Black Harvest

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Zviad lay naked on his back, Bedisa on top of his huge belly. Both were slick with sweat. Zviad had his eyes open. He was thinking. Usually after one of their sexual bouts he would fall into a short sleep. Not sleep, really. More like a ten minute escape from reality. A ten minute escape for her.

Not today. Bedisa waited. She knew better than to say anything. Her body rose and fell with Zviad's breathing.

"Iosif called."

She waited.

"The Americans went to Bulgaria, to Sofia. Iosif has gone after them."

"Why Bulgaria?"

"Who knows?" He pushed Bedisa roughly onto the bed and stood.

He pulled on one of the red satin robes he favored. She watched in relief as the robe covered his massive buttocks. It was getting harder to pretend. Zviad's body disgusted her. He smelled. His skin had a greasy quality to it that made her feel dirty. His large penis was about his only redeeming physical quality as far as she was concerned. Iosif wasn't as well endowed, but he could be manipulated in ways impossible with Zviad. If all went well, she wouldn't have to put up with Zviad much longer.

She felt her abdomen where the baby was forming. It would show, soon. Zviad didn't know she was pregnant. Bedisa was sure the child was Iosif's. If Zviad suspected it wasn't his, he would kill her. Before he killed her he would cut her open and rip the child out of her womb. Zviad would know it wasn't his, once the baby was born. He was too clever not to know. It was the reason she had decided to speed up her plans.

"There's talk in town."

"What talk?"

She chose her words carefully. "You know I go to the salons. One of the women I know is married to a man who works for Rokovsky."

Rokovsky was Zviad's principle rival, boss of the Russian gangs in Moscow.

"Fuck Rokovsky. Rokovsky's mother sleeps with diseased beggars who drink slops from the brothels. What talk? Women are always talking."

"She enjoys trying to needle me. She doesn't know I allow it because I learn things useful to you." Zviad was growing impatient. She hurried. This was the dangerous part.

"The Russian thinks you are becoming weak. Bagrat's death has not been avenged. Rokovsky thinks you are afraid to do what has to be done."

Zviad's face grew dark with blood.

"Rokovsky thinks when a man's family is attacked it is a matter of honor. A man who cannot avenge his brother's death is not a man. She was saying you are not honorable. Or a man."

Zviad turned and drove his fist into the wall, smashing through the plaster. "This is what I will do to Rokovsky."

He hit the wall again and turned toward her. For a moment she was afraid. If he hit her like that it would kill her.

"What did you say to her?"

Bedisa smiled.

"I told her I knew that her husband likes men more than women. I wondered what would happen if Rokovsky found out about it. I was very polite. She turned several shades of color, mostly white. I don't think she will be saying these things about you again."

Zviad laughed. "Is it true? About her husband?"

"Yes. I'd heard rumors but I wasn't sure. The way she reacted tells me it's true."

"Good, Bedisa. I own this man now. I will use him."

"There is still the talk, Zviad. Others are wondering. You must move quickly to avenge Bagrat. What will you do?"

Zviad admired himself in a full length mirror.

"I think I will go to Bulgaria. I will make an example of this man. And his woman. An example that will be remembered. Then Rokovsky will understand who he offends. No one will speak of honor then."

Bedisa nodded. It was just what she wanted to hear.