The Winter Thief

100

Marta and Gosdan’s wedding was held at Father Zadian’s church late that spring. Vera ground out the cigarette beneath her shoe and entered the cool dimness of the church. All of Kurtulush seemed to be there. Gosdan stood beaming by the altar. Roses spilled from every vase, scenting the air.

Marta wore a white lace gown with a long veil that covered her face and billowed behind her. Vera thought she saw Marta nod in her direction as she passed. The bride held a bouquet of white roses, and when Gosdan lifted the veil, Vera saw a young, vibrant woman whom she barely recognized as the rectory housekeeper. They placed crowns on each other’s heads and drank wine from the same goblet.

Father Zadian blessed them, “Christ protect them under the shadow of thy holy and honorable cross in peace.” Guests tossed rose petals over the new couple as they swept from the church down the street toward the taverna where they were to have their wedding meal.

As Vera stepped out of the church into the light, she felt faint. Gabriel’s dying face interposed with that of Victor. She thought of Siranoush Ana’s corpse clinging to her daughter’s back. Vera’s heart began to race, trying to outrun all the horror it had witnessed.

She sat down on the steps of the church and began to cry. She was crying for them all, for herself, for the rage that now resided within her. When Vera looked up, she saw Marta hastening toward her, the veil billowing in the breeze so that she seemed a marvelous, iridescent creature.

This is what I will cling to, Vera promised herself, when I’m in Tiflis with Apollo.