Dan Smith - The Child Thief

I nodded.

‘Walk.’

Dariya squeezed my hand and looked up at me, pulling me on, encouraging me to quicken my pace and catch up with the others. I caught sight of Evgeni leaning out of the line and looking back, and I nodded to him, showed him a forced smile and mouthed to him that I was all right.

The walk was slow and painful, and I was not the only one to hinder the column. Ahead there were old men, women, people who were sicker from hunger than I was, more infused with the cold than I was. Some of these people had been walking for many hours already, and their stop in Sushne had been their only rest. And I had seen no sign of food.

As we came to the spot where I had been arrested by the two soldiers, I watched the trees, hoping my sons had made it home.

At times the line lagged, someone would fall to their knees, be dragged up by the guards, supported by their friends or walking partners. And from one of those occasions, from the misfortune of another, a little luck came to me.

We had been walking for less than half an hour when one of the prisoners in the middle of the line collapsed and was unable to get up. The guards called for us to stop and Andrei came from the head of the column. I shuffled to one side so I could see along the line of bodies, watching as the guard dismounted and tried to drag the man to his feet, but he was a deadweight.

Andrei called to one of the soldiers from the rear, the young man who had told me to keep walking, and together they tried to pull the old man to his feet, but each time he collapsed back into the snow.

The horses snickered, stepping back and forth on the road, their bridles clinking. Yakov, who was still mounted, controlled his own ride and came to take the reins of the other while the guards struggled with the prisoner. I glanced behind at the single soldier at the rear of the column, and then ahead at the other three, all of them watching the old man. I considered if I would be able to overpower the guard behind me. I was old and the guard was young. I was tired and weak and slow with cold, but perhaps I could take him by surprise.

I looked back at him again, seeing that he was focused on what was happening up ahead. He was distracted. But when I glanced along the line for a last check, Yakov had turned, pulling his horse’s head round, trotting the length of the line, shouting at us to get back into pairs and reform the column.

I moved back into the line, any hope of surprise now gone, and watched the soldiers struggle with the old man’s weight. He looked close to death. His bony frame was malnourished, and every time they pulled him to his feet, his knees buckled, his ankles twisted and he collapsed back onto the road. I wondered how long I could go on before I was the same.

The guards made the same assessment of the old man as I did, and Andrei squatted beside him and removed a glove. He put his naked fingers to the man’s neck and looked away while he felt for a pulse. After a moment or two he stood and replaced his glove. Then he and the other soldier each took an arm and dragged the old man to the side of the road, laying him in the snow. He was dead, or dying, and they were going to leave him behind.

When the order went out to continue walking, we began shuffling again. Andrei had remounted his horse, but instead of returning to the head of the pitiful column, he trotted back and turned his horse so he was alongside me.

‘I’m sorry for what happened to you,’ he said.

I looked up at him.

‘You found your daughter.’

‘Yes.’

‘Only she isn’t your daughter, she’s your niece.’

I gripped Dariya’s hand tighter. ‘Lermentov told me you were in Vyriv.’ I was almost afraid to ask, afraid to know what had happened in my village.

Andrei nodded. ‘I spoke to your wife. Natalia Ivanovna.’

For a moment it was as if there was no cold. The crippling temperature that clouded my thoughts was pushed aside and everything was clear. The mention of her was enough to remind me what I had to get home for, and I was encouraged that I was not too exhausted and too numb to feel uplifted by the sound of my wife’s name.

‘Is she all right?’ I asked.

Andrei’s face softened. ‘She was when I saw her. And your daughter. Larissa.’

‘My beautiful Lara.’ I had made her a promise. I had told her I would bring Dariya home. And now my heart was filled with both relief and fear. They were safe, but for how long I had no idea. ‘What will happen to them?’

Andrei glanced away. ‘I don’t know.’ Then he looked down at the girl beside me. ‘It’s good you found her.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I’m sorry this happened to you,’ he said again, and as we came to the place where the old man had collapsed, I looked over at the body lying at the side of the road. Andrei halted his horse, making me turn to look up at him again, and when our eyes met, the young soldier nodded once.

At first I was confused, but then I understood what he wanted me to do.

I took a tentative step out of line, and the guard tightened his reins, pulling back the horse’s head, a slight turn. I could smell its sweet breath, the faint odour of its sweat.

‘Be quick,’ Andrei said.

Dariya refused to let go of my hand when I left the line of prisoners, and I had to yank it from her grip in order to get to the side of the road.

The old man’s skin was cold and lifeless, his glazed eyes staring, unseeing, at the clear sky. I pulled his arms from the sleeves of the coat, heaving his body to roll it over and slip the garment away. I dusted the snow from it and drew it around me, feeling the last of the old man’s warmth. I fastened it tight and looked down at the corpse.

‘Go,’ the soldier told me. ‘Get back in line.’

Ignoring the order, I bent down to roll the old man onto his back again, turning his face to the sky, thinking no man should be left face down at the side of the road. There was something like a smile on his lips. In the bell tower Kostya had been pleased to be leaving this place, and perhaps this old man too had found some peace in his last moments. A single, clear and pleasant thought to send him from this world to whatever might be waiting beyond. I thought about my own feelings not long ago when I had considered the peace of giving up. But I had something to live for. Natalia and Lara were safe for now, and Dariya needed me. I had promised to take her home, but if that was not to be, then at least I could stay with her, protect her. And seeing the old man with his dead blue eyes turned to the sky, the pupils widened in the relief of death, I knew there was no easy way out for me. My own relief would not yet come.

I closed the man’s eyes with my fingertips and thanked him for his coat.

Behind me Dariya stood silent, her hand outstretched for mine. I showed her a smile and took her hand, joining the back of the line with a new-found strength. I had boots on my feet and a coat on my back. I was better off now than I had been this morning. Today would not be a bad day. Something was watching over me.

I walked now with my head up and my eyes facing forward. Beside me Dariya continued without speaking, but from time to time her small hand squeezed mine as if to reassure herself of my presence. I no longer watched my feet and considered falling to my knees. I was still tired and I was still hungry, but my resolve had hardened like iron in the cold, and I was determined not to fall by the side of the road as the previous owner of my coat had done. We were at the back of the line, two soldiers on foot behind us. We were best placed and I was waiting for the right moment. And then we would make our escape.

Ahead of us the column continued to shuffle. Stopping and starting. The aggressive Yakov reined his horse back from time to time, shouting an order, waiting for the line to pass him so he could watch each prisoner. I didn’t look up to meet his eye, but I could feel his stare every time he was close.