Ploft! – That was the deaf noise I made, when I fell on my back in the middle of a lot of golden grass. Probably dry, but soft. It was tall grass, so that I sat, and even so I couldn't find out where I was. I had to stand up, and I looked around. Hopeless: more and more golden grass everywhere. In spite of all, it was a beautiful sight. But the sun was not so high in the sky anymore, and according to my great experience from the movies, even if the hero sees something in the horizon, he will only get there in the end of the day. Just imagine if I can't see anything!... What? Yes, 'course I was… am… the heroin.
I gave a sigh and started to walk. You can skip, well, about four hours, in which I only walked. In the end it wasn't so bad; the place was fresh and good-smelling. But at nightfall, a cold wind started to blow from anywhere, and I wrapped myself better in the jacket, crazy to find even a cave for a shelter. Preferentially, without bats; what if one of them becomes Edward Cullen and then I'll be forced to runaway.
In the Very Moment when I was starting to despair, some guys in horses passed by. Handsome ones, except for the long moustaches, 'course. Strong men, in very heavy coats, and with astrakhan caps and sabers pending from their belts. They passed rushing in a gallop beside me – that was good, because I had an excuse to smooth my hair. Then I called out.
– Hey, Cossack!
The last man in the row looked to me, staring in a grim manner. A beautiful pair of green eyes, he had. I don't know if he sympathized with me, but anyhow he stopped, and let out sort of a battle cry that made the others stop, too. Within seconds, their ataman came from the front , and addressed me some words.
– Yes? – he spoke, distrustful. He was an old, fat man, but still in shape.
– Hi, sir… Well… Could you tell me which way I'll find a village or a town? And, rather, where I am…
– But what does a girl do here alone at this hour? – the man said, in a bass voice, instead of answering me. – Where did you come from?
– I also don't know – I replied, sincerely.
– Better so! – a dangerous dude came, drawing closer to me with a lupine smile that totally displeased me. I had shivers. For all I knew about the Cossacks, they were not exactly safe and balanced people. Or good guys. For my relief, the chieftain stretched his arm, blocking his mate's action.
– This girl asked for our help, you twerp, and we are going to help. Save your instincts for the battles. Roman! – he called.
From the front row, a youngster came in a trot. Twenty and a few years, maybe. His face was pale, with gray eyes. There was a long black tress, but no moustache. He didn't look exactly nice, but also didn't make me afraid. For his different props, I wondered he was probably the son of the chief. The ataman ordered the boy to carry me. Without a word of objection, he helped me to climb in the horse's back. And we galloped.
After I got used to the dizzying pace of the race, and succeeded in controlling the sick feeling of seeing the golden plants rushing beside me, I decided to try and talk with the boy.
– Where am I? –I started. Yeah, I'm not really subtle. And I really wanted to know it, although I had already formed my hypothesis…
– Russia – the young man answered, monosyllabic.
"Yes!", I cried inside myself, happy.
– And where are you going to?
– Don – he retorted. Yes, I had heard about the Cossacks of Don. They were sort of pirates of the river (Don), quite feared. That river seemed to be the best place for the… "Cossackry". I won't say piracy, because it was not exactly the same thing. The Cossacks were more like a kinky mix of soldiers-bandits-gipsies-singers-pirates.
It could be interesting to spend a little time with them, if it wasn't dangerous; and furthermore, I had my own plans. Since I was in Russia's house – in that moment, precisely, I was in his immense garden – I wanted to see Russia himself. He and his cruel sweetness.
– Do you know where Russia lives? – I asked.
– What are you talking about, girl? – the junior ataman said, almost harshly. After that he laughed, in an ironical but nicer way. – I think you're raving. Take a nap.
I was not sleepy, but I took that for an excuse to lean against him. I felt that he got a little startled; sat uptight, but said nothing. He was cute and fluffy, especially with that coat, and I ended up sleeping, after all.
I woke up with the deep voices of the Cossacks, intonating a song.
At the early dawning, 'cross the rolling hillside
Legionnaires of Russia rode their shining, stoic steed
Horses fell to bullets, heroes pierced and rended
Stormy river runs red as a thousand soldiers bleed.
Lovely, brothers, lovely, lovely 'tis to live.
With our brave lieutenant, who has time or will to grieve?
It was a beautiful song, and sung by those men, well, it would make you feel power, wildness and freedom. Like a bird of prey. And that's what the Cossacks were; flying in their horses, true eagles of the steppe. I continued listening to them, and peaked over the shoulder of my rider, to see how we were going. It was black night. In the distance, we could see bonfires. The weather was even fresher. Within fifteen minutes, we would reach their encampment. The men were still singing, finishing the song.
And my raven tresses, my alabaster face
All will shrivel, crumble, feed the grass that takes their place.
And the eyes that shot sharp, bold heart ripped apart
Falcons, crows, hyenas will devour all that's there.
Lovely, brothers, lovely, lovely 'tis to live.
With our brave lieutenant who has time or will to grieve?
And, soon after, we got to the camping. The Cossacks were received by their fellows, and by some women, the wives of some of them, I guess. There was even a girl that didn't seem pleased when she saw me on the rump of the chief' son's horse.
As my bottom was stiff, I decided to walk to stretch my legs. There was a small elevation, to the left of the camping. I climbed it to look around, the landscape was so beautiful. And, fairly far away, I saw a mansion. Its aspect wasn't exactly familiar but, instinctively, I knew what it was: Russia's house.
The sleep vanished in a moment. Immediately, I started marching up to there. I cried "Spasibo!" to the Cossacks – nonetheless, they were hospitable, and would possibly invite me to spend the night there. But I didn't want it. "I'll meet Russia,I'll meet Russia…", I kept thinking, with eyes as bright as a (fake) vampire. And I marched on.