Ch 12 Quarrel

Why did the Germans picked this very moment to bomb? Right after the cavalry soldiers just returned from their missions? At that very moment, the soldiers had just sat themselves down, getting busy joking around with the kitchen people who were serving them food. Ivan was away from all of them—after he tied Kostya, he habitually walked to the boundary of their campground, looking over to the infantry side.

Bombs exploded as if right inside of his head. When Ivan climbed up from the ground, the whole world around him was turned upside down.

Soldiers and logistic personels were all gone—what remained in where they were appeared to be a gigantic dark hole covered with burned soil. Around the big hole was scattered with shapeless pots and weapons damaged from the explosion, as well as pieces of body parts—of both men and horses. A few people who just got out of the bunker were searching among the bloody shapeless bodies of anyone who still remained a hint of breath.

As if the explosion just destroyed his hearing, Ivan couldn't hear anything except that dearest neighing sound—that was his dear Kostya who had carrried him out of life and death. Everytime he lost friends before, Ivan would embrace his Kostya's long neck, whispered quietly to his ears, "Kostya, we will revenge for them." Then, Kostya's ears would softly rubbed his nose—he was a good and sensible child…

And now, Kostya was there struggling and howling in pain. But when Ivan knelt down beside him and hugged his neck like before, he quiet down and lied there without moving, only twitched occasionally from the pain. He was like always, clever and sensible, even when his two front legs disappeared without a trace from the explosion.

He brushed Kostya's nose, putting a small piece of bread into the trembling mouth. Ivan always worried like a child that his horse didn't have enough food to eat, so he often saved some for the horse from daily ration. Kostya licked his fingers with gentility, that pair of intelligent eyes bearing tremendous amount of pain were quietly looking at him, as if looking into his heart. Among people he knew, only one person had those dark round eyes like Kostya…

That person was running towards him from the infantry.

"Vanya! Vanya…"

"It'll stop hurting, good boy!" Ivan said to his dearest white horse with unprecedented tenderness, "Don't be afraid, Kostya! Don't be afraid!"

He held up the rifle, stood up and, without even blinking an eye, fired at Kostya.

The shot was as if fired right into Wang Yao's heart that for a moment, his two feet were nailed to the ground, not faraway from Ivan and Kostya. Nobody noticed him. Natasha who followed him behind found out that her brother was unharmed, then turned to the wounded with other infantry soldiers who rushed here.

It was hell. Ivan and Kostya were motionless like a statue. The horse's dark round eyes quivered half-open and half-closed, looking at Wang Yao, almost about to let out a drop of tear…Many years ago, his dear white horse Feiyun was looking at him with those exact same eyes, struggling in pain before died. But Wang Yao couldn't save him. Hot blood poured down Feiyun's snow-white body, like the dream he had about his father, about the hot blood flowing on top of the Changbai Mountain*.

"Why did you kill him?" Wang Yao opened his mouth with a voice that didn't sound like himself's.

"Why?" Ivan directed a strange smile at him, "What else is there to do? Look, two legs gone."

"But he could live!" Wang Yao cried out, incapable of suppressing his emotion, and kneelt down besides Kostya's body. "It's not like we don't have medications…Look at his eyes, he clearly wanted to live…"

He couldn't finish the sentence. Feiyun's dark round eyes thirsting for life was looking at him over the layers and depth of time, engulfed him like dark night.

The smile disappeared from Ivan's face and was replaced with a sneering expression. "There are a lot more people who want to live….Can't get enough hands on them." Ivan conveniently pointed to the flattened cavalry base behind him. "In your opinion, we should patch up Kostya, decorate him with a medal and send him off to the veteran's sanatorium to comfortably live till old age?"

Wang Yao felt all the blood rushed to his head. A small loathsome voice in his head was telling him that Ivan meant horse less than people. He stared at Ivan like a blindman while Ivan pulled his arm, trying to help him up.

"Why are you so sentimental?" Ivan's voice sounded unreal, as if it was floating from thousands of miles away. "Come. Let's find the cook. Don't you have a bunch of kids on your side? They get to eat meat today…"

As if he was scalded by a red hot tong, Wang Yao sprang up and swinged his arm forcefully, almost pushed the unexpected Ivan to the ground.

He wanted to scream at Ivan, but what rushed out of the throat was nothing but his hoarse, low-pitch voice:

"…Go find him yourself! Yes, it's your horse. Do whatever you want with it…But did you look at his eyes? He wanted to live…"

"Kostya is my horse. What he was trying to say, I know better than you." Ivan wasn't afraid to look into his stare. "He's not human. He's a warhorse… A man could do something else without legs, but what could a horse do after losing two legs? Kostya was so proud. He wouldn't want to just sit there waiting to die."

"There isn't a single creature who doesn't yearn for life!" Wang Yao couldn't hear his own yelling. Feiyun's blood, father's blood as well as everything he had seen in his suffering motherland and the arduous battlefield of Moscow, all enfolded and coerced him like shock waves from exploded bombs, buzzing at his ears. "We've already lost so many lives…are we to suffer even more… Braginsky! No wonder they call you Ivan the Devil…"

Ivan grabbed his collar, under those two raised sword-like brows, the violet eyes shone a peculiarly bright color—the kind of color when one stared right into the sun and realized in a flash of burning pain.

"Wang, I'm gonna tell you this. If one day when my comrad begged me to finish his life for the pain, I wouldn't think twice either." A child-like cruelty appeared on Ivan's face. "And the way you're talking like you've never seen a dead man before makes me wonder if you really had a sort of 'special' past…"

Wang Yao fiercely grabbed Ivan's hands on his collar and threw him over to the side. The throw wasn't intended to be used on Ivan, but he simply couldn't bear the devil's hands placing on him.

He turned around and returned to his own campground, afraid that any delay would cause him to lose control of the tight fists.

The cook made a huge pot of horse meat anyway, all given to the wounded soldiers of the cavalry unit. The children didn't catch the feast. As soon as Wang Yao got back, the bus sent from Moscow came and picked up everyone from the nursery. "General Elizaveta" still resented not finishing the romance-telling as she walked on the bus, promising Wang Yao that if they met again, she would do another telling for him…

"Maybe you'll never see me alive again." thought Wang Yao as he forced himself into a smile, waving goodbye to "the General".

Ever since coming to the front, this was the first time he realized that maybe one day, he would die.

*Changbai Mountain: A mountain range in Northeastern China. It's covered with snow most time of the year.

-TBC