Heart of Iron - Ekaterina Sedia [82]
I waited patiently for my turn, my hunger growing with every passing minute, so that by the time I received a scalding-hot plate with a stack of golden pancakes and a small dab of sour cream dwarfed by a spreading lake of melted butter, all thoughts other than those related to my meal became but a distant whisper deep in the recesses of my mind.
I burned my mouth with my first bite, but did not care—it was as if today’s fear in the fire, concern over Jack, and worry about the lost letter had all combined to push me toward focusing on the very basics of survival, one of which was eating. As it turned out, another instinct—and one I had been neglecting—was paying attention to my surroundings.
I regretted, at times, leaving behind the female world inhabited by my mother; I even missed the gray, ambiguous area where my Aunt Eugenia dwelled—the world of influence and responsibility, where she still wore female clothes and relied on men to exercise her influence. Now I was truly on my own, alone, and dressed as a man, ready to cut my swath through the world as men did. I gritted my teeth and felt determined, and only because of that was I able to not weep with relief when a familiar voice called out, “Poruchik!” One needed friends, I had discovered, even in the male world—especially in the male world.
Rotmistr Ivankov grinned at me, and both cornets nodded politely.
It was all that I could do not to rush over and embrace him. “Rotmistr! I wished I had had a chance to thank you for your timely intervention in Moscow. Please, join me.”
The rotmistr sat next to me, the bench creaking under his bulk, and sent the cornets to procure pancakes with a flick of his wrist. “No need, lad. You did well enough by sending those reinforcements our way.”
I nodded, grateful for his willingness to play along with my disguise, even though I suspected he could see through it as easily as Dame Nightingale. If he addressed me as “miss,” it would’ve been awkward. “I am sorry we could not stay to help.”
He waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Worry not. We can certainly understand the need to get away in a hurry. Speaking of which, where’s your friend?”
When the cornets came back with food, I told them about the fire and the missing Jack, and they nodded along, suitably concerned-looking. It was good to have friends—and the rotmistr and his cornets certainly felt like very old ones. “But how did you get here so quickly?” I asked.
The rotmistr smirked. “Remember when I complained about horses not being quick enough? Wouldn’t you know, there are now trains that carry cargo, and they take horses too.” He laughed happily and opened his arms and eyes simultaneously wide, surprised and delighted by such development. However, he stopped smiling when he saw my face. “What’s the matter, lad? Don’t you think horses might enjoy being passengers every now and again?”
I shook my head. “Nothing against your horses or your hussars, rotmistr, but I wonder why they suddenly decided to start transporting soldiers east? I thought you were on garrison duty?”
He confirmed with a nod and frowned. “I suppose freight trains would be useful for trading. It is just incidental that they used them for troops.”
“Your orders said nothing about any urgency of your journey to Turkestan then? Nothing about heightened preparedness for military action?”
He scowled. “Tell you what, son. If you’re so smart and well-connected, why don’t you join us—we are leaving tomorrow, and we can keep you company at least to Turkestan. If your