The Great War of the Quartet (The Imperial Timeline Book 1) (23 page)

The experts in the General Planning Department obviously
couldn’t plan too far in advance, but it was likely that the 9th, 14th, and 22nd Mechanized Armies would be employed to cross the Ural River and spearhead the advance on central Russia and the Caucasus once everything in Asia east of the 50th meridian was under Imperial control. However, that was far into the future; Turkestan was pretty big, and even the successful and swift destruction of all Russian forces would still require plenty of time to occupy the country and prepare infrastructure to support further offensive operations. The operation to liberate Russian Asia had been planned to last all the way through the month of March and over into September or October in the fall, which was the point when the General Staff hoped to have the full armored might ready and in place to push up into Europe during the winter and early spring of next year.

He wanted to be optimistic; e
ven if the Russians would fight heroically, it was surely impossible that they would overwhelm the Imperial Army. The humiliation that had preceded the enemy offensive in the Altay Campaign had been a fluke and the result of poor planning and logistics, as well as the simple fact that Shinkyou Military District had been one of the weakest military districts before the war and the General Staff had not provided adequate equipment before it had begun to move into Russia. Now the Imperial Army had bolstered its tank fleets and had augmented the strength of its forces across the board. Although Hakumine hoped it would not be necessary, Junior General Morioka had said that the Supreme War Council was intent on pursuing the war to its natural conclusion, and a formal proclamation from the Chrysanthemum Throne seemed to indicate that it wasn’t just a bunch of politicking generals who were keen on total victory but a decision from the Throne. If the Emperor called for the Russians to be expelled, it would be more than enough of an imperative for the Imperial Army to carry out that supreme order. Even if that meant letting the infantry march all the way to Petersburg, the poor bastards. Walking thousands of miles on foot had to be a pretty unfortunate lot, and Hakumine could imagine the horrible blisters and chafes all that marching would accrue.

“Where have you been?” Meryem asked, trying to not sound ungrateful or spiteful after Daryn’s appearance this late.

There was a bad stereotype about certain women, although those tended to be the kind of mothers-in-law who would abuse their daughters-in-law rather than their husbands—but she didn’t want to be any kind of bad woman. Nevertheless, her belly was growling for food, and she had done little this past hour or two but think about opening one of the tin cans and helping herself to it before he finally showed up.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, although not with much conviction, like he had just accidentally stepped on her toes rather than to be out past midnight.

He wasn’t really sorry, was he? She wanted to feel bad for being annoyed with him, since she should know better than to be a bad wife. After all, he had a job to do; he wasn’t just out going to teahouses and having a good time while she was sitting here all alone with her stupid fat belly growling like a savage animal. Her hunger for food was almost at the point where it hurt, but she hadn’t touched the little tins.

“Did you bring anything for me?” she asked.

He looked at her, maybe not getting what she meant.

“I meant something to eat,” she mumbled, a little embarrassed for sounding greedy.

Was something wrong?

“I forgot,” he said absentmindedly, walking over to one of the bags down by the wall to rummage around inside it. “Here,” he said, holding up a tin, “supper.”

So she could have just had one hours ago? Here she had been devotedly not touching any of their reserve tins since she expected him to bring her something, and now she was supposed to take one? She wanted to say something, she really did. He should know how bad her tummy had been aching from hunger while she had been diligently waiting like a good girl. However, she didn’t want to make him cross by being ungrateful or burdensome—she had to keep her promise to be a lighter burden than a flea on a dog. He said that she had to keep up with him, and that’s what she had to do. But she was still very upset about being hungry for no good reason, and she was quietly fuming while he opened the can with his little opener.

She didn’t say anything when he handed it to her with a spoon. However, rather than notice her disgruntled mood, he quickly turned away to pull off his boots as if she wasn’t even there. For a moment she kept looking at him, wanting him to see that she wasn’t happy, but the smell of the solid chunk of pressed beef was too overwhelming, and she pried away a piece with the spoon.

The salty meat was not bad, but it was different from the food the cook had made for her back in Tekika. Other than regular baths, she missed the food the most. Whenever she felt regretful for leaving, she had to remind herself that she was serving the country, but she really missed home and good food—good food like the kind she had grown up on. There was something nostalgic about it, and it was like a completely different world now after so much time spent away. Two years soon, and she wondered if her parents thought she was dead. She couldn’t keep the charade of being away in Africa going, since she had no time to post fake letters. And even if she had the time and paper to write, how could she mail them? Surely Russian mailmen wouldn’t travel to Japan, and Daryn had looked at her like she was an idiot when she had asked about whether he could add a short message for Mommy to his correspondence with his superiors in the Army Intelligence Department. All she wanted was to let Mommy know that she was fine. Meryem had no doubt that she was worrying about her little big girl.

She dug out another morsel of meat with her spoon. It was beef, wasn’t it? She had been quietly upset for days when she had learned too late that she had eaten disgusting pork when they were out on the steppe. Despite how much he had insisted, it had not been the least bit funny, and she had felt sick for God-knows how long afterwards. He should have told her. He really should have. Even if he pretended like eating pig didn’t bother him, she was sure it did. It was disgusting—like eating dog.

At the time she had found it satisfying, a bit salty, but she had assumed it was from some kind of Russian bovine. Although she had accepted Daryn’s saying that God would understand that there wasn’t any alternative, she always made sure that she knew that the cans were safe. She wouldn’t want to eat that disgusting animal ever again. While she kept eating, Daryn undressed down to his long johns and undershirt and tucked himself in under a blanket. She was taking her time, trying to enjoy each spoonful to its utmost.

“Turn off the lamp when you’re done, will you?” he said before he turned to face the wall.

She frowned, feeling like he was totally ignoring her. For some reason, it made her particularly angry, and she just lost it.

“You know, your wife is pregnant,” she said gruffly, not thinking before she spoke.

She immediately scolded herself for being so stupid, but she secretly wanted him to know. Regardless of what he might say, she had let it out now, and she couldn’t walk it back. Yet he didn’t jump up happy or upset about her for mindlessly getting herself pregnant. He didn’t say anything at all. He kept lying there facing the wall in silence, as if he hadn’t heard her. Meryem wanted to hit herself for telling him her secret. But then, as her mind raced, she decided that she wanted to go home.

She wanted him to take her home right now and forget all about being away and leaving her sitting in this little cupboard all alone and doing nothing but thinking about food and a hot, nice bath. Indeed, she could see the two trekking back across the frontier, him being proud to return to his father, telling him that he would have a grandson soon, and everything being all good and nice again. She hardly knew Daryn’s mother and father, and she imagined everyone being all good to her even though he had not had his father’s permission to “abduct” her. Yes, she wanted to be home with him and out of the dirty pants and stupid Russian shirt. She never wanted to look like some kind of Russian ever again.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” she asked, her voice much quieter and shyer than moments earlier. “Aren’t you angry with me?”

He had to have heard what she said. Was he too overwhelmed? He could be. Just as it had shocked her when she noticed that she was fat, it had to be a shock to him too.

“I’m not blind,” he said, not turning over. “Just finish eating and go to sleep.”

What?!
How could he know? She had only just realized, and it was inside her that things were going on. She fumed, her feeling of being ignored going far beyond anything she had felt these past days. If he knew that she had a baby, then why hadn’t he said something? Shouldn’t he be cross with her for getting herself pregnant? Had he forgotten that he was the one who had said that it wouldn’t do, even though he was the one going off inside her? Considering the circumstances, she would not have been surprised if he would have been a bit scary to her if he found out.

“Didn’t you hear me?” she asked, ignoring the fact that he had proved his hearing her.

“I’m tired,” he said, taunting her with his back turned to her and the little lamp. “Go to sleep.”

“No, I want you to say something,” she said, crawling over to him.

She sat down just behind his head, and he looked over his shoulder, up at her. His face didn’t look very happy. Instead, he looked grumpy.

“Go to bed,” he said.

“Stop saying that,” she whined, prodding his head with her hand. “Aren’t you happy?”

“No,” he curtly replied. “Go to bed.”

She bit her lip, almost making it hurt, as she boiled with anger from his cold disinterest in her. Even if he was tired, he should at least be happy.

“You said we can’t go on if I would get pregnant,” she mumbled.

“I know I said that. Go to bed now. We’ll talk about this some other time.”

Daryn had been thinking since he had noticed her big lump. It was big enough to notice when she wasn’t wearing a thick overcoat, and he had resolved that once they left the city he would leave her with someone, a reliable family that could take care of her. A bit of money, and her hard work would surely be enough for charitable people to look out for her for a few months. Or a year. He had no idea how long he would stay behind the Russians, and he couldn’t have her waddling around. As soon as they were out of Verniy he would deal with it. He had had his suspicions before they came to the city that she might be pregnant, but he had only made up his mind a few days ago.

“You’re happy, right?” she whispered. “You’re proud of us?”

“Yes. Go to bed now, I’m really tired.”

He sounded a little angry, and she knew that he could get grumpy, so she decided that she would have to be happy with that. Crawling back to the spot where she left the almost empty can, she made sure to scrape everything out and gobble it up.

For the baby
, she told herself.

The sound of a creaking floorboard made her turn her head towards the door. Men were coming and going during the day, and she was hardly ever up this late at night. Maybe someone who worked as a baker was going to work?
A bit early
.

“We are leaving early tomorrow morning,” Daryn said suddenly.

“Leaving?” she asked, at first happy, but then quickly worried. “Because of me?”

“The war,” he said, still keeping turned away from her. “The attack has started.”

“In Samarkand?” she asked.

She hadn’t heard much about it from him these past weeks, and the Japanese had been close to that city months ago.

“Everywhere,” he said. “They could be here soon. We have to get back to the major as soon as we can. Now go to bed.”

It was good to hear that the Imperial Army was on the move. She hoped all those pervy Russians would crap themselves when the victorious army would fall on them, and she would have liked to see the terror in their faces.
Oh, God is great!

“I’m happy to hear that,” she said.

“Don’t talk so much,” he mumbled. “Just go to bed.”

“Your son will be very proud of you,” she said, her mind drawing a wonderful picture of a beautiful group of sons who would take pride in being the sons of a great patriotic hero.

“Yes… Go to bed…”

“Yes, husband,” she chirped, happy to no end as she crawled over to the bag with her things.

She unbuttoned her tunic before she took out the toothbrush she kept with the small metal case with toothpowder. While Daryn didn’t brush his teeth as often, Meryem had learned in school that her teeth would rot if she didn’t, and she still shuddered when she imagined chewing food without any teeth. She tried to tell him to use toothpowder, but he mostly just picked his teeth rather than use that kind of chemical things she used. Once she was all ready to tuck herself in, she turned the valve on the lamp to extinguish the flame and cast the small room into darkness, but she didn’t cuddle up against Daryn’s back. Instead she tucked herself in on the other side of the lamp and samovar in the middle of the floor.

“Good night, husband,” she mumbled, but he didn’t answer.

Maybe he had fallen asleep already.

It wasn’t pleasant sleeping on the floor. In the morning she more often than not had a grueling ache in her thigh from lying on the wooden floorboards through the night. She missed her thick mattress from home, and that feeling of welcome when it had been laid out and prepared for her by one of the maids was sorely missed now. It wasn’t very fun to sleep like this more than one or two times, and after two years she really missed a good mattress.

The lack of a window in the room made it almost completely black without the lamp when Meryem tried to fall asleep. She tried not to think about the preceding, bizarre minutes and did what she could to clear her head completely so she might fall unconscious. Instead, she focused on happier things, like all the wonderful stories she would have about Daryn. After much effort, she was straddling unconsciousness, and she might not be able to determine whether she was awake or asleep.

She sat up with a start when the door was quickly pushed open, and she could only make out a black jackboot before a ray of bright light shone in her face, leaving her temporarily blinded, and she had no idea what was going on in the darkness around her. In the confusion with the sound of the ugly enemy language, she only tried to find her gun right before one set of clamping jackboots grabbed her hair. She screamed when she was pulled back and fell over and hit the floor hard, her scalp hurting from the hard tug on her hair that felt like it might almost yank her head off her shoulders.

God is great, God is great, God is great
, she repeated in her head, trying to understand what was happening when unfriendly hands grabbed her, yet instinctively looking for solace in the ultimate fount of peace.