Dan Smith - Red Winter

‘I’ve been travelling a long time. I’m hungry. Cold. Please.’

The man stared at me, thinking it over. ‘We’ll fix the horse first,’ he said. ‘Then we’ll see.’

‘All right,’ I said, stepping closer to the fence and putting out my hand. ‘My name is Kolya.’

The man looked at my hand as if he didn’t know what to do. To not take it would be an insult, but the alternative would bring him close to me.

I waited for him to make up his mind, standing with my arm stretched across the fence until he finally stepped forward and took it, shaking once and saying, ‘Lev.’ It was in that moment of friendship and peace, when he had lowered his guard, that I could have killed him.

It would have been the easiest thing in the world for me to pull him towards me, slip the revolver from my pocket and shoot him dead, or take the knife from inside my coat and put the steel in him. Instead I looked him in the eye and felt the warmth of his hand and the hesitant offer of friendship.

Then we broke away and he stepped back.

‘Stay there,’ he said.

He backed off to the izba , eyes still on me, only stopping when he reached the front door. He knocked once and the door eased open, just a crack.

I moved my hands towards my coat pocket, seeking the reassurance of my pistol, anticipating danger. I almost expected soldiers to burst from the house, but all I saw was a glimpse of Lev’s son at the opening.

They spoke for a second, then the door shut and I heard bolts being drawn across. Lev returned, standing on the other side of the fence as if he was reconsidering his offer.

‘Please,’ I said. ‘My horse will go lame without help. I mean no harm. I swear it.’

‘On the lives of your children?’ he asked. ‘Devil take you?’

It was a serious request, especially considering I didn’t know where Misha and Pavel were, but I really didn’t mean this man and his son any harm.

‘On their lives,’ I said, letting him see how solemn this vow was. ‘Devil take me.’

Lev nodded and swung the gate open, stepping back, gesturing towards the barn. ‘Come,’ he said.

‘And the dog?’

‘I don’t think he’ll hurt you.’

I stepped towards the animal, holding out my hand, and he came forward to take my scent. He was just over knee height on me, solid-looking, but his stomach was becoming hollow and his ribs were beginning to show through his coat. He showed me no more aggression, allowing me to run my hand over his head and rub one of his ears in my fingers.

Satisfied the dog was comfortable with me, I led Kashtan through the gate towards the closed door of the barn. She had known dogs in her time but seemed a little nervous of this one. If he came too close, he might frighten her, so I kept her head forward and away from the animal.

Lev might have shaken my hand, but he wasn’t naive enough to trust me. He walked behind us, shotgun in hand, exactly as I would have done in his position. The nape of my neck tingled with anticipation and I told myself to relax. I was accustomed to dealing with threat, rather than deferring to it, but I needed Kashtan to stay calm. If she detected my anxiety, it would heighten her own. I also understood Lev’s need to protect what was his.

‘Open it,’ he said.

I stopped, slipping a hand into my pocket and curling my fingers round my revolver. I had no idea what was in that barn. It might be filled with soldiers waiting to hang me from the nearest tree or flay the skin from my back.

‘Something wrong?’ he asked.

I looked up at Kashtan to see if she showed any sign of fear. She was a good judge of a situation and she communicated her feelings with a turn of her ears or a swish of her tail, but she seemed more relaxed than she had been for a while and I took it as a good sign.

‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘It’s been a long ride.’ I took my hand from my pocket and gripped the door handle, taking a deep breath and pulling it wide.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness inside the barn, but Kashtan showed no hesitation. She pushed past me and went in where it was warm and there was a heavy smell of horses. When I followed, I looked about, seeing armatures on the near wall, one of which had a saddle on it and others that held assorted tack – halters, bridles, stirrups – some of which looked old and unusable. There was a door in the rear wall of the barn, bolted shut from the inside, and close to it, a second horse grazed on hay piled in the corner. Another mare, taller than Kashtan, almost black and with white socks on her front feet. She hardly even looked up at us, just a quick glance that displayed the white blaze on her nose.

‘She’s beautiful,’ I said.

‘Light that.’ Lev pointed to a lamp hanging from a nail in one of the barn’s supports, then pushed past and went to Kashtan.

I closed the door, shutting out the bleak landscape I had travelled through that day, and put a match to the wick. A warm glow filled the area about us, contrasting with the harsh greys and blacks that had filled my day. It was the most comfort I had felt since the fire last night, and I allowed myself a moment to enjoy the relative safety, hidden from the dangers outside.

Lev told me to stay there. ‘Where I can see you,’ he said.

The big dog lay down close to me, his head up and his tongue lolling from one side of his mouth.

Lev turned Kashtan so she was between us, protecting him from anything I might do, then he placed his shotgun within easy reach and lifted her foot to remove the binding. He had made an attempt to shield himself using my horse, but he was not accustomed to situations like this. If our roles were reversed, I would have remained armed while I told the other man to remove the binding. Lev was not a soldier, I was sure of that, but neither did he have the complexion of a farmer. And that suggested he didn’t belong here any more than I did.

He looked over at me time and again as he worked, afraid to take his eyes off me as he inspected the damage to Kashtan’s hoof. He never once turned his back on me, always kept Kashtan between us, and whenever he moved, he brought the shotgun with him, keeping it close to hand at all times. He was a sensible man. Though I had extended a hand of friendship, he was still wary of the dangers I might present, and his fear made me nervous. I wondered what small act it would take for me to make him feel he needed to use that weapon. Perhaps just a movement in the wrong direction.

‘I’d be happier if you put the shotgun away,’ I said. ‘You don’t need it.’

‘I’ll keep it with me for now.’ He paused, watching me. ‘You have your rifle.’

‘I don’t need it.’ I shrugged it off my shoulder, making him lift the shotgun. ‘I’m just putting it down,’ I said, holding it out in front of me with one hand and placing it on the floor before stepping away from it. ‘There. It’s down.’

The dog came to see what I had put on the floor, sniffing it before going back to lie in the straw, this time putting his head on his paws as if bored by what was happening in the barn. Kashtan watched the animal, but was less bothered than before. She saw that I was not afraid of him and that bolstered her confidence.

Lev lowered the shotgun and took a deep breath. ‘This hoof’s not too bad. I can fix this.’

‘And shoe her?’

‘Of course.’

‘While holding a shotgun?’

Lev said nothing.

‘I’m sorry. Look, I really don’t mean any harm.’ I turned to one side so he couldn’t see as I took a fold of money from my coat pocket, counting off three roubles before tucking the rest away and holding the notes out to him. ‘For the work, some oats for my horse… and for a meal and a bed.’