Alyosha laughed shortly. “You are too old for fairy tales.”

“Am I?” said Vasya. She smiled at him, though her lips trembled.

Alyosha remembered suddenly all the times her eyes had moved, following things that he could not see. His arms fell away. They looked at each other.

“Vasya—promise me I will see you again.”

“Give bread to the domovoi,” said Vasya. “Watch by the oven at night. Courage might save you. I have done what I can. Farewell, brother. I—I will try to come back.”

“Vasya—”

But she had slipped out the kitchen door.

Father Konstantin was waiting for her beside the door of the church. “Are you mad, Vasilisa Petrovna?”

Her green eyes flew up to his, mocking now. The tears had dried; she was cold and steady. “But Batyushka, I must obey my stepmother.”

“Then go take your vows.”

Vasya laughed. “She will see me gone; dead, or vowed; she doesn’t care. Well, I will please myself and her as well.”

“Forget your mad folly. You will be vowed. It will be as God wills, and he has willed it so.”

“Has he?” said Vasya. “And you are the voice of God, I presume. Well, I was given a choice and I am taking it.” She turned toward the wood.

“You are not,” said Konstantin, and something in his voice had Vasya spinning round. Two men stepped out of the shadows.

“Put her in the church tonight, and bind her hands,” said Konstantin, never taking his eyes from Vasya. “She will leave at dawn.”

Vasya was already running. But she had only three strides’ head start and they were very strong. One of them reached out, and his hand snagged on the hem of her cloak. She tripped and sprawled, rolling, striking out, panicked. The man flung himself on her, held her down. The snow was cold on her neck. She felt the scrape of icy rope on her wrists.

She forced herself to go limp, as though she had fainted in her fright. The man was more used to tying dead beasts for carrying; his grip relaxed while he fumbled with the rope. Vasya heard the footsteps as the priest and the other man approached.