Read Online Veils of Silk by Mary Jo Putney - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mary Jo Putney
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painless. The amir considered himself humane when he changed from hanging to beheading."
"Forgive me if I'm not impressed by the amir's kindness," she said dryly. "But at least you managed to survive. Did the British government arrange for your release from prison?"
"Hardly. They were quite willing to assume that I was dead," Ian said, not quite able to conceal his bitterness. "My sister and her husband came to Bokhara and rescued me from that damned hole by sheer bluster."
Laura's eyes rounded. "Your
sister
!"
"Juliet is rather remarkable. If you like, I'll tell you the whole story later, but now I want to carry out Pyotr's last request." Ian leaned over to his baggage and extracted a small rectangular package, then handed it to Laura. "He asked me to see that you got this if I ever had the chance. Since I knew where your stepfather was stationed, I decided to deliver it in person."
She unwrapped the waterproof covering to find a small Russian Bible. The volume was a work of art, with a cover of tooled leather and a hand-painted frontispiece that depicted the Virgin and Child in the distinctive style of the Orthodox Church. But the greatest value lay in the fact that every available inch of blank paper was covered with penciled words written in Russian.
"It's Pyotr's prison journal," the major said. "He wanted you to have it."
She thumbed through the Bible, aching inside at the knowledge that her only uncle had written these words, and now he was dead. "Have you read what he wrote?"
Cameron shook his head. "I learned some spoken Russian from Pyotr, mostly curse words, but I don't read or write the language at all. Can you decipher it?"
She stopped on a middle page and studied the Cyrillic script, which was so small as to be almost illegible. "My Russian is still fluent and I'm familiar with Uncle Pyotr's hand since he wrote me regularly, but this is almost like a code. He seems to have used abbreviations and left out words to save space." Brow furrowed, she slowly translated, "I think this says 'God be thanked, company has arrived. An Englishman, more's the pity, but better than nothing.' " She smiled, then bit her lower lip. "I'm sorry. I'm sure he didn't mean it as an insult."
"You needn't apologize for Pyotr. I was equally unenthralled at finding myself sharing quarters with a Russian officer. But in time I realized that I could not have asked for a better companion in adversity."
She sighed. "You knew him far better than I did. To me, Pyotr was a magical figure, not quite real. He would swoop in every few years bearing gifts and telling tales. I remember one story about a great bear that traveled the ice fields of the north searching for the Pole Star. Instead, he found a princess named Lara. The next day, Pyotr was gone again." Remembering, she ran her palm over the gilded leather, wishing she could draw out the essence of her uncle. "Thank you for bringing me this. It helps a little to have something of his."
The Scots burr in Cameron's voice became more pronounced. "I'm sorry he isn't here in person. If he hadn't sacrificed himself, perhaps he would be. Juliet and Ross would not have left Pyotr in prison if they had found him alive instead of me."
Hearing the guilt and regret, Laura said, "But you told me Pyotr was very ill. He always had weak lungs, so he probably would not have survived the extra time in prison."
"There's no way to be sure of that," Ian said tightly. "Neither he nor I were physicians. He might have been strong enough to last another six months."
The pain in the major's voice made Laura feel a fleeting sense of kinship with him. Pyotr and Kenneth might be beyond grief now, but their survivors would be suffering for a long time. "You mustn't blame yourself for living," she said gently. "If you hadn't, I might never have known what happened to my uncle, nor had this to remember him by." It didn't go far enough, but she was too drained to manage more. "I'd better get dressed. As you said,
"Forgive me if I'm not impressed by the amir's kindness," she said dryly. "But at least you managed to survive. Did the British government arrange for your release from prison?"
"Hardly. They were quite willing to assume that I was dead," Ian said, not quite able to conceal his bitterness. "My sister and her husband came to Bokhara and rescued me from that damned hole by sheer bluster."
Laura's eyes rounded. "Your
sister
!"
"Juliet is rather remarkable. If you like, I'll tell you the whole story later, but now I want to carry out Pyotr's last request." Ian leaned over to his baggage and extracted a small rectangular package, then handed it to Laura. "He asked me to see that you got this if I ever had the chance. Since I knew where your stepfather was stationed, I decided to deliver it in person."
She unwrapped the waterproof covering to find a small Russian Bible. The volume was a work of art, with a cover of tooled leather and a hand-painted frontispiece that depicted the Virgin and Child in the distinctive style of the Orthodox Church. But the greatest value lay in the fact that every available inch of blank paper was covered with penciled words written in Russian.
"It's Pyotr's prison journal," the major said. "He wanted you to have it."
She thumbed through the Bible, aching inside at the knowledge that her only uncle had written these words, and now he was dead. "Have you read what he wrote?"
Cameron shook his head. "I learned some spoken Russian from Pyotr, mostly curse words, but I don't read or write the language at all. Can you decipher it?"
She stopped on a middle page and studied the Cyrillic script, which was so small as to be almost illegible. "My Russian is still fluent and I'm familiar with Uncle Pyotr's hand since he wrote me regularly, but this is almost like a code. He seems to have used abbreviations and left out words to save space." Brow furrowed, she slowly translated, "I think this says 'God be thanked, company has arrived. An Englishman, more's the pity, but better than nothing.' " She smiled, then bit her lower lip. "I'm sorry. I'm sure he didn't mean it as an insult."
"You needn't apologize for Pyotr. I was equally unenthralled at finding myself sharing quarters with a Russian officer. But in time I realized that I could not have asked for a better companion in adversity."
She sighed. "You knew him far better than I did. To me, Pyotr was a magical figure, not quite real. He would swoop in every few years bearing gifts and telling tales. I remember one story about a great bear that traveled the ice fields of the north searching for the Pole Star. Instead, he found a princess named Lara. The next day, Pyotr was gone again." Remembering, she ran her palm over the gilded leather, wishing she could draw out the essence of her uncle. "Thank you for bringing me this. It helps a little to have something of his."
The Scots burr in Cameron's voice became more pronounced. "I'm sorry he isn't here in person. If he hadn't sacrificed himself, perhaps he would be. Juliet and Ross would not have left Pyotr in prison if they had found him alive instead of me."
Hearing the guilt and regret, Laura said, "But you told me Pyotr was very ill. He always had weak lungs, so he probably would not have survived the extra time in prison."
"There's no way to be sure of that," Ian said tightly. "Neither he nor I were physicians. He might have been strong enough to last another six months."
The pain in the major's voice made Laura feel a fleeting sense of kinship with him. Pyotr and Kenneth might be beyond grief now, but their survivors would be suffering for a long time. "You mustn't blame yourself for living," she said gently. "If you hadn't, I might never have known what happened to my uncle, nor had this to remember him by." It didn't go far enough, but she was too drained to manage more. "I'd better get dressed. As you said,
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