There are things no one can ever know, I supposed.
For the first time in a while, I found myself missing Master Lo Feng, feeling his loss acutely. He’d always had a way of putting everything into perspective. I pictured him smiling, folding his hands into his wide sleeves.
All ways lead to the Way, Moirin.
“Moirin?”
“Aye?” I was startled out of my reverie by Vachir’s voice, realizing I was standing and gazing into space, my hands sunk deep into floury wheat-dough. Arigh and I had been making meat-filled dumplings.
He gave a low chuckle, reaching out to rub a smudge of flour from my cheek; and indeed, there was a father’s tenderness in his touch. “We were planning to return to Tatar territory in a week’s time, but if we conclude our bargains swiftly, we can be on our way the day after tomorrow. Will you and your young companion accompany us? It will be safer for you,” he added.
“I will,” I said without hesitating, glancing at Aleksei.
Vachir followed my gaze. “And the boy?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
Arigh laid her hand on my shoulder, squeezing it in gentle sympathy. “Talk to him.”
After supper, I did.
It was hard, harder than I had reckoned. Everyone else in the ger gave us a wide berth. I sat cross-legged opposite Aleksei, drawing a deep breath.
“Are you angry at me?” I asked without mincing words. “I do not blame you if you are.”
“Angry?” he echoed, his voice soft. “No… not angry, Moirin.”
“Disappointed?”
Aleksei frowned in thought. “No, I’m… I don’t know. I understand, I do. And I cannot blame you, not really. After all, he was sentencing you to death. All you wanted was to be left alone. It’s just…” He shook his head. “It shocked me nonetheless. Are you angry at me for trying to stop you?”
“No.” I took his hand, holding it lightly. He tensed, but he didn’t pull away. “You would not be who you are if you hadn’t, sweet boy. Only I would have you know, I did not do it solely out of hatred or a desire for vengeance.”
His brows knit. “No?”
I stroked his palm. “Long ago, my ancestors among the Maghuin Dhonn had the gift of scrying the future in the stone circles, seeing all the different paths that might come to pass and trying to choose among them. It is a gift we abandoned voluntarily after choosing unwisely, after Berlik was cursed.”
“I know,” Aleksei murmured.
“It’s not a gift the Maghuin Dhonn Herself withdrew from us, Aleksei,” I said softly. “And I have seen visions of the future I did not seek. I saw one in the temple that day, do you remember?”
He nodded.
“It happened once before, too. On the battlefield in Ch’in.” I kept my voice low and steady, realizing he was listening. “I saw a vision of a terrible future, one that should never be allowed to come to pass. I saw another one today, written in your uncle’s eyes.” Pausing, I debated whether or not to tell him that his uncle would have been willing to sacrifice Aleksei to his cause. “Your uncle’s threat wasn’t an idle one, Aleksei. I saw our deaths give rise to a future of war and bloodshed in Yeshua’s name, in which D’Angelines and the Maghuin Dhonn alike were persecuted for their nature. And that is what I sought to avert.”
Aleksei swallowed, his throat working. “Even so… you didn’t even hesitate, Moirin!”
“I warned him,” I said. “Beyond that, I didn’t dare.”
He looked away, and then looked back, gazing at his hand resting loosely in mine. Gently and regretfully, he extricated his hand. “I believe you,” he said in a quiet voice. “I do. But I think our paths part here.”
“You’re sure?” I asked.
“Yes.” Aleksei smiled with sorrow; and it was a man’s smile, not a boy’s. “You’ll be safe with Vachir and his men. You have given me so much, Moirin. I suspect I will spend a lifetime contemplating its purpose in God’s plan. But you are not for me, and I am not for you. I will free you to seek out this stubborn peasant-boy Bao, who carries half of the soul-spark of your unknowable bear-goddess within him.”
“What will you do?” I whispered. “Where will you go?”
His wide shoulders rose and fell in a faint shrug. “I will stay here in Vralia, where I am meant to be, and try to determine what God and Yeshua will of me. Mayhap I’ll make my way west to seek out a yeshiva where the wisdom of Rebbe Avraham ben David is taught. Once I know I can care for her, I’ll send for my mother.”
My eyes stung.
“Don’t cry, Moirin,” he pleaded with me.
“I’m not!” I lied.
Aleksei shifted, kneeling, and cupped my face. “You are,” he said softly, tenderly. “And it’s all right. I do love you. I will always love you.” He smiled again, his expression transcendent, his blue, blue eyes filled with light. “And I will convince the world to do so, too; or at least my small corner of it.”
He kissed me.
I kissed him back, and sniffled. “I will miss you.”
“So will I.”
FORTY-FIVE
Two days later, Aleksei and I parted forever.
It hurt.
It always hurts, leaving a loved one behind. I hadn’t meant to love Aleksei. Until the moment I knew I had lost him, I hadn’t realized I did love him.
Naamah’s curse, indeed.
Gods, he was such a gentle soul! He watched me depart amid Vachir’s company of Tatars, following a southern tributary of the Ude River. He smiled in farewell, tall and broad-shouldered, raising one hand in a salute.
Our destinies tore and parted.
“May you find yours, sweet boy,” I murmured under my breath. “May you reshape your Church in a kinder, gentler image.”
I hoped he would be safe and well. I didn’t like leaving him with the Patriarch’s threat hanging over him. Aleksei had helped me escape, and he had refused to renounce me. On the other hand, he had saved his uncle’s life, and all of Udinsk had watched him do it. And I couldn’t protect him. Even if he had been willing to come with us as far as the Tatar lands, he would have returned to Vralia afterward. It was his home.
Over his protests, I’d left him one of the saddle-horses and half the remaining coin from selling the chains, along with a few supplies. Left to his own devices, Aleksei would have preferred to accept nothing, venturing out into the world like an itinerant wandering monk. I was glad I’d been able to convince him to accept what he had. Still, he was so naïve and inexperienced. I hoped it would be enough, and that the world would treat him kindly.
I wondered if I would ever know, and knew it was possible that I wouldn’t.
But mayhap I would; mayhap one day I would hear of a half-D’Angeline priest in distant Vralia who preached a doctrine of compassion and acceptance that attempted to reconcile different faiths, who had written a tract regarding his encounter with his own unlikely heretic saint.
The thought cheered me during our journey.
And I was profoundly grateful to be travelling with the Tatars, profoundly grateful for their protection. The first leg of our journey was a tense one. Gossip had spread before us, and within days, we were passing through villages where Pyotr Rostov and the Duke’s men had sought me.
In every village and settlement, people came out to stare and point, trying to pick me out among the Tatar throng.
A few times, they threw stones-small boys too foolish to be afraid, for the most part. When it happened, Chagan and the other young men dashed after them on horseback, instilling in them the fear the boys lacked.
At night when we camped, Vachir posted guards. No one came to molest us, too wary of the Tatars’ reputation for ferocity, unwilling to provoke a conflict that might escalate. Still, I was glad when we passed the last settlement and entered the wilderness of the mountain range along the southern border.