Russka - Edward Rutherfurd [116]
There were dozens of ways of joining logs, she discovered. They could be cut round or square, they could be laid this way or that, notched or slotted one into another. What to her had seemed an endless collection of stout, rather brutal wooden houses was to him a mass of elaborate puzzles to be solved and enjoyed as he passed.
‘There are more ways of building a simple izba than you would dream of,’ he told her. ‘And the master carpenters of Novgorod know them all.’
Yet though he appreciated the city and knew every building in it, she soon discovered that he missed the native forests of his childhood.
‘We lived in the woods, out by the Volga,’ he told her. And he would enumerate for her all the trees and plants of the region. When he spoke of buildings, it was with a keen professional appreciation; but when he spoke of the forests, a dreamy, faraway look came into his eyes, and she felt for him.
But the greatest surprise came the fourth day they met. She had stopped in the church in front of an icon depicting Christ holding an open book on which some words were written.
‘“Judge not according to the appearance, but judge righteous judgement,”’ Purgas said, reading the text.
She stared at him in amusement.
‘You can read too?’
‘Yes. I learned here in Novgorod.’
A Mordvinian, a mere Finn from the forests, who could read.
It was at this moment that Yanka made up her mind.
That very evening, she went to Milei the boyar and told him what she wanted.
‘Well,’ she asked, when she had finished, ‘you had what you wanted from me. Will you help me now?’
To her surprise, he smiled kindly. He even gave her some useful advice.
‘Now tell me again the name of this merchant and where he lives,’ he said. And then: ‘You don’t actually know if this young man wants …?’
She shook her head.
‘But I think he will,’ she replied.
The very next morning, Milei arranged the matter.
‘It will cost me a pretty penny though,’ he remarked with a wry smile. ‘However, the priests will approve.’ The church encouraged the liberation of slaves.
He could be kindly, Yanka realized; for the ability to be generous is a pleasant exercise for powerful men.
And so, that afternoon, she turned to Purgas outside the church and asked: ‘Would you like to marry me? My master will buy your freedom if you want.’
He looked thunderstruck.
‘I wanted to ask,’ he confessed. ‘But as a slave, I was afraid …’
‘There are conditions,’ she went on. She had thought very carefully about this; and it was Milei who had coached her, rather reluctantly, in what to do. ‘We shall leave the city and live near my village – but not as a boyar’s peasants,’ she added quickly. That was one thing she knew she did not want. ‘We shall be free. We’ll live on the Black Lands and pay rent only to the prince himself.’
Despite everything, she wanted to be near her father. If anything happened, at least he would be there. But she did not want to be in the same village; nor did she wish to have Milei as a landlord any more.
‘Go to the Black Land, then,’ Milei had told her. ‘There’s Black Land with good soil – chernozem – right next to Russka. The prince is glad to get peasants on his land. You’ll get good terms and you could do very well.’
Hearing this, to her relief Purgas laughed. There was nothing in the world he wanted more.
‘That’s settled then,’ he said.
It was: almost.
‘There is one other thing,’ she began hesitantly, and looked down at her feet.
He waited.
‘Once, a long time ago …’ she paused. ‘When I was just a girl … It was a Tatar, they came to the village.’
He stared at her, not comprehending for a moment. Then he gently drew her to him and kissed her on the forehead.
They left two days later with Milei, who allowed them to follow him in a second sled.
When at last they reached the place on the River Kliasma where the stream led down to Russka, he parted from them.
He had been distant on the journey, as a boyar might be with a pair of almost slaves. But at the moment of parting he called Yanka over to him.
His worldly, clever face was not unkind as,