Chapter Text
Flashing, streaking colors - whites, greens, browns - a blur. And cold, cold whipping air - stinging her face, her eyes, her ears. But something warm near her. She is clinging to someone. They’re flying across the snowy ground; she’s nauseous and frightened. They’re fleeing - someone, something...The horse is galloping, moving swiftly over frozen farmland.
Anna Viktorovna’s dream changes suddenly. She and Yakov are no longer fleeing on horseback. The land is less forested now - the pastures extend for miles. In the distance a dark shape lays in the ground - a mound of dirt? An animal? A person? The day is cloudy and grey. She hears the labored breathing of a horse, followed by snorts and blows, and then an awful, pained, high-pitched scream. She’s coming up fast on the mound, the ground blurring again and the clouds rushing by. She makes out the form of a horse - unmoving, dead, blood on its head and hindquarters. Closer now, she sees the gashes - long, ragged, flesh and blood - carvings.
Then it’s gone - the visions. Anna awakes - cold and damp with sweat, breathing fast. It’s still early. But the sun has yet to rise. Sitting up in her bed, it takes a moment for her to remember where she is. ‘How long will it be before St. Petersburg feels like home?’ she thinks.
Anna’s rooms are comfortable and decorated with familiar objects - her favorite coverlet, photos of her family, the small chest in which she stores her spirit board. Anna’s landlord, Inessa Egonova, is a delightful and fortunate acquaintance; one made through Anna’s uncle, Pytor Mironov. Anna suspects there was a romantic connection. Inessa was kind and welcoming; her own residence adjoining Anna’s, sharing a kitchen, and conveniently, a housekeeper who also cooks.
Anna Mironova slipped on a pair of ivory silk house shoes and wrapped herself in a camel-colored cotton dressing gown. Rumikova was prepping her usual Sunday morning cheese buns, the samovar already steaming. Anna bid her good morning and set to preparing the tea tray for herself and Inessa Davidovna, who would surely join them in the wonderfully cozy kitchen soon. The round wood table nestled in the far corner of the roomy cooking space had hosted all but one of Anna’s meals in the apartment. The third evening after Pytor Ivanovich accompanied Anna on her relocation to the capital, the three of them - Anna, Pytor, and Inessa - dined in the formal dining room.
Anna was enjoying her first cup of tea with jam when Inessa strode in - fully clothed in a dark green riding suit - a slim-fitting double-breasted jacket over a white collared shirt and handsome grey-striped necktie combined with a full skirt. Inessa was twenty years older than Anna, a bit shorter and fuller in the chest with golden-beige skin, hazel eyes, and dark-ginger hair. A widow with no children, she owned two tea shops in St. Petersburg, in addition to letting out the rooms in which Anna lived.
“Ah! Don’t you look magnificent!” Anna exclaimed. She smiled up at Inessa, happy to have her company. Although still new, the women’s relationship was relaxed and mutually respectful. They easily enjoyed meals, card games and conversation, but just as easily, they could retire to their own rooms for uninterrupted privacy.
“Thank you,” Inessa responded, curtsying. “You are still coming to the stables today? It promises to be a lovely morning.”
“Yes, of course.” Anna answered. Inessa Egonova’s initial invitation included riding lessons for Anna. Anna Mironova rejected that offer immediately. While she appreciated that men and women rode horses for pleasure, she had no interest in approaching the large, beautiful, intimidating animals, much less sitting atop one herself. Inessa had pressed the issue for a few minutes before relenting and suggesting Anna join her to enjoy a day in the country.
Having eaten their fill of vatrushkas, tea, and fruit, Anna washed and dressed. It was a glorious morning - full of sunshine and blue sky, the only breeze created by the movement of the carriage along the cobblestone streets. They traveled south and west of the city, crossing the Fontanka River, where buildings became sparse. Woods, farms, and large pastures dominated the landscape.
As they rounded a gently sloping hillside, a long low building of red brick, white trim, and charcoal clay tiles came into view. Ivy covered the north wall, smoke from several fires puffed out of smokestacks, and a few yards from the stables, a riding ring enclosed in a white quatrefoil-patterned fence drew the visitor’s eye. On the far side of the arena, a small but growing group of stable boys, trainers, and riders congregated.
Inessa and Anna alighted near the ring, shouts and loud calls from the crowd nearby demanded their attention. Along with two gentleman-riders, who arrived moments earlier, the ladies tripped across the snowy path to the animated group. Observers on the edge of the throng stood aghast, some turning their heads away or covering their faces with kerchiefs. Anna Viktorovna caught a glimpse of the object at the center of the commotion.
The poor creature lay sprawled surrounded by pink snow, its coat more crimson than white. The horse’s dark eyes stared skywards and its mouth hung open, lips pulled back to reveal large teeth. Anna gasped as details of the mutilation became evident. The mane and tail had been hacked off leaving two inch gashes of flesh, and thick, partially frozen blood trailed from the ears to the shoulder. It was too much - the ugliness of the violence and horror of the desecration. Anna Viktorovna felt her stomach lurch; she turned away and hurried from the scene.
Deep breaths and the cold air restored Anna’s equilibrium. Inessa Davidovna found her moments later. The two walked past the first set of stables, expressing disbelief that anyone could do such a hideous thing. Entering the second building, Inessa’s black Orlov Trotter peered up at them as they approached his stall. He nickered and pricked his ears, anticipating something interesting and maybe a treat.
Anna watched Inessa and her horse, Alp, warm up with a brisk walk about the ring and a few trotted circles. Even to Anna’s untrained eye, Alp appeared distracted. Not surprising - the activity by the dead horse was continuous and in full view of the riding arena. As the crowd thinned, Anna Mironova, chanced a second inspection of the dead animal. Two constables had arrived, shooing away the curious and questioning those who had made the grisly discovery.
Now absent the gawking men and women, Anna Viktorovna could get a full picture of the horse and the boot tracks that lead to and from the body. Aside from the heinous wounds that riveted the eye, Anna noticed a collection of markings on the animal's hindquarters - a four-inch slightly curved thin center line with four smaller arched lines branching off, and on each arched line, two diamond shapes were carved. Her investigation was interrupted by the arrival of a sled and several young men, who went to work preparing a make-shift sling to haul the carcass away.
The spectacle and police now gone, Anna found herself alone at the crime scene. Surveying the depression left by the fallen horse, a piece of metal glinted. Extracting the ornament from the snow, Anna Mironova examined the gem-encrusted gold tie pin made in the shape of an eye. She turned toward the buildings in hope of flagging a constable, but the police had departed. Anna wrapped the item in her handkerchief and placed it in her handbag.