Chapter Two

We stood in the courtyard. Two horses were saddled and bridled—ready for the ride down to Bra¸sov, where Father would transfer to a cart. Gabriel was traveling with him and would stay by his side through the winter, to watch over him.

With our man of all work, Dorin, away at his sister’s wedding celebrations in ¸Tara Româneasc˘a and not due back for some time, Piscul Dracului would be a house of women, save for the stalwart Petru.

Uncle Nicolae and his son, Cezar, had come down from Vârful cu Negur˘a to see Father off. Both wore sheepskin caps, heavy wool-lined gloves, and long fur-trimmed cloaks over their working clothes. Uncle Nicolae was smiling, his bearded face radiating genial confidence. Maybe he was putting it on for Father’s benefit, but I found it reassuring. Uncle Nicolae had always been kind to us girls, ready with jokes and compli-ments, his pockets housing small treats that could be produced 30

anytime one of us was upset or overtaken by shyness. Now that Tati and I were young ladies, he addressed us by our full names, with affectionate courtesy.

“Tatiana, Jenica, you know our home is always open to you and your sisters. Please come to me or Bogdana, or to Cezar, if anything at all is troubling you. We want to help in any way we can.”

“I’ll be overseeing your part of the business, Uncle Teodor,”

said Cezar to our father, who had gone suddenly quiet now that his departure was imminent. At eighteen, Cezar was as tall as his father and a great deal broader, with a short, well-kept dark beard and forceful eyebrows. Our cousin was not a particularly easy person to like, and growing from a boy into a man did not seem to have improved him. I had tried to be a friend to him, thinking I owed him that. When we were little, he had saved my life.