Chapter 3

"I saw sincerity in his eyes, my prince, when he said she was safe," said Jan. "I suspect he took her to some female relative, or the wife of one of his men, to keep her away from the princes. They ... they are more uncouth than the Cossack, who is ... moderately courtly."

Jeremi sat forward.

"Really? Jurij Bohun, has courtly manners?"

"Not ... entirely, sire, but he is a knight," admitted Jan. "I ... I felt I might like him."

"Well! That is something to consider," said Jeremi. "I am sorry I sent you off on a fool's errand, but you have brought me vital intelligence. Do you think he should be elevated for protecting the princess?"

"I would not object to him as my lord-brother," said Jan.

"His birth is not humble," said Jeremi, abruptly. "I ... have watched him from afar, but the opinion of a young man I trust as I trust you is more to me than reports. Well, is he off on another mission?"

"Indeed; he said he would wait if I wanted to come along and join him when I had reported to you, but I told him not to wait, as I have duties."

Jeremi smiled indulgently.

"Another time, you may consider going," he said.

"Thank you, sire, I would like to fight beside him," said Jan. "His style is wild, but strangely effective. I got to see him training a new Cossack lad, who looked scarcely old enough to be a warrior, and pressing the child hard, but explaining all that he did. He punished mistakes caused by tiredness, and pointed out that it is then the enemy has the best chance of a kill. That poor boy is black and blue, but perhaps will survive his first battle because of it. I have been reflecting on what looked like cruelty and deciding that it was a kindly cruelty, rough and ready kindness."

"A complex fellow," said Jeremi. "And already famous at his age. I was also just seventeen when I went to war the first time."

"And you are a famous commander, my prince," said Jan, enthusiastically. He was an admirer of the prince, seeing him only in terms of military expertise. The young szlachcic had no idea that the prince's peasantry were less enamoured of his hero.

Jeremi was no less immune to the effect of sincere admiration than anyone, and he smiled on the young man, almost a mirror of the enigmatic Cossack, Bohun.

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Jurko Bohun managed to send the Kurcewiczowie home, and wanted to set off as soon as possible. He came upon Helena praying, and waited silently.

He kissed her hands.

"It's all right to be afraid before your first battle, you know," he said. "And your second. After that, you either get used to it, or take to farming."

"Were you scared?"

"Terrified," said Jurko. "And it all went by in such a whirl, though some things seemed to slow down. Stay close to me, and I'll see you safe."

"You may kiss my forehead," said Helena.

He leaned forward to do so.

"A commander's kiss more than a lover's," he said. "But I am not going to think of my feelings for you or I'd be terrified for you; and that does you no favours. You said you need to see my life for yourself, and I'll not deny you that."

"I think you must be very remarkable, to both want to cherish me, and yet not to treat me as finest crystal, to be wrapped in lambswool," said Helena.

"If you knew how much I wanted to wrap you in lambswool, and lock you in a safe castle a long way from strife, you would laugh at me," said Jurko.

"No; it makes me appreciate the more the lengths you are going to, in order to help me," said Helena. "And too, to give me time to see if I love you back. I ... I don't know yet."

"You are young." He took her hand and kissed each finger in turn. Helena shivered; that made her feel nice, and so cherished.

Then they must pack up, and load the boats which had come for them. Helena reflected that the ships of the Vikings, of whom she knew a little, might not have looked much different. The boats were long and narrow, with a high prow and stern, a single, square sail, and rowing positions all along. Provisions and later, loot went between the rowing positions, and those who did not know how to row must keep out of the way at the prow.

Helena kept out of the way, and found herself next to a Cossack boy, who must have been a year or so younger than Helena.

"Have you ever been on a ship?" he asked.

"No," said Helena.

"You don't know a lot," he said, pugnaciously. "I've been watching you train."

"I was brought up by an aunt, and she wasn't much of an aunt," said Helena.

"Oh! Well I suppose that would explain it," said the boy. "I'm Ihor."

"I'm Parysz," said Helena.

"Fancy sort of name."

"Look, I haven't been in battle before either, you don't have to hide that you're scared by picking on me," said Helena.

"Who says I'm scared?"

"Everything you say and all the way you look," said Helena. "I'm scared too; I don't want to let the ataman down. He's taking a big risk in letting me come, just because he's sorry for me. But let's not fight amongst ourselves."

Ihor digested this; and nodded, curtly.

"You won't tell my father, will you?" he asked.

"No; but I expect he knows. It's all right to be frightened before your first battle. The ataman said so to me."

"He did?"

"Yes, and that the second battle is also scary. By the third you are either used to it, or you become a farmer."

"I guess he got used to it pretty well. Are you related to him?"

"No, but he owes a favour to a relative of mine," said Helena, who thought that this was as close as she intended to go to the complex situation. And in a way, Prince Jeremi was her guardian, and so a relative by default; and Jurko owed him duty.

It was too exciting for the motion of the ship or boat to make her feel sick; and the big sail carried them smoothly enough with the current also in their favour down the mighty river.

"I've never seen so much water all at once," she whispered to Jurko, when he came forward to see how she was.

"It's a scary sight the first time," he agreed. "You do swim, though?"

"Yes, I can swim," said Helena. "I don't remember not being able to swim; I think Papa taught me."

"We won't ever be far from the shore," said Jurko. "I ... I want you to have shown you can fight before I tell anyone you are a girl, but we might need to, in order to get the slavegirls to co-operate."

"They'd be fools not to co-operate if they know what's good for them."

"Women are fools. Well, most of them are. You, my cuckoo, my darling, are exceptional. Most women scream a lot and get silly."

"I ... I might want to scream, but I will try not to. And I don't think I'm silly."

"You are not silly. You are courageous and I adore you, and I have never been happier."

She leaned against him, and he wrapped an arm about her shoulders. It might have been the gesture of one who was a big brother; both of them knew it was more than that, but it was perhaps as well that being in public made anything more impossible.

Helena wanted to snuggle. She looked up at him, smiling, but there were tears in her eyes.

"Little cuckoo? Surely not a bad presentiment from a bird of good omen?" he was concerned.

"Oh, Jurko, I too have never been happier; I am not sure why I am crying. But ... I feel as if I belong, that your arm around me is my home, my refuge, as Rozłogi has never been save when Papa was there. Even with Uncle Konstantyn. I ... I was aware of my aunt's resentment. You ... you love me unreservedly, and ... and I want to love you back. I ... I suppose one reason I am crying is that I fear that this moment will end, and ... and that bad things will happen, because of the way bad things always happen."

"Hush, my love, my birdling, my cuckoo, my sweet. Whatever else happens, we have each other, even if something parts us; we have seen each other's souls, and nobody can take that away. You hold my heart in your little hand, and I trust you to cherish it."

"I would like to give you my heart to cherish in return; but I ... I want to wait for doing anything grown-up," said Helena.

"As long as you need, my heart, my honey."

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The mighty river Dniepr rolled on, so wide in places that one could hardly see from shore to shore. At one point, Cossacks rode along the banks, watching them warily.

"They'll be from the Sich," said Jurko, Helena's hand in his, rubbing a comforting thumb over the back of her hand. "My lads, some of them, long for the Sich and to side with the Zaporizhian Cossacks if they rise again."

"Are they likely to do so? And please, what is the Sich?" asked Helena.

"Cossacks and Poles are like oil and water; they don't mix," said Jurko. "Jeremi's grandfather was a registered Cossack, you know; and Jeremi changed his faith from Orthodox to Catholic, which is by way of rubbing himself with soft soap to get rid of the oil of the Cossack rather than embracing it as part of what he is. I see myself using the oil of the Cossack as a body rub, like a Roman gladiator, to lend me heroism. Who knows? One day someone may come up with a deal which lets us mix oil and water, the way milk is water with fats and oils in, the way the Rzeczpospolita blended Pole and Lithuanian. At the moment, however, it's more as if the Cossack is shaken until Poland gets butter, and the poor Cossack is left with buttermilk."

"How beautifully you explain it!" said Helena. "What would you choose? If they did rise?"

"I'm a registered Cossack; I gave my oath for the king," said Jurko. "And also, I would stay to be with you, my love. Even if you do not want me as a lover, when you are old enough, if I can be near you ... I will learn to live with it. Though I suspect it would be like gobbling strawberries in honey with a hornet up my nose to be near you if you chose another man," he added. "But the Sich! It is ... not a capital city as such, but the central hub of being a Cossack. It is an armed camp, nobody staying long, but everyone visiting to train, to hone skills, to pass them on to others, to be brothers together. My camp is like a miniature Sich."

"You explain things so clearly, Jurko," said Helena. "Nobody has ever explained anything to me before, and I am most fearfully ignorant. My cousins laugh at me for asking questions, but I suspect it is partly because they cannot answer because they do not know how. I have never dared ask any questions of my aunt. When she has sent me to do this or that menial chore, I have asked the servants, or a peasant in the village, who will show me what to do. But they do not have knowledge of the greater world as you do. Why, I do not even know the name of the king!"

"Oh, that one is easy, it is Władysław IV Waza," said Jurko. "Son of Zygmunt III. In theory he's also king of Sweden and was Tsar of Russia briefly when we took Moskwa, but theory and practice are different, and his cousin, Krzystyna is Queen of Sweden and Russia is a law unto itself. Zygmunt was the son of the Swedes' previous king, Jan, I think, and our Polish Katarzyna Jagiellonka. So he is a proper Piast, a Pole, and so are his sons. He's married to an Austrian, but I suppose you don't want inbreeding. It's bad for horses and cattle so I suppose it would be bad for humans too."

"I saw a lamb with two heads once; it was horrible," said Helena. "They said the sheep had been tupped by a ram of her own sire's get. A king with two heads would be bad."

Jurko laughed.

"I can see it," he said. "Can't you imagine them being more inclined to argue than to agree like brothers? And suppose one was decisive and one was dilatory, one saying 'right, I'm ready for battle' and the other wailing pathetically, 'I'm not ready!'"

Helena giggled.

"Oh, you have made a ridicule of a monstrosity, and I am glad," she said.

At length they came out of the mouth of the mighty river, and the Black Sea stood before them. Helena clung to Jurko.

"It is like looking into eternity; into the face of God," she whispered.

"Oh, yes, it is a terrifying sight," agreed Jurko. "Yet if you look at maps, the Black Sea is tiny compared to other seas."

"I ... I feel very small," said Helena.

"We are all small in the sight of God, and His creation," said Jurko. "And sometimes it is as well to remind ourselves of this. We can but do our best for Him. And this day, God willing, we will rescue slaves from their fate, and we will do what God must surely want us to do, that you, the gentle angel He has sent to me, have been instrumental in reminding me. Loot is good, but we are God's children first, saving others of our brethren."

"Amen!" said Helena. "Why – Jurko! Is that another boat on the horizon?"

He lifted his hand to shield his eyes from glare to peer.

"Yes, my cuckoo, and a sign from God that we do His will; it is a galley of the Tatars, taking slaves to Constantinople from Caffa or one of the other slaving posts. They do not go out of sight of land, so must cross the outflow of the Dniepr." He turned to call out, "Ready boys! Our first catch of the day!"