The Circassian. "Wrong Side" Read online

1.5

  Abraham travelled nearly all night to reach the second crossing. The first one was protected by Russian troops and he had avoided it and continued directly to the second one. Approaching silently, he found that the second bridge was also secured by troops. Fearful of being captured he skirted around it and continued walking for several more miles looking for another crossing. He travelled slowly taking it in turns to carry each of the boys. Abraham knew enough of the Circassian language to keep them calm, constantly whispering to them and encouraging them to walk. At times carrying both of them when the terrain was too difficult for their small legs. The twins walked quietly without fear of Abraham, sensing that he was trying to help them. After several hours of walking in the dark Abraham heard voices. He lay down on the ground making his silhouette as small as possible, holding the boys close to him and whispering for them to stay silent. The voices got louder. Abraham breathed a sigh of relief and sat up; the voices were Circassian. Calming down he stood up and saw that there were people on the other side of the river. The relaxed manner of the people reassured him. Now was the time to get rid his of the uniform once and for all. He hastily changed into the civilian clothing and hid his uniform under some rocks then sat down on the wet grass, pulling some bread from the bag to eat. Both boys had fallen asleep instantly and he decided to wait until the people had left before crossing. Abraham sat looking at the river, wondering if it was the best place to cross it, or if he should try somewhere else. He had no idea if the river was wider further downstream or if there were any more bridges. It looked calm and he estimated only twenty yards to reach the other side, he could not swim very far and this section of river was the narrowest part he had seen in the last hour. He watched the reflection of the full moon shining on the water, hardly a ripple disturbing it. He threw a stick into the middle of the river and watched it float serenely downstream. It looked safe enough. Dogs barked in the distance behind him. That made his mind up, he was in civilian clothes and he had to cross now. He picked up both boys, one under each arm; they wrapped their small legs around his chest and hung onto his shirt collar.

  Stepping slowly from the bank into the water, he was surprised how deep it became after only five paces. The riverbed was strewn with rocks, carried down from the mountains in the spring when the snow melted. As he reached the middle of the river it became deeper and as he stepped cautiously through the water he felt his feet being pushed away each time he lifted a leg. Unsure of how much stronger it would become, he continued towards the opposite bank. The water was almost up to his chest. Only the twin’s arms and heads were above the water, both gripping him tighter as their bodies got lower in the cold water. Abraham progressed slowly trying to feel for obstacles with his feet before he moved, he kicked a large rock and stood slowly on it testing it’s stability before trusting his weight on it. It felt sturdy so he took the next step confidently. The rock tipped and the three of them disappeared under the water for several seconds. He found his footing again and stumbled on, no longer in a straight line, the strong undercurrent forcing him further downstream. Then he tripped on another rock and they went under for the second time. Keeping tight hold of the twins he now had to swim, trying to suppress the terror that was slowly rising, he realised he was being carried downstream, away from the far bank.

  Unable to use his arms he kicked out vainly. The river had become even faster now and he was powerless to fight against it. Although they had only been in the water for several minutes he felt his strength ebbing away. Unable to feel the bottom with his foot they were carried downstream, the current becoming stronger all the time.

  Large rocks were everywhere; he kicked out harder to avoid one situated directly in front of them. They crashed into it, Abraham taking the full impact to save the boys, but the wind had been knocked out of him. He tried to breathe in but instead took a mouthful of cold water. The eddy currents around the rock dragged them under again and again. Choking, he wanted to use his arms to strike out and surface where he could breath, he fought the impulse, refusing to release the boys. He saw the terrified look in Mikael’s eyes and it gave him another boost of power. His foot made contact with the rock and using the last of his strength he kicked out. All three of them came above the surface gasping for air. They were now at the mercy of the river, twisting and turning away from the grass banks. The sides were steep and the river had narrowed, increasing the power and speed of the current, carrying them at breakneck speed they disappeared and resurfaced. A large fallen tree loomed before them. They slammed into it at tremendous speed, the small branches cutting Abraham’s face and arms as he used his body to protect the boy’s faces. Abraham felt a stabbing pain as a broken branch penetrated his left shoulder. His arm went into spasm and his hand opened as it shook uncontrollably. He cried out as he watched one of the twins slip away from him. Abraham used his leg to push himself backwards from the branch. The blood flowed freely from the wound into the cold water. He found a hidden strength he did not know he possessed and lifted the remaining boy up onto the trunk of the tree, he tried to lift himself up but was too exhausted, they stayed like that for several seconds panting for breath, then coaxing him to crawl along the top, Abraham pulled himself along the log towards the bank. Reaching the end of the trunk he lifted the small boy and carried him the few yards to the safety of the bank where he put him down. Standing there shivering with cold and shock he had no time to feel relieved, he stared intently towards the river for the boy’s brother, listening for any voices. He squatted down next to the small boy and rubbed his arms to warm him up.

  ‘Are you Mikael or Jaak?’ he asked.

  ‘Mikael.’ the boy replied. ‘Where is Jaak?’

  Abraham wished he knew the answer. He picked up the boy and without waiting to catch his breath, he stumbled through the dense undergrowth, along the riverbank scanning the water and calling out Jaak’s name. He didn’t care if anyone heard him now. He needed to find the boy and get him to safety too. Dawn was breaking and there was now just enough light to see across the river. He checked the banks on both sides of the river for signs of somebody scrambling up. The mud was smooth and showed no signs of being disturbed. Finally he came to the end of the greenery. He put Mikael down and looked at the rocks on either side of the rushing torrent of water. The river had narrowed again and the water flowed through a gorge at an incredible speed. He looked up at the rocks. They rose to over twenty feet high and were almost vertical. He stood as close to the edge as he dared and leant out to look downstream. There was nowhere to get out of the river for as far as he could see. The sheer rock faces were not climbable. He sat down and looked at Mikael. The boy was ready to burst into tears. Abraham rummaged in the pack and found a soggy mass of bread; he threw it into the river and gave Mikael an apple. After half an hour he was rested enough to continue. He stood and put Mikael on his shoulders, picking his way carefully through the loose rocks and exposed roots he climbed around the back of the rock escarpment and walked to the top, from there he could see the entire river for miles in both directions. He picked out two soldiers standing smoking on the second bridge that he had avoided the night before, he watched as about fifty troops arrived at the bridge, the two guards hastily throwing their cigarettes away and trying to look attentive. He looked downstream and his stomach turned as he watched the debris from the river being dashed into the rocks and sides of the gorge for several miles. He knew a small child could not survive that long in such a mass of raging white water. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he looked at the small boy he had carried for the last hour sitting with his arms around his knees lost in thought.

  ‘Oh dear God forgive me,’ he said to himself. ‘I have lost him, he is dead.’

  1.6

  Jaak lifted his head as far back as he could to stop the water entering his mouth. Miraculously he stayed afloat in the river current thanks to a large piece of the tree they had collided with. When Abraham lost his grip, a large branch broke away and got e
ntangled with Jaak’s clothing and kept his head above the water. Several times the trunk caught an obstacle in the river and tipped upside down, forcing Jaak under the water for a few seconds and then popping him up again gasping for air. He could hear a sound like thunder growing louder as he was carried downstream. As the noise rose, the water around him turned white, small waves stinging his cheeks as they slapped him in the face. He struggled vainly to release himself when suddenly he felt the tree trunk stop and then move against the current. He closed his mouth ready to go under again when he felt the material tearing away from the broken branch that had penetrated his shirt. He grabbed instinctively at the tree as he felt it drifting away from him but something was holding him back and he watched helplessly as it broke free and drifted away. Jaak closed his mouth as he felt a force dragging him backwards. He was petrified; his arms thrashed wildly to keep his head above the water, his head disappeared under again. Then he surfaced, his chest and arms came out of the water as he felt a hand reaching around his small waist and another grasp his arm tightly. Strong hands lifted him up onto a rock and then released him as a second pair of arms carried him through bushes and into a clearing. He was put down gently. Still panting for breath he looked around for Mikael.

  Two women and a man stood in a semi-circle around him. The younger of the two leant down and wrapped a shawl around him. The man that had carried him in his strong arms had a long beard and kind brown eyes. He moved Jaak’s collar with one finger and saw the gold ornament around his neck, confirming he was one of their own. The younger of the two women looked anxiously at the small boy.

  ‘Hello little man, I’m Isabelle. What’s your name?’

  Jaak looked up at her face, her wide forehead tapered down to a chin even smaller than her mouth, her ears protruded out very slightly with her thin long brown hair tucked behind them. Her nose was wide and flat with small nostrils, thick eyebrows arching away above her brown eyes like two leaves of a palm tree. She smiled with her lips closed and Jaak was immediately reminded of a cat.

  ‘My name is Jaak,’ he whispered still transfixed with her face. ‘Where is Mikael?’

  ‘Who is Mikael?’ asked an older woman standing behind Isabelle. Jaak stared silently at the woman without answering.

  ‘This is my aunt.’ explained Isabelle.

  ‘Mikael is my brother.’

  ‘Was he in the river too?’ Isabelle’s uncle who was still holding Jaak asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How did you fall in, what are you doing in the forest so late at night?’

  ‘I didn’t fall in, Abraham was carrying us, we wanted to get across the river but it was too strong and then he got hurt by a tree and he let go of me.’

  ‘Who is Abraham?’ A younger man asked also an uncle of Isabelle.

  ‘He came with the soldiers to our home. He is taking us somewhere safe.’

  ‘Where are your parents?’

  ‘Some soldiers hurt them before Abraham and another man made them go away.’ The four adults looked at each other without speaking. They had witnessed the Russian brutality when they escaped from their own village three weeks earlier and fled into the woods. Travelling slowly along small tracks to avoid soldiers, to their destination, the coast of the black sea to cross to the safety of Turkey. The man lifted his gaze from Jaak’s face and scanned the river for signs of Mikael. He flinched instinctively as a shot rang out some way off. Turning to the second man and the two women who accompanied him he spoke quickly.

  ‘Russians, they must be close, let’s go quickly.’

  ‘What of the brother, we must look for him.’ said Isabelle.

  ‘Isabelle what can we do? If the Russians find us we are all dead, we will take him with us, better to save one little Circassian than none, now come on.’

  Isabelle, unhappy to leave without looking further for the other brother knew the man spoke the truth. If found they would be shot for the food and clothes they wore and left in the forest to rot. Again they heard more shots, shouts and dogs barking. They walked anxiously down a forest track, away from the sounds. As the trees became denser they began to relax a little and slowed their pace, walking for a further hour they finally found a small clearing where they stopped exhausted. The younger man quickly established a small fire in the ground, removed a blackened pot from their handcart and hung it over the flames between three metal rods. The man carrying Jaak handed him to the young woman and helped with the fire. They knew the Russians would not dare follow them so far into the forest for fear of ambush, keeping to the more open areas where they felt safer. Circassian fighters were operating everywhere in small groups. Isabelle took Jaak and sat down.

  ‘Hello little man, let me take these wet clothes off and dry them or you will get sick.’ Jaak allowed himself to be undressed by the beautiful girl who spoke softly to him in his own language as she wrung out his wet clothes. She then picked him up and sat him on her lap cuddling him and rubbing his back to both warm and comfort him. Jaak shivering naked under the shawl, looked up at Isabelle’s beautiful face. In only the light from the fire she reminded him of his mother, as his small body warmed, exhaustion overcame him and he fell asleep. Early the next morning, the two men walked several hundred yards to the river where a rocky outcrop gave them a view over several miles of the river without being seen themselves.

  ‘Do you think they managed to survive?’ Asked Isabelle’s uncle to his older brother.

  ‘Between the river and the Russians with their dogs I don’t think they had much chance, we can only hope they survived and escaped, but at least the brother has an adult to take care of him, we will take the boy with us to the coast and ask about his brother there.’ he answered.

  ‘Such a pity for the boy to lose first his parents and then his brother.’

  ‘Worse has happened since the Russians came here, we have to care for the living and pray for the dead.’

  They turned and walked back to the clearing where the two women were sitting now awake. Isabelle looked at them and without speaking they shook their heads. Jaak sat up and opened his eyes; he was sitting in a small cart being pushed by a very large man who smiled at him. He had dreamt of his mother holding him and singing softly as she had always done when he was upset.

  ‘Belle,’ the man called out. ‘He is awake.’

  Isabelle crossed over to the cart and walked beside it.

  ‘Hello little man how are you?’

  ‘Where is Mikael?’ Jaak asked her.

  ‘Mikael is with Abraham.’ she said, without knowing if she was telling the truth. She gave Jaak a piece of bread and he lay back in the cart chewing slowly and crying softly. Isabelle listened to him sobbing with a heavy heart. It was his first day as an orphan and he was completely numb.

  Only using the main track when the terrain in the forest was impossible to push their small cart through, they found a small clearing surrounded by thick trees and stopped to eat. Jaak climbed out of the cart and gazed back towards the river winding through the valley below. So far above, it was hard to believe the strength it had, like a mute giant. His eyes scanned from left to right as he looked for Mikael.

  They continued for several days making small camps where they ate and slept, Isabelle consoled him with happy stories of her family. She told of her childhood in the village she and her family had left to escape the Russians for the safety of Turkey, where they had been promised safe passage and a new life. She spoke often of a small brother, two older brothers and her father who had left to fight the Russians and never returned. Her two uncles and aunt were now all that was left of her family. But she did not speak of sad things, she spoke of her dog and sang songs she knew and Jaak grew fond of her. She was a safe light in a dark world and he clung to her each night until he fell asleep and each time he awoke crying from the nightmares of the night the soldiers stormed in that were so vivid to him. After ten days they reached the main exodus of Circassian refugees trying to reach the Black se
a where ships would take them across to Turkey. They met and joined other smaller groups together fearful of the Russian soldiers, stationed in two’s and three’s at five hundred yard distances. The group was terrified of the first soldiers they were exposed to in contact with, but word soon spread that the Russians would not harm them because there were foreign observers present. Tents with red crosses or crescents gave aid and treatment to the sick and the refugees became more relaxed as they walked. But the mood changed when they entered the main camp. They stopped at the brow of a hill. Isabelle looked down at the people below.

  ‘My God I have never seen so many people.’ She said in horror as she scanned the thousands of refugees.

  ‘I don’t want to go down there.’ She said to her uncle.

  Soldiers started shouting and hitting people with their rifles.

  ‘Keep moving, don’t stop.’ Called a voice from behind them. It was impossible for them to go back.

  Isabelle held Jaak tightly to her as she was jostled along with the huge crowd. People bumped into her separating her from her family. They shouted to each other above the noise of frightened people. All of them realising they made a huge mistake and none of them being able to stop. The flow of humans forcing them towards the unbelievable stench that emanated from the camp below. Isabelle held her hand over her mouth and nose as she stumbled along the road. Jaak breathed in the odour and was sick down her shoulder; she felt a fist in her back as the man behind her pushed her forward to avoid the vomit.

  ‘Stop hitting me.’ She screamed back at him.’

  ‘He is throwing up all over me. Keep moving.’ The man shouted back angrily. The road finally led to an open space and Isabelle felt the pressure of people around her slowly ebb away. She found a clean area of grass and sat down, exhausted. A few minutes later she saw her Uncle.

  ‘Here,’ she called. ‘We are here. She waved her arm, too tired to stand up. Her Aunt arrived and hugged her as she sat down crying with relief; the fear in her eyes said everything that Isabelle was feeling.

  ‘Let me take the boy for a while so you can clean up.’ She said to Isabelle, but Jaak refused to let go of her, gripping her neck tightly as he buried his head into her neck.

  ‘It’s alright wait for him to fall sleep. Then I will wash.’ she said.

  ‘I want to go home.’ Jaak sobbed into her hair, his breath coming in short bursts as he cried. Isabelle patted his back to sooth him.

  ‘I want to go home too Jaak.’ She said under her breath.

  1.7

  Refugees arrived all day and night without stopping. The Russians had increased the attacks on the villages causing more to flee for their lives. The camp became larger each day. Fights started to break out and stealing was becoming more common as people ran out of food. Drunken Russians troops roamed the camps looking for young woman at night; most girls shrank away until they became hungry enough to leave with the soldiers. Isabelle watched as they walked into the forest, returning later with food and drink for themselves and their families, old women begging them to share. They heard stories of many who had been robbed on the road by soldiers when the observers left. Gold jewellery, ripped from their necks and rings pulled from their fingers. Isabelle took Jaak with her to the river where she could wash him. It was raised higher than where her family were sitting and she liked it there. The hill blocked the view of the main camp. It was grassy and there were a few trees, she could hear birds singing. She could put the situation they were in out of her mind for a little while and pretend she was somewhere else. The Black Sea lay before her, beckoning her to come to it. But she would have to wash Jaak in this river for now. She took Jaak’s shirt off and washed it by hand as she watched him poke an ant’s nest with a stick, annoying the thousands of small black fearless creatures. Jaak yelped as they ran up the stick and bit his hand, he threw down the stick and ran away from the nest back to Isabelle.

  ‘That taught you a good lesson,’ mocked Isabelle. ‘Just because they are so small doesn’t mean they cannot hurt you.’ Jaak looked passed her shoulder and his smile faded. Isabelle turned to see what he was looking at. Standing quietly in the clearing was a shabbily dressed old woman; she was watching Isabelle and Jaak intently. She must have walked out from behind the trees into the clearing only seconds before. The old woman walked over and stopped in front of them, as she smiled they noticed she had several teeth missing; those remaining were black and rotten. She was dressed in unwashed clothes with a dirty black bonnet perched on her head at a strange angle.

  She leant down to ruffle Jaak’s hair but he pulled away frightened.

  ‘Your young brother is lovely. Come on give your old Auntie Anni a smile.’ she said, looking at Jaak, but her eyes were fixed on the gold chain hanging around his neck. Her gaze then swept up towards Isabelle’s breast, where her gold was hanging. Isabelle instinctively lifted her hand towards her mouth when she smelt the old woman’s stale breath. She stopped not wanting to be rude and placed her hand over her chain, covering it up from the old woman’s stare. Isabelle nervously smiled silently back at her, something about old Anni unnerved her. As soon as Anni left, Isabelle quickly finished washing Jaak. Looking around to check that they were alone, she spoke calmly as she lifted his chain and tapped him on the nose with it.

  ‘Jaak why don’t let me keep this safe for you. I am scared that you may lose it.’

  ‘Alright.’ replied Jaak trusting her.

  Isabelle had heard of Circassian women swallowing gold and even coins to hide from soldiers. Glancing around, she checked that nobody was watching. She put Jaak’s gold in her mouth, leaned forward and scooped a handful of water from the river into her mouth. Throwing back her head she swallowed it, gagging slightly, she then removed her own and did the same. As they walked back to the camp Isabelle made a decision never to stray too far away from her two uncles again.

  1.8

  It was becoming a common habit for refugees to swallow their gold. Travelling on the road with no place to hide it except in their bodies, robbing refugees had become a lucrative living since the Russians had forced so many of them out of their homes. Old Anni had not gone far; she stood behind a tree watching Isabelle and Jaak. As Isabelle swallowed the chains she smiled. Anni was a scavenger of the worst kind, starting in her vile trade by accident when she was a young woman many years earlier.

  She and her two older brothers travelled from village to village looking for work, three horse drawn wooden caravans made up their homes. Lem, the eldest of the three lived in one with his wife and one small child. Manny, the second oldest lived in another with his wife and Ann had lived alone in one since her mother died. The two wives sold pegs and told fortunes, the men found seasonal work, ploughing, harvesting or picking fruit for the many farmers in the area, stealing what they could when there was no work. Anni used her body to get money, stealing what she could from the drunks she bedded.

  On the night her life changed, they were camped in a wood, the sounds of gunshots and cries woke her up. She ran out of her caravan to see what it was, her brothers were already standing in the darkness listening. Lem walked towards the sounds, Manny went back to bed. She followed Lem to the brow of a hill where they stopped and looked down at the scene. Circassian horsemen were attacking a troop of Russians, riding through the white Russian tents; orange flashes from the rifles lit the scene as shots were exchanged. In the glow they watched the silhouettes of skilled horsemen with drawn sabres slashing running men. Anni had never heard screams like she now heard, goose bumps appeared on her arms and she shivered. Gradually the noise and lights dimmed as the rebels rode away. There was an eerie silence in the Russian camp.

  ‘Come on.’ Said Lem. She turned to go back to her caravan.

  ‘No, this way, come on; let’s see what we can find.’

  She followed him down the hill and they crept cautiously closer to the tents, her brother lifted his head slowly to look, and then stood upright.

  ‘Fuck I don
’t believe that,’ he said. ‘Come on quick.’

  She stood up and ran behind him towards the tents where she stopped in amazement. There were at least thirty people rummaging through the bodies. Her brother stopped at the first body and checked the pockets.

  ‘Go further in, these have been stripped already.’ He told her. As she ran into the main tented area her fear turned to excitement, there were people all around her searching bodies for valuables. She knelt down by one and deftly inserted her hand into his jacket pockets, her hands shaking with fear. Her face lit up with pleasure as she pulled a small coin out. She moved to another and found two coins and a small knife, then another body as the amount of coins grew. Some people behind her began leaving but she did not notice. In her greed she saw only how many bodies she hadn’t searched yet. The area was lit from the many tents still alight. A soldier laying on his back halfway out of a tent caught her attention; she knelt down and tried to remove a small bag attached to his hip. It was attached by a leather strap so she took out the knife she had found and started to cut it. The man grabbed her left wrist with one hand, she jumped back in shock, he wasn’t dead. He cursed her in Russian as she struggled to release herself from his grip.

  Falling onto her backside she kicked his body with her left foot and the side of his head with her right one as hard as she could, but he was too strong for her small framed body. He held her arm in a vice like grip. She watched his other hand searching for his cutlass, he couldn’t see it next to his hand but Anni could. She grabbed her knife with her left hand and tried to stab him in the chest. The knife hit his chest bone and she couldn’t push it in further. She tried again and again. His hand found the cutlass and start to lift it. In panic she stabbed him in the right eye. The knife tearing through the soft tissue, only stopping when her hand hit his cheekbone. He started to shake, slashing in the air with the cutlass as his body went into spasm. Her arm was forced up and down with so much force she thought he had pulled it out of the socket. Anni was trapped, she tried to pull the knife out of his eye but it was jammed in too tightly. Suddenly he stopped moving, but still she could not release his grip, even in death he was stronger than her. Two hairy arms appeared over her head and she instinctively ducked her head in fear. She felt the grip loosen and her brother pulled her to her feet.

  ‘Come on quick everybody has gone except us. There are more soldiers coming.’ She tried to pull the knife from his eye to cut the bag. Her brother grabbed her by the hair and pulled her along as he ran.

  ‘I said now.’ He seethed at her. They ran all the way back to the caravans and sat down breathless. She looked at him and started laughing, the adrenalin still racing around her body. Her brother laughed too then stopped as he caught his breath. He stood up, walked towards her and slapped her across the face, knocking her from the stool.

  ‘That’s for nearly getting me caught.’ He panted. She lay on the floor laughing, the coins dropping from her hand onto the ground. It had been the most exciting thing she had ever done in her life and she wanted to do it again and again.

  Her life had been transformed; everything that used to be normal in her life was now mundane and boring. Her brother wanted to lead them to the same farms they visited every year but she wanted to follow the battles and rob the dead. Anni argued with Lem daily on the trip to the fruit farm they had worked on for every year during the summer. This year she was determined to stop him. They pulled the caravans up outside the farm gates. Lem saw the farmer in a distant field and walked over to him with Manny to ask if they could work for him again. Anni had other plans. She walked to the farm door and knocked on it. The farmer’s wife opened it and looked at her; she was a plain fat woman with an angry look. Anni smiled at her.

  ‘We are looking for work, my brother is talking with your husband now,’ she said. ‘Can you let me have a drink of water?’

  ‘There is a well over there,’ answered the wife curtly. ‘And make sure you don’t pick up anything that you didn’t bring with you.’ She didn’t like travellers.

  Anni scooped a handful of water up in her hands from the wooden bucket and drank it. The wife stood in the doorway, watching she didn’t steal anything. Anni walked back towards her and lowered her voice.

  ‘Are there any Russian soldiers stationed nearby?’

  ‘Why do you want to know that?’ asked the wife.

  ‘I’m just a poor working girl looking for soldiers with a few coins in their pockets.’ She added for devilment.

  ‘You fuck with Russians? Get off my farm you little whore.’ The wife shouted. She spat at her and slammed the door. Anni turned and stole two apples from a basket that sat outside the farm, then walked back to the caravan and waited for her brother to return. He came back smiling.

  ‘He told me to come back in the morning. Let’s go to that place where we stayed last year.’ Anni saw the farmer arrive back at his farm; she watched his wife step outside and point to her caravan. She was still waving her arms and shaking her head as Anni slapped the reins against her horse’s flank and smiled. They drove a quarter of a mile away and made a small camp. That night Anni was quiet.

  The next morning she awoke to the sound of her brother shouting. She opened the top half of her door and watched Lem throw his wooden stool into his caravan.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked innocently.

  ‘Come on we are leaving. I turned up for work this morning and he told me to fuck off. He said he didn’t have any work this year.’

  Anni turned and went back inside her caravan smiling. It was several weeks before they heard any rumours of an impending battle, the Circassians were hit and run experts, they did not arrange head on fights. Without work or money, Anni and her family were determined not to be left out of any chance of making some money so stayed close to a Russians camp and waited.

  Then one night the familiar sound of gunshots and screams woke them. Without waiting for her brother Anni darted into the dark, alone, towards the noise. Lem and Manny ran after her. Three hours later they walked back into their camp and sat down. Manny’s wife looked in amazement as Anni dropped the coins she had collected onto the floor in front of her.

  ‘That’s more than we made all summer.’ The wife exclaimed. Her brothers dropped their coins too.

  ‘No, that’s more than we made all year!’ said Manny.

  From that night her brother gave up the farm work and the family continued for several years in their new chosen line of work. They found two more sites and then it became quiet for a few months. The summer had passed and Autumn was nearly over before they had another chance. It was a small skirmish and there were only a hand full of bodies to rob. The following evening her brothers sat eating when she entered the small patch of grass where they had set up their caravans. She dropped a black bag onto the floor and sat down by the large pot hanging over the fire. She picked a piece of rabbit meat out with her fingers and sat down to eat. Lem watched her, then asked.

  ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘I went back again.’ She said

  ‘What for? We picked them clean last night. You could have been caught if they came back for the bodies.’ Anni shrugged.

  ‘What’s in the bag?’ Manny asked between mouthfuls. Without standing she kicked it as she picked the last of the meat from the leg bone, a severed head rolled out and stopped in front of her brother’s foot. Lem let out a cry and fell back from the small stool he was sitting on, throwing his plate of food at the head as he fell to the floor. The dog sprang up and barked at the head, then leant forward and sniffed it. He licked the spilled food from its face and Manny’s wife threw up.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing with that?’ Lem screamed at her pointing to the severed head. Anni sucked the leg bone once more then licking her fingers she threw it to the dog. She fished for another one in the pot and then sat back down and told him the story.

  ‘Well I was busy checking a dead Russian’s pockets when I looked up to see a man
next to me cutting the head off of a body. I asked him what was he doing and he said, “I know a man who will pay good money for the heads.” I asked him, what do they want them for? and he said, “for doctors in Germany, they want them to study.”

  ‘Why?’ asked her brother.

  ‘I don’t know, I never asked him that.’ Her brother looked at the head.

  ‘He doesn’t look Russian.’ he said.

  ‘He is not, it’s a Circassian head.’ Her brother kicked his stool over and screamed at her.

  ‘You cut the head off of a dead Circassian?’ He was disgusted with her. She threw her second bone to the skinny dog as the rest walked away, she shouted after them.

  ‘But they don’t pay for Russian heads.’

  The next morning she was alone. Her family had left during the night without her. Two stray dogs were sniffing at the bag containing the heads she had tied to her wheel. She threw a stick at them as she stepped down from her caravan and then lifted the lid and poked about for food in the pot that still hung over the now cold fire.

  ‘Well at least they left me that.’ She thought.

  From that day she was one of the first on a battlefield, often not even waiting for the men to die before ransacking their pockets or sawing at their necks. When there was no fighting she supplemented her income by whoring until she found herself pregnant. She had no idea who the father was until her daughter was born. Anni looked at the baby’s small face and red hair.

  ‘Oh I remember him.’ She said.