The Crimean sun faded into a deep reddish hue as dusk descended on us. We were five days out of Kherson travelling on to our next rest stop in Dunaivtsi, a village in the borderlands between the Russian Empire and the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. It was good to be in possession of my shashka, my dagger, and my pistol again, but thus far, we had been travelling without incident. I took the lead of our little caravan, while Andrei rode close behind me and Lieutenant Morozova brought up the rear. The past few days had been spent in a state of serenity, as the lieutenant never once bothered to speak to me, despite my many attempts to try and strike up conversations with her. Most of my time was spent mucking about with Andrei. He was not the best teacher, but his efforts were admirable. We conducted language and etiquette lessons as we rode along. His grasp of English was abysmal, but his French was apparently so superb to the point that even Lieutenant Morozova was impressed by his grammar. His teaching method revolved around the philosophy of “learning little, but learning well.” Today, we were practicing objects.

“Tell me, Monsieur Kazansky, what do you see along the roadside?”

After momentarily racking my brain for the French words, I replied, “Je vois arbre.”

“Good effort, monsieur, but add the un.”

“Je vois un arbre.”

“Parfait. And what do you see next to the tree?”

“Autre arbre.”

“Add the un.”

“Autre un arbre?”

“Un autre arbre. We shall have you speaking like a Parisian soon enough, you are a fast learner indeed.”

“Perhaps we should be studying English again, as the czarina commanded?”

Andrei groaned, “As you say, monsieur. Let us test your proficiency from what you have been taught in days past. Ah… describe something for me, anything of your choosing.”

“The Tatars?”

“An... interesting subject.”

“They be… cock arſe ſhitted fuck bloody poxed ſwines.”

Andrei groaned even louder, “First of all, we must never use ‘they be,’ the correct words are ‘they are;’ second of all, if you are to be a proper gentleman, you must never string a sentence of disgusting profanities such as that in polite company.”

“What about in impolite company?” I chuckled.

“I see you have managed to retain everything from the time you inquired about the various methods of swearing in English. I wish you would have the same diligence with more important locutions.”

Before I had the chance to give a witty remark, my eye caught sight of something in the foliage beyond our path. The fading sunlight reflected off of an object obscured by a bush. It could have been anything; a droplet of water or rays of the sun peeking through the leaves, but my instincts told me to be on guard.

I raised my hand to signal a halt and whistled, mimicking the sound of the pern to signal danger.

“What on earth are you doing, you silly man?” said the lieutenant as she rode past me. I had forgotten, I was no longer amongst fellow Cossacks that knew the rules of scouting. I grabbed the lieutenant by the arm, but she pulled herself free and gave me a surprised, offended glare. Before she could say anything, I had to interrupt her.

“Your Nobility,” I whispered. “I must strongly suggest that we scout out the area ahead of us. I suspect an ambush.”

Just as I finished speaking, a group of men emerged from the bushes. They brandished heavy axes, home-made flintlocks, maces, and shashkas. I could hardly believe my own eyes.

“Opa!” said one of the men.

“My brethren!” I replied as I jumped off my horse. The sight of fellow Cossacks so far away from home almost made me weep. A dozen brothers with smiles on their faces greeted me with hearty handshakes and slaps on the back.

“Oy mamka, I thought we were going to be ambushed,” I said with a chuckle. “What host do you belong to, so I may greet you formally?”

“Host?” one of them scoffed. He was the largest of the group, in height as well as build. His massive shoulders were clear above my eye level and his arms were as thick as saplings. He sported a long traditional mustache and the same Cossack forelock that I did. “We belong to no ‘host.’ We are unregistered free brethren, and we bow to no king, sultan, or czarina.” He cast a suspicious glance at my greencoat companions and then looked back at me. “You then, what host do you belong to?”

I let out a sigh, “I am formerly of the Zaporozhian Host, but alas, I am supposed to be of the ‘Black Sea Cossacks’ now.”

“I do not need to be reminded,” he said with a solemn nod. All the Cossacks crossed themselves at the mention of the host’s name.

The Zaporozhian Host had been home for all of us many years ago, until our leaders declared support for the rebel Pugachev. When the czarina crushed his rebellion, she destroyed our old host by association. It was easy to understand why the greencoats were not seen as friends. I had to change the subject before things got out of hand.

“I am Rodion Ivanovich Kazansky,” I said, extending my hand.

“Seryozha Ivanovich Korotky,” he replied as he grabbed my wrist. His name translated to “Little Sergei,” and the irony was not lost on me.

“Hey!” Shouted Lieutenant Morozova. “Can you stop acting like little women and tell your friends we intend to move past?”

Seryozha scowled and drew his mace, pointing it at her.

“Who is this moskal woman who tells you what to do?”

“She is no one,” I said as I stepped in between them. “A travelling companion. I am in charge here.”

The lieutenant let out a loud gasp, unable to say anything more. Her eyes bore down on me as if I had committed a grievous sin, but more likely than not, it was just that she was not used to being challenged.

“We are on the way to Dunaivtsi,” I continued. “The sun is setting quickly and we wish to make it before we lose all our light.”

“I would not recommend that,” Seryozha said, placing his mace on his shoulder. “Dunaivtsi has a bit of a problem right now.”

“What problem is that?”

“The place is full of rich Polacks.”

At this, the rest of the Cossacks erupted in laughter, myself included. Morozova and Andrei, however, were not amused.

“They are so burdened by their grain and their coin that the poor souls must drag their feet through the earth. We, as good Christians, intend to alleviate their suffering, and perhaps send them up to God, where they will be at peace forever.”

A raid! It had been so long since I had been on a good horse-mounted raid myself. I felt that I owed it to my fallen brothers to at least take up the saddle and ride with my kin once more.

Lieutenant Morozova cleared her throat loudly.

“A word, Cossack?”

Every man with a forelock looked at her.

“I mean you,” she said, pointing to me. “Come here.”

As I excused myself from Seryozha to heed her summons, the lieutenant dismounted. Andrei, meanwhile, sat on his horse as stiff as a board.

Turning her back on the other Cossacks, she pulled me aside and whispered to me, “If you think I will stand idly by while these men ravage the village of Russia’s ally, then you are mistaken, sir.”

“Allies? Since when were we allied with the papist heretics?”

She sighed, “The Polish king once shared a bed with the czarina, and thus we soldiers have to share a bed with his nation. It is a matter of honor that I stand up for them.”

I knitted my brow. Surely she could understand that a battle of three against twelve would not be in our favor, or that sometimes one should learn to put one’s convictions aside.

“Oy, what are you murmuring about over there?” Seryozha barked.

I left the lieutenant’s side to face him with a smile on my face.

“The woman is impatient, friend. She wants to get through as soon as we are able.”

“I understand, but as I said before, it will not be safe. I would invite you to join us, brother, but I do not trust the company you keep,” he said as he glared at my companions. “We will proceed with the raid. When we are finished, you may pass, but do not think you are entitled to any of the booty.”

Sweat began to form on my brow. My choices were twofold: to either allow my brothers to sack Dunaivtsi and trigger the lieutenant to charge — possibly alone — to certain death, or to betray my fellow Cossacks… again. Thoughts raced through my head. A decision had to be made before Seryozha marched his gang away.

“Brother Seryozha,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder, “As I said, I am in charge here. These two are mere followers. I would like nothing more than to join my brethren in a raid.” As the lieutenant reached for her flintlock, I yelled, “Non! Je ferai!”

The lieutenant squinted at me, but put her hand back on the pommel of her saddle.

“You see,” I said to Seryozha. “They listen, but one has to be firm.”

“What language was that?” His voice was flat and his eyes were narrow. I had to choose my next words carefully.

“French,” I chuckled. “The moskali are so in love with foreigners that they only take things seriously if I say them in French.”

Seryozha let out a grunt.

“Brother,” I continued, “have you scouted out the village yet?”

“It is a village, they are built as any other. There is no need to, for what defenses would they have?”

Quietly, I thanked God for this small oversight. I shook my head and wagged a finger at him, “Yes, but Dunaivtsi is a border village. I would not want my brethren to be overrun by Polish regulars.”

He nodded his head slowly.

“How much faith do you have in me?”

“Considering your choice of companions, not much.”

“Well, allow me to offer my services as a scout for your men. If I die, you do not lose any of your own, and if I come back, I will tell you the state of the town.”

“How sure can I be that you will not simply tell the town that we are coming?” Seryozha’s voice lowered. “I should kill you where you stand, just to be safe.”

I glanced at the lieutenant to make sure her hand kept away from her flintlock, then I continued.

“I will leave my companions here on the road with you. If you smell the slightest whiff of betrayal, you may snuff them out as you please.”

Andrei coughed like he had swallowed a whole potato, while Seryozha let out another dissatisfied grunt.

“There is no risk here, brother. I merely wish to ensure your safety.”

For a moment, Seryozha said nothing, but merely looked me over from my toes to my head. The sun continued to set over the horizon, and the redness of the sky deepened even more.

“I will confer with my comrades,” he said as he turned to face his men.

I crossed my arms and smirked. I was winning this battle of wits.

“Hey,” the lieutenant hissed through her teeth. “What the hell are you doing? Do you mean to sell us out?”

“Remain calm and stay here with Andrei. I have a devious plan… that I might come to regret.”

Meanwhile, Seryozha and his men were exchanging whispers, and most were giving approving nods. From their hushed tones, I heard them say,

“The stranger is right.”

“If he dies, he dies.”

“It is merely reconnaissance.”

At once, all of Seryozha’s companions nodded in agreement. The giant returned to me and said, “My companions are in agreement. You may scout for us, but hand over your weapons to me. I do not trust you completely.”

“I would not have it any other way,” I said, already loosening my belt to give him my pistol and sword. The dagger, however, I kept with me.

“Swear on the cross that you will not kill any of my brethren, and no harm will come to your companions.”

Swearing on the cross; I truly did miss the old ways. At his words, I unbuttoned my shirt and puffed out my chest to him, exposing the large wooden cross I wore around my neck. Mercifully, it was large enough to obscure the czarina’s golden eagle that lay just behind it.

“Before God I swear.”

Seryozha nodded, “Go then, reconnoiter the village, but be quick about it.”

Already, a feeling of regret snaked through my spine, and I felt the Lord look down on me for what I was about to do.

As I approached the village of Dunaivtsi, upon closer inspection it seemed to be less of a quaint village and more of a manor town. The small meanly-built wooden structures scattered about seemed to grovel before the only two buildings that had more than one floor: the church and the manor. Fitting.

A lone sentry in his red and blue uniform stood by the roadside leaning on a milestone marker etched with the town’s name. The man was hardly awake enough to challenge me as I passed him. When I neared the town proper, I could hear nothing but street dogs and the occasional whinnying of a distant horse. The civilian residents in Dunaivtsi, likewise, had vacated the streets of the sleepy town hours ago, and were unlikely to return until the next day.

If the Cossacks attacked now, they would have no problem routing the garrison and burning the town to the ground.

My heart was rendered in two — I could simply return and have the Cossacks wipe Dunaivtsi off the face of the earth, but risk the wrath of the czarina and the life of my companions, especially Lieutenant Morozova, whom I am sure would have gladly thrown her life away for the sake of duty and honor; or I could proceed with my original plan: foil the plot of my fellow Cossacks, earn the respect and admiration of my companions, and hopefully be able to gain the trust of the villagers that they might supply us free of charge. In my mind, I recited over and over that they were not from my host. I had never seen these men before in my life, but yet, the truth was that all Cossacks were brothers through the three lashes of the whip that we all received as initiates. We were literally brothers by blood and what I planned to do plagued my conscience to no end.

So empty were the streets of the town that I was able to stroll up to the very gates of the lord’s manor without being challenged. It was a formidable looking place with its distinctly foreign construction and numerous gilded window frames, although the church stood slightly taller. The gate was of course, closed, but the finely embellished wrought-iron bars and bricks that made up the wall provided many places for hand-holds and foot-holds.

With great care not to impale myself on the spikes that topped the manor’s wall, I bounded into the manor’s grounds and walked up to the lord’s front door to give it a sound knocking. I would not barge in like a thief, for that would surely get me shot.

After three loud thumps on the door and a bit of waiting, I was met by a young gentleman in a wig who reminded me very much of Andrei, except that he was wearing the Polish red and blue instead of the Russian green.

“Go away,” he said in a flat tone as he looked down his nose at me. “Beggars belong at the church, you know that.”

“Are you the lord of the manor?” I asked.

“I am his gentleman,” was all that I needed to hear before I shoved him aside and barged into the house, which prompted him to shriek for help.

“Where is the lord of the manor?!” I shouted over the ‘gentleman’s’ cries.

On the manor’s upper floor balcony, a door burst open. A man wearing a cap and nightgown appeared with a flintlock and aimed it at me.

“I am Jan Krasinski, lord of this manor!” he shouted as he primed his weapon. “You will leave now, sir, or be relieved of your life!”

I let out a soft chuckle and put my hands on my hips.

“My name is Rodion Ivanovich Kazansky, Your Grace. If you do not wish for your entire town to be burned…”

“Get out!”

“...If you do not wish for your entire town to be burned, you will listen to me.”

“I will count to five!”

“Standing outside your town is a force of ravenous Cossacks.”

“Five!”

My God, this was a stubborn fellow. “Your Grace, they intend on razing Dunaivtsi to the ground.”

“Four!”

“I intend to help you save your town!”

“Three!”

“If you kill me, you kill all hope of survival!”

“Two!”

My eyes widened. I heard the musket’s mechanism click. This was no bluff.

“One!”

Thinking quickly, I bore my chest to the lord and removed my wooden cross to show the double-headed eagle of the czarina.

“Would you shoot a representative of Her Imperial Highness?”

I stood there with the imperial seal exposed on my chest, teeth clenched, and one eye shut in expectation of the worst. The whole house was silent save for my heavy breathing.

At last, the Polish nobleman shouldered his musket and called out to me,

“What do you know of the czarina?”

I let out a relieved wheeze and buttoned up my shirt.

“I am her agent to the west, and soon, Your Grace and your town will be introduced to the fires of pillage at the hands of a band of Cossacks.”

Krasinski paused for a moment, visibly confused.

“Are you not a Cossack?” he said, pointing to my forelock. “That hair…”

His words only reminded me of my betrayal. I gritted my teeth in remorse.

“Yes, this is true, but I have come to offer a plan for your survival and the survival of this village. If you wish to die, then it will be as simple as turning me away.”

Krasinski put his hand to his chin, glancing between myself and his musket as if he was still unsure of me. I did not blame the man. I too would be mistrustful if a ragged stranger burst into my home with wild claims of imminent danger. But alas, he relented.

“Tell me this plan.”

What was left of the sunlight was now bidding its goodnight kisses to the stars. I strode back to the road with a smile on my face and a pipe in my mouth. The sentry that had been keeping watch by the road was absent, a sign that my plan was being heeded. Tucked under my arm was an ornate chest, hewn from the finest red pine wood. The Cossacks were waiting for me by the roadside with Andrei and Lieutenant Morozova still unharmed. Seryozha walked up to me to greet me.

“I was beginning to think you had deserted.”

“Would I betray my brothers so quickly?” I laughed. Apparently I would, if only to keep my companions safe. I cringed through my false smile after the lie escaped my teeth.

“What news of the village then?” Seryozha paused and squinted at me in the fading light. “Wait a moment, where did you find that pipe and that chest?”

“In due time goodman Seryozha, but first, I have great news for everyone,” I said, dropping the chest on the ground. “There will be no need for bloodshed. The entire village has surrendered. You and your men are free to walk into the manor and take what you wish!”

Seryozha leveled his eyes to mine. He scowled in disbelief and exhaled through his large nostrils.

“You are telling me that you made the entire village surrender by yourself?”

“Well, I put the matter to them like so: would they rather lose their possessions alone, or lose their possessions, their homes, and their lives? They shuddered in fear when I told them a great host of Cossacks was coming, duped them just as Gedeon did the Midians! The village is nothing more than some houses surrounding a summer dacha, hardly defended.”

“Mhm,” he grunted. “What do you have in the box?”

“Ah, this,” I said as I opened the chest. “This is my share of the loot.”

The Cossacks crowded around me in curiosity, peering at the contents of the chest in wide-eyed wonder.

“What? Why?” Seryozha said through gritted teeth. “This is three sausages and half a dozen eggs!”

I closed the box and said with a nod, “Yes, and they are mine.”

“As the first one in, you could have your pick from the loot and you chose zakuski and a smoke?”

“This is how I see it, brother: If I had taken any gold, you and your men would have taken it from me by force, and since I do not have the means to defend myself and my companions are outnumbered, it would be a fool’s choice to resist. Am I wrong?”

Seryozha grunted.

“Secondly,” I continued, “the czarina has been kind enough to take care of any expenses I may incur during this journey. To take any more, even from papists, would be avarice; and as we know, avarice is a sin. But for you sir, the manor’s gate lies open and the streets are clear of opposition. Once you enter, you may take away any treasure that you seek. I would go now, before it becomes too dark to find your way.”

The large Cossack stroked his mustache in deep thought and said, “I am inclined to believe you. You did come back with something, and the villagers did not raise the alarm, so there is proof of the matter. We thank you for the small errand you have done for us.”

With that, my weapons were returned to me and the Cossack band marched into the village, singing as they went.

Some time after the last Cossack cleared our line of sight, Lieutenant Morozova’s face turned a ghastly white. I could see it even in this moonlight.

“What have you done, traitor?” She said, her lips shaking.

“I believe I have done what our czarina would have wanted me to do.”

“By forcing the surrender of an allied town?!”

“Would you care for an egg, madame?”

“How dare you!”

“It is only an egg.”

“You betrayed Russia’s trust, you betrayed my trust!”

“Wait and listen.”

“What?”

Just then, the sound of a dozen muskets rang through the air. I winced at the sound, knowing what my actions had cost.

“What was that?” asked the lieutenant.

“That was the sound of a problem being erased,” I said. I tried to sound stoic, but a deep weight formed inside my heart. This was the second time I had betrayed my own people. Silently, I prayed to God there would not be a third.

“What do you mean ‘erased?’ What did you do?”

“Those men attempted to raid the village, so I lured them into an ambush. After a few words with the local lord, I convinced him to prepare his men for the Cossacks’ arrival and to lay an ambush for them inside the manor.”

“Very clever,” she said with an approving nod. “I would never have thought you to be such a sound strategist.”

If I were in a happier mood, I would have said something witty and charming, but the lieutenant’s words did nothing to dull my pain. I flashed a false smile at her and mounted my horse again.

“Shall we move on?”

“Of course,” she said. I could see hints of a smirk on the corners of her mouth. “Andrei Vasilyevich, it’s time to move.”

“Of course, Your Nobility.”

The little man seemed distracted, fiddling with something in his hand. At first I could not see it in the low light, but the sheen of a steel barrel revealed that he was fumbling with his flintlock pistol.

“What are you doing?” I asked, partly out of concern for the man’s safety, and partly out of genuine curiosity as to why he was even touching a weapon.

“Monsieur Kazansky, I have never feared for my life as much as I had today. I fear that I have been spared from death only by the grace of God and by your… cunning ruse,” the compliment made him wince, as if his words were bitter. “I fear that I may never be granted the same chance again. So,” he said, bringing the weapon to half-cock, “I intend to familiarize myself with…”

Lieutenant Morozova shook her head, “Andrei Vasilyevich, don’t do that.”

“Do what, Your Nobility?”

With the gentlest motion, the lieutenant reached over to Andrei’s weapon and clasped her hand around the flintlock’s firing mechanism, bringing the cock back to a safe position.

“This is what you were busying yourself with all this time?” she scolded. “Playing with your pistol? You have never killed a man before, and I do not believe you will ever find it in yourself to. Leave the dangerous business to me and the Cossack here. We will protect you.”

Andrei pursed his lips and holstered his weapon. I could tell he had never been chastised like this before, and it was especially painful coming from a woman. Still, the lieutenant was correct.

When we rode into the town that night, we had our safety guaranteed. We resupplied at no cost at Dunaivtsi, owing to the gratitude of His Grace Lord Krasinski, and we were able to stay at a fine inn at the lord’s expense.

That night, we drank till we could drink no longer and ate till we were sick. Apparently our limits varied wildly. While I downed flagon after flagon of mead and tore apart the roast pig that our hosts had graciously set before us, the lieutenant’s social graces would only allow her to have two small glasses of rose-flavored kaliniak and the daintiest bits of ham and thin-sliced potatoes. Andrei was as drunk as a sunken ship after mixing gruszeczniak, jeżyniak, borówczak, and every manner of -niak, wishing to sample as much as he could. These Poles and their impossible varieties of flavored mead were a blessing.

I tried to forget the events that led up to our hearty welcome, but the betrayal haunted me into my dreams, and I only managed to drift off to sleep in the small hours of the morning, with the musket fire that had faded away hours before still ringing in my ears.