Читать книгу The Bee Keeper's Daughter. Kingdom of Meridian. Vol 1. - Shian Serei - Страница 2

The Beekeepers Daughter is the first of five books in the Kingdom of Meridian Series. The story begins with Maria, a young woman struggling to survive in medieval Russia. Through a series of tragic events, she must travel across Northwestern Russia to find safety with relatives in a distant city. Along the way, her conservative life in a village fades as she navigates a new world filled with danger. Her experience becomes a personal journey in trust, adventure, love and destiny.

You are about to be taken on an exciting journey filled with folklore, Russian history, and romantic encounters. The pace is fast as Maria travels North on the Volga River trying to evade Tatar soldiers seeking to return her to Rostov. Armed only with a handful of items and the knowledge her parents gave her; she must trust her life to complete strangers while learning to survive in a world where nothing is as it seems. Her story unfolds with chaotic twists that drive her to a destiny far greater than she ever imagined.

A word about Russian culture, you’ll notice the names shifting a bit during the dialogue between characters. This shift is intentional and is a key element in how conversations take place, beginning with full formal names and then as the familiarity grows the names «soften’. For example «Maria’ becomes «Masha’ or «Manya’. Mikhail becomes Misha, Svetlana becomes Sveta and Natalya becomes Natasha or Natalie. This trend continues throughout the book and reveals when the characters are formal, friendly, serious or playful.

It was my wish to make this a historically and geographically accurate tale, but there were some points where a fact had to be sacrificed for the greater good of the story. I hope you can embrace the fictional detours as a means to further enjoy the book.

– Shiån Serei

Language Notes: The story is replete with anglicized words, meant to capture the color of Russian and other languages. These words are written in the way they are pronounced, as a benefit to the reader. You’ll find an index at the end of the book with the complete translation of each phrase.

One Night in Rostov

It is the year 1290 in the city of Rostov. Russia has changed dramatically after being conquered by the Tatar horde. Within months of the invasion, many of the local people had been forced out of their homes or were killed for resisting the army. The autumn sun is setting on a small farm at the edge of the city, where the local beekeeper, Alex, and his family, live.

Alex loaded the last barrel of Mead onto his small cart. His back ached from loading so many barrels, but the order for all his mead and honey was too good to pass up. The Tatars had destroyed so many of his hives and fields during the invasion, leaving him with limited means to pay for safe passage out of Rostov. He walked into his small farm house to bid his wife and daughter farewell.

The room was clad in hand-cut boards, cinched with mud to fill the cracks. A large clay oven filled one corner, warming the house and providing a space for cooking. A small bed fit snugly between the ceiling and top of the oven with just enough space to slide in and survive the coldest nights. A small piece of wood pivoting a single nail held the doors to an angled closet where preserves, potatoes, and onions were kept. A rear door gave exit to the garden behind the house. Wicks dipped in beeswax were cooling by the oven, as completed candles were stacked and prepared for market.

«Lena, I’m off to deliver the mead and honey to those Tatar bastards,» he said. «This should bring us enough to get out of here, finally, and move to Neva.»

«Ladno, be careful Alex. I don’t trust those monsters!» she said as she brushed her daughter Maria’s long blonde hair.

Maria was reading aloud in Latin from an illuminated script her Mother insisted she memorize by practice each night. Maria hated learning Latin and paused to respond to her father.

«I will go with you Papa,» said Maria. «It will go faster with two people,» she said setting the scroll aside and standing to don her coat.

«Net Masha, the Tatar court is not a place for young girls!» Alex said in a determined voice. He turned and walked out the door without another word.

Maria’s disappointment was obvious.

Her mother guided Maria to return to her seat, «Nice try, now let’s start from the beginning shall we?» said Lena.

«In principio creavit Deus caelum et terram» Maria began sarcastically, without looking at the script.

Lena was the town’s school teacher and the only woman who could read and write in 3 languages. Her insistence on developing Maria’s mind had been a daily ritual since Maria was five years old. Now at the age of nineteen, Maria was very skilled in linguistics and sciences though her father insisted that she keep her abilities a secret.

As the sound of Alex’s cart pulled away, Lena placed her hand on Maria’s shoulder. «Your father just wants to keep you safe; he isn’t upset with you,» Lena said calmly

Then Maria noticed that her father had left his gloves by the door.

«He forgot his gloves!» She gasped. «I’ll catch up to him and give these to him!»

She quickly ran out the door before her mother could voice her objection.

Lena sighed in frustration as she picked up the scroll that had fallen to the floor. She carefully brushed the dust from it with her hands. The scroll was sacred to their family; it had been blessed by a priest who regarded it as an icon of the church. She walked to the corner of the house, rolling the scroll and setting it on a shelf Alex had built to keep it safe. Here it could radiate its power over the entire home. Lena turned and began to pack their few belongings in anticipation of their journey the next day.

Maria’s freshly brushed hair streamed like ribbons of gold as she ran as fast as she could to catch up to her father’s cart, shouting for him to stop. The cart came to a halt as Alex turned and understood what she was doing. «Spacibo Manya» Alex said,» You may as well ride along now, it’s too dark on the streets.»

The cart slowly rode through the decimated town of Rostov, a once proud city now under the Rule of the Tatars. Each day a new rule or tax was imposed by Alchiday the warlord who had declared himself their new king.

«Papa, why did they ask for so much mead tonight?» Maria asked.

«They’re having a wedding for Alchiday and some unfortunate local girls,» Alex replied. «They breed with the conquered to stop the rebellions against his army. But marriage to these people is nothing more than buying cattle. They take wives and concubines whenever it suits them, but the women are just prisoners for breeding.»

«Why don’t the women run away then or become nuns?» Marias asked in a naive tone.

«Because they will be executed!» Alex replied harshly.

Maria’s eyes grew wide in astonishment, and she realized how dangerous and dismal such a situation would be.

«Have you not seen how they butcher anyone that defies them? Alex continued, «So many families are gone now, and for what? To rule over what remains of our little town? That’s why we are finally leaving here in the morning; this is no longer our home!»

Maria rubbed her hand over her father’s back consoling him, «Da Papa» she said in agreement.

They rode in silence the rest of the way. Each house and shop they passed showed damage or marking as a witness to the brutality that had come upon Rostov when the Tatars invaded months before. Alex’s mind flashed through the memories of his childhood in Rostov and the now empty shell that remained under Tatar rule.

The church in the center of the city became the headquarters of the warlord, Alchiday. His soldiers killed many of the town’s people while occupying the adjacent homes and shops. The local residents had been scattered to find shelter where they could, though many died defending their homes. Those, like Alex, who worked on the outer part of the city were permitted to keep their farms to serve the army’s needs.

Maria was sad to see the town she had been born in become so dark and dangerous. For nineteen years she had believed she would grow up and live a simple life of farming or perhaps meet a handsome man from a big city and raise a family there. Now, every young man in the town, every classmate or friend she knew was now gone. Only her cousin Dmitri had survived the invasion of the Tatars, and his life, like her father’s, was spared because he could provide a service to the army, hauling freight on a river boat.

As they drew closer to the large stone-built church, the horse’s hooves were the only sound on the street as they clacked on the hard clay and rocks. Alex pulled the reigns slightly, stopping the cart near the door of the church. They both began to leave the cart, but Alex stopped Maria before her feet reached the ground.

«You stay in the cart, ponimayesh?» Alex said firmly.

Maria did not reply she simply nodded and remained in her seat. Alex knocked at the large heavy door of the church and began putting his gloves on as he waited for an answer. The sound of music and shouting grew much louder as the door opened.

«Ah, Ermolenko is here.» Said the guard.

A few words were exchanged with the guard before Alex returned to the cart and began unloading it.

The horse blustered as Maria sat in the cart listening to men cheering, sounds of laughter and drunkenness and the clang of iron swords. It sounded like someone was pretending to fight in sport. Her fingers traced through her hair as she sat patiently waiting for her father to return.

Alex carried each barrel of mead inside; each trip seemed harder as he grew tired and winced at the weight of them. Finally, he finished and walked inside to collect his payment. Several minutes went by, and Maria wondered how long he would be.

Her curiosity became unbearable as she began to wonder what was happening inside the brightly lit church. The sounds and smells of food felt like an invitation to explore what a Tatar wedding looked like; she quickly stepped off the cart and walked to the door, peeking inside, hoping not to be spotted by her father.

She embraced the side of the door and carefully tilted her head just enough to see inside. There were soldiers everywhere, drinking, shouting, some pretended to fight with their swords while others ate like hungry dogs.

The middle of the room boasted a large feast of food and her father’s familiar barrels of mead were neatly stacked alongside. Toward the back of the room, several women were adorned in veils. Maria struggled to recognize them but could not make out their faces. They were all undoubtedly sad. Some were crying, and others simply sat with their heads down. It became obvious that these were the future wives of Alchiday. Not just one bride but many!

The wind from the street blew unexpectedly through the passageways and lifted Maria’s long blonde strands. As she stood in the door, her hair became dancing threads of light that dared to undulate into view. A soldier glanced toward the door and saw the young maiden with big grey eyes peering into the festivities. Within moments the soldier began walking towards her and took her by the arm. She feverishly looked around for her father, terrified of what would happen.

The soldier spoke to her in Turkic, a language she didn’t understand as he roughly pushed her through the crowd toward the rear of the room. «What is happening?» She wondered as she felt a cold fear washing over her.

It was surreal; she was in the same church she stood and listened to her priest says prayers every week. Now her feet nervously were shuffling across the dirty floor as other soldiers looked at her as if she was the best catch of a hunt.

Suddenly she recognized her father; he was standing in front of Alchiday as the warlord’s treasurer handed Alex several gold pieces for the mead and honey. Alex smiled nodded as his hand closed around the gold. He took a step back from the treasurer and turned to exit at the same moment his daughter arrived in the hands of the soldier.

Maria watched Alex’s eyes grow wide as fear transformed his familiar face. The soldier held on to Maria’s arm as he and Alchiday exchanged words in Turkic. The noise of the room created a backdrop to conceal the conversation of Alex as he spoke quickly to his daughter.

«I told you to stay in the cart!» He said with his voice cracking from fear.

«I’m sorry Papa, I don’t know what happened, I just looked for a second!» she said as tears ran down her face.

«I’m going to get you out of here!» Alex said reassuringly.

Alchiday motioned to the soldier to place Maria with the veiled women, and instantly Alex understood what would happen.

Alex snatched Maria out of the soldier’s hand and quickly slapped her face hard enough to knock her to her knees. Maria did not understand what he was doing; she only felt the burning pain of his strong hand on her cheek as she dared not to stand up. Her father had never hit her; this was beyond comprehension as she felt her body shaking in fear.

«My apologies my Lord,» Alex said quickly standing between Alchiday and Maria. «This one is a disobedient young child, not yet old enough to honor you in marriage. But I have another daughter far more beautiful and respectful. Let me punish this one at home and I’ll bring my other daughter to you this very night!»

Maria was confused; she was an only child. «Who was this other daughter? What was he saying?» she thought.

As her father spoke with Alchiday, she looked at the future brides sitting a few feet away. The veiled women were watching her, she could see them more clearly now and recognized their faces.

«Lilia… Nadia… Katya?» She whispered in shock as they acknowledged her through their tears.

These were her classmates, the girls she had grown up with and here they were like prisoners, sentenced to a life of service to the man that had invaded their town and killed their families. In a single breath, everything had been revealed, and Maria understood she was about to added to their sorrow. Suddenly the reality of the situation rushed over Maria, like a burning rain of fear.