Zaporoche~an Illya backstory~ chapter 8. The Conclusion

[mlaw]

 link to chapter 7: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/229821.html

The night before Illya was to leave his Kazaki family, they had a great party with singing and dancing, in celebration of the Kazak way of life, to which they told Illya Nickovich Kuryakin he now belonged

"Here is a Cossak!"Yuli declared in front of everyone, and gave his adopted son, young Illya, a great bear hug. "You may not have been born a Cossack, but you have the heart of one." Yuli Borosovich whispered into his ear..

It was in the middle of the night when it happened, everyone had gone to bed drunk or passed out.  They came swiftly and without mercy out of the darkness, when Illya was woken by the screams. Next to him in his bed was Magda and they both quickly dressed. Grabbing their coats, they rushed outside only to be met by horsemen riding everywhere with torches in their hands, setting the roofs of the Cossack homes on fire. The repeat of rifle and machine gun fire filled the air and Magda took off in a panic, though Illya called after her as she disappeared.

 

Illya watched from the shadows, listening to the screams as squads of governent soldiers invaded the camp of these Cossack men who had throughout Russian history, remained loyal to the Red Army. Some from the 94th Beloglisnky, 152nd Rostovsky and 48th Belorechensky regiments, some having fought to their death at the encirclement of Belostok.

Illya sadly shook his head in dismay as Soviet soldiers trampled women, and killed the precious children, hoping the Kubanskiye Kаzaki line would die out with them. There was nothing he could do, and he hid in the night, feeling like a skulking dog. Tomorrow it would be time for him to leave to report for duty at Severomorsk, on board the Zulu class submarine, Moskva. He watched in disbelief as the carnage continued. his dreams shattering with their deaths. His reality of reporting to duty would be all that remained for him...

After the destruction ended and the soldiers retreated, a grey dawn arrived; Illya walked the killing fields alone in a state of shock. He looked out, seeing the bodies of the people he had come to love strewn everywhere. Magda was dead not far from the ruin of her house where they had slept and made love. Yuli, Mykola...all of them were dead.

He heard the whimper of a child, but by the time he found her, she too was dead. Illya saw something gold, shining on the ground beside her. It was a miniature icon dropped by someone, and picking it up, he hid it close to his heart, not for worship, but as a reminder of the day, though he would in truth, he would never forget this tragedy.

He did not understand this at all as he passed the carcass of his beautiful horse, Grom...all the horses had been slaughtered as well.

Illya cast a long last look at the outside world, grim as it was at the moment. Blood was everywhere, tainting the grass of the steppes and the last of its wild flowers. Soon it would be only cold dark waters and grey skies that would surround him for the next six months. He slowly bowed his head. He had hoped to take happy memories with him, and now this would be etched in his heart instead.

A flash of lightning lit up the sky and a long, rolling rumble of thunder heralded an approaching storm. The snow came quickly, blanketng the land in white, making it look pure again, and covering all evidence of the crimes committed here.

Illya pulled his wool coat tightly about him and walked for a long time in the falling snow. Finally finding shelter in a village; htold them of the massacre on the Kuban steppes.

"Kakoye nam delo , my ne sobaki, kak te, Kazaki . My luchshe bez ikh vid tak ili inache_what do we care, we are not dogs like those Kazaki._ we are better off without their kind anyway." They looked on with indifference...

Illya silently cursed these people and his Soviet masters for their ruthlessness, yet he too was at their mercy, just as the Kаzaki had been. He had no choices in life. He did as he was told, if not, death was the alternative.

They were unmerciful, not caring for him, but he was not yet ready to die.

.

Days later Illya arrived at the closed town of Severomorsk, the main administrative base of the Russian Northern Fleet and having the largest dry dock on the Kola Peninsula. He had changed first into his uniform and reported for duty, still haunted by what had happened, but forced himself to pay attention to the task at hand.

He had gone through his training and was given the rank of junior Lieutenant for his first assignment, which in a way kept him separate from the regular seamen. He was small and had been referred to as a 'pretty boy' and that gave him reason to always watch his back. The pearl-handled switch blade given to him at the orphanage in Moskva by his friend Natasha would be his only weapon but it was one he knew how to use well. *

Life onboard a nuclear submarine was tense as they patrolled the Barents, Norwegian Seas, the Arctic and Atlantic Oceans. They were responsible for the defense of northwestern Russia from the Imperialists of the West.

His turn on duty was tedious as there were times he would monitor radar for any suspicious blips, but the most exciting thing he heard was the song and sounds of whales, so much so that he was eventually he was able to distinguish them apart. That was something he longed to see, bur it was rare that the sub would surface when the pods of whales were nearby.

The endless hours of boredom, playing cards, reading, and fending off unwanted advances with his knife made for a tense existence all at the age of seventeen. There were times he slept fitfully, adding that gruesome sight on the steppes to the memories that haunted him from his childhood; the ghosts of his family, the faces of the walking dead in the concentration camp who would all haunt him in his dreams."

He heard children and women screaming and the desperate voices of the Kazak men who could not defend their people, and the high-pitched cries of the horses as they died.

And yet he dreamed of riding...

Some of his boat mates would laugh at him, waking up and crying out at times in the middle of the night, saying. "They sent us a child instead of a man. We should throw you overboard pretty boy as you are no good to us always crying. There were those who thought him weak fro that reason, and would attempt to rape him, but after a few had been knifed with his switchblade, they finally left him alone.

Illya was nearing the end of his tour of duty when the Moskva anchored near one of the many islands in the White sea, and there they went ashore seeking freshwater and any supplies they could add to their stores.

Silhouetted on a hill near a ruined monastery stood a large chestnut horse, its mane and tail blowing in the frigid wind.

Shaking it's head as Illya stood still watching, it seemed to call to him.

"Fresh meat!" Someone cried out. "Get it!"

"You Kuryakin, you know horses, go catch it and we'll have enough meat to eat for a month!"

Again, he had no choice and his stomach knotted as he approached the magnificent beast, hoping it would flee. He knew instantly it was a Cossack horse...

Yet Illya made a choice, even though he knew he would pay a price for making it. "Yah!" He yelled in a low voice, waving his arms to frighten the animal away. He stood there in the cold, watching it run as his boatmates fired a few shots in desperation, but missed hitting the horse as it disappeared along the horizon.

Watching it run, Illya dreamed yet again of riding Cossack horses...

Some of the men ran up behind him, cursing him out. One delivered a kidney punch to the blond, sending him down to his hands and knees in pain, gasping for breath. Another spat on him. There they left Illya, until he pulled himself up, and turning round, he limped back to the submarine.

Yet he craned his neck one last time, trying to catch a final glimpse of the horse; it was gone, but that meant it was safe. The words of Father Demya uttered so long ago suddenly came to his mind, though Illya Nickovich Kuryakin was no longer a believer, yet somehow they still brought comfort to him.

"The hungry shall eat and shall be satisfied. Those who seek the Lord shall praise Him; their hearts shall live forever. Bless us Lord and Your gifts which we are about to receive. You are blessed and glorified forever."

The gift he had received was as one to a hungry man, seeing a Kazak horse live and run free again...

When Illys was done with his service in the Soviet navy, it would be time to trade off one taskmaster for another. He would finish his training for GRU. After that, his first assignment would take him to the closed city of Gorky, to spy on Russian scientists and make sure they were not sharing secrets with anyone else. From Gorky, it was onto Paris where Victor Karkoff insisted he would continue his education at the Sorbonne...

After that, who knew what life held in store for him...


* ref "The Orphanage" ** ref "Beginnings"

The final paragraph references two stories, "Petrushka" published in the Kuryakin Files #31, and "FIrst Kil.l" Both can be read here on Fanfiction.net under Mlaw