Chapter 15

Author's note: the treatment of fevers Oleg mentions was in fact common practice in the Napoleonic War, and I gleaned the information from a British surgeon's journal dated September 22nd, 1812. It described this very treatment for an officer of the Coldstream Guards at the Seige of Burgos in Spain, suffering from a pernicious fever due to the French musket ball lodged in his right knee. He lived … but lost his leg at the thigh.

****************

Oleg Chernyenko finished his examination of Nikolai and sighed.

"Well?"

Oleg could hear the tremor in Rivka's voice as he looked over at her sitting beside a restless Nikolai, holding his limp, sweat-damp hand in hers, her face white with fear.

"It's typhus all right. Our soldiers are infested with lice and the little beggars are spreading typhus like wildfire." He sighed again. "I'll have him brought down to the hospital, although I don't know what more we can do - "

"No." Rivka's firm voice stopped him. "He'll stay here, Oleg. Tell me what to do and I'll do it, but he'll stay here where I can take care of him."

Oleg blinked in surprise.

"But Rivka … what about you and the baby - "

Rivka's eyes sparked with defiance.

"I had typhus when I was five. It killed my baby brother and very nearly killed me, but I survived. Didn't you tell me once that surviving typhus gave you immunity? And the baby should also be immune?"

"Yes, but - "

"Well then, so that's that." Rivka's jaw set stubbornly. "Nikolai stays here with me. He needs me, Oleg. He needs love, and care, and to know that he is home and safe. It matters to him, and if I'm not here he will die, Oleg, I just know it. Just as I will surely die without him."
Oleg looked at the determination on Rivka's face, and realised that every word she said was true as Rivka loosened her grip on Nikolai's hand and the big soldier muttered her name, blindly seeking her touch in his fever. He saw too, how Nikolai quieted as Rivka crooned softly to him and stroked his brow with feather-light fingers.

Oleg exhaled noisily.

"All right - but he'll need good nursing, Rivka, and I'll tell you now it won't be easy …" He saw her nod of understanding. "He'll need plenty of warmth and as much fluid as you can get into him … water, broth, anything like that. Broth if you can manage it, as he's undernourished, and it will stop him from getting dehydrated too, as well as going some way to replacing salts and so on. Do you understand?" He could see the fear in Rivka's eyes as he began to explain the course of the infection. "He'll be delirious some of the time and pretty well out of it for the rest, probably, although if you're lucky you might get some periods of lucidity. Try and get liquids into him if you can, and try not to let him vomit anything back up - he'll need all the sustenance you can give him."

Rivka listened carefully, her mind now occupied with listing things Nikolai might need, and she immediately felt better, more in control. Oleg continued.

"The high temperature will be the problem. You must try and reduce the fever, Rivka - if it goes too high you know what might happen. Febrile convulsions. You've seen it at the hospital often enough. Typhus can send his temperature as high as a hundred and six … oh, and be prepared for it to last a while … a couple of weeks, even." Oleg didn't add that he was very concerned that Nikolai was already so debilitated and exhausted by lack of nourishment that the fever might just kill him anyway.

He shook off the thought. Rivka wasn't about to let Nikolai die, that was for sure, so he, Oleg Chernyenko, decided that a positive outlook was just the ticket.

"Right. Let's get started. I'll help you strip him out of these long-coms. He'll get too chilled if you let him lie in them, they're too damp. Then I would suggest you start sponging him down, Rivka, his temperature's too high. See if you can drop it a bit, he'll feel better, all right? Then just keep him warm and get those fluids down him whenever possible. I'll call in on my way back to my billet this evening and check up on you both. Oh, and Rivka?"

She looked up.

"Yes?"

"You have to promise me you'll take care of yourself, too. Nikolai wouldn't be very happy if he discovered you were wearing yourself out taking care of him and not looking after yourself and the child. It's his baby too, you know." Oleg gazed into Rivka's velvet brown eyes. His voice was soft with concern. "Does he know yet? Did you tell him?"

The fleeting look on Rivka's face was one of pure joy.

"Yes, Oleg. He knows."

Rivka didn't need to add how Nikolai had felt about becoming a father - it was written all over her face. Oleg smiled.

"Good. It'll be something he can hang on to. Talk to him, Rivka … tell him everything that has been happening, talk about the baby and the plans you have. It doesn't matter if you haven't made any yet, just talk to him. Give him something to fight for, Rivka - he's a soldier, and that's one thing he knows how to do."

Rivka looked down at Nikolai's exhausted features, his cheekbones prominent with illness, his skin glistening with sweat.

My poor, sweet Niko. All you know how to do is fight, and you've already fought too much. Now we're asking you to fight again, my love, and it's so important that you do. But don't worry, my Niko … I'll be here, right beside you every bit of the way, and don't think about anything else but getting well. We need you, Niko. Me and the baby. I know you're tired and sick, but we'll be here with you, I promise.

Nikolai began to cough, the same dry, hacking cough Rivka recognised from their time hiding out in the sewer, the same cough that had worried her when he arrived home. Oleg frowned.

"Hmm. We'll have to watch for pneumonia. His chest seems fairly clear at the moment, but it might be an idea to prop him up a little, so we can try and stop infection settling in his lungs."

Rivka's eyes were wide with concern.

"His lungs …" She hesitated a moment, not too sure how much to tell Oleg, but the hesitation lasted only a second. "His lungs are not strong, Oleg. He … he was badly hurt a few years ago."

Oleg Chernyenko saw the nervousness on her face.

"What happened?"

Rivka couldn't suppress her anger.

"When he came back from Germany … when the war began … he … he was accused of spying for the Germans. The NKVD …" Her voice tailed away, unable to continue.

Oleg's hazel-brown eyes sparked with fury. He might have guessed when he saw Nikolai's steel teeth, the telltale sign of the NKVD's talent for torture. He would bet his last rouble that if he looked at Nikolai's wrists and ankles he would see the faint but telling scars of ligatures … and he knew exactly how they had damaged his lungs with a well-placed length of fencing wire down his nose.

"Bastards!" he hissed. "Nothing but vicious, vindictive bastards!"

Rivka was shocked by the vehemence in the voice of this normally mild-mannered man, and Oleg used his stethoscope once more to check the clarity of Nikolai's breathing. Rivka sat and watched as Oleg 'hemmed' quietly, and when he had finished he pulled down Nikolai's undershirt and sat back.

"His lungs will be scarred badly, I have no doubt. We'll have to watch him closely, but the big fool shouldn't even be on active duty - he's not fit. I'm surprised they let him into the army …"

"He's been in the army all his adult life, Oleg - he knows nothing else! What would he do otherwise, and the country needs soldiers now more than ever before. What else could they do?"

Oleg Chernyenko shook his head. Rivka was right - the Motherland needed Nikolai's unique skills desperately, and the authorities were quite willing to ignore the fact that he wasn't fit enough to cope with the stress. It was a wonder he had survived this long.

"Now then, let's get him comfortable, shall we? There's no use worrying about it now, is there?" Oleg smiled reassuringly at Rivka, trying to control his bitterness towards a state that sent sick men into a terrible war and to hell with the consequences.

Between them they stripped Nikolai of the damp undershirt and longjohns, Rivka murmuring quietly to the sick man as she worked, soothing him as they bared his sweat-slick body. Oleg saw how thin the big sniper was, and noticed the beginning of the macular eruptions on his chest and ribs, small, freckle-like marks from the tiny blood vessels haemorrhaging under the skin. They would scatter across Nikolai's torso as the disease progressed, but with luck they would fade as he recovered … if he recovered.

Rivka piled on more blankets to keep Nikolai warm then set water to boil on her stove, preparing to sponge Nikolai's fevered skin to try and reduce his temperature and make him more comfortable. She made Oleg a cup of hot tea and gave him a small bowl of soup, and the young doctor ate while Rivka sat quietly beside Nikolai, once again clasping his big hand in hers.

When Oleg had finished she helped him on with his coat and turned him towards the door, despite Oleg's protestations that he would help her with Nikolai for a little while longer. Rivka just smiled.

"No, Oleg - you have men waiting for you to save them down at the hospital. Go. I'll see you tonight, and I'll have a bite to eat ready for you." She patted him on the chest in a gesture that made Oleg's heart lurch. "You're a good man, Oleg Chernyenko. You work too hard and too long, and you forget to eat, so if you're making house calls then the least I can do is feed you."

Oleg shook his head in amazement.

"Nikolai is a lucky man, Rivka Velonina. A lucky, lucky man."

Rivka tilted her chin and shook her head.

"No, Oleg. It's me. I'm the lucky one. Niko is a wonderful man and he's going to make a wonderful father, too, I just know it." She smiled. "Anyway, you have Anna. She's a nice girl, Oleg. She's capable and kind, and a good cook, too!"

Oleg smiled shyly at the thought of Anna Svenskaya's beautiful grey eyes, and the fall of her strawberry blonde hair as she loosened it from her nurse's cap. He loved her very much, although she didn't know it yet.

But he didn't linger on the thought - he had work to do.

"I'll call in as soon as I finish work, and you know where I am if you need me. You just have to come and fetch me, Rivka, you know that."

Rivka nodded silently. Oleg would come if Nikolai's condition changed, and she was immensely touched by his concern. She watched as he left, Oleg shutting the door quietly behind him so as not to disturb Nikolai, and then turned her mind back to the job in hand.

For a moment she felt nothing but sheer panic.

Here she was in a ruined, desperate city, alone and pregnant, with a seriously ill man on her hands … a man who was relying on her to keep him alive. But not once did the thought of sending him down to the hospital cross her mind, for she knew that a man as sick as her beloved Niko would have been left in a quiet room to die peacefully - Oleg and his staff could not spare the time for the intensive nursing that an acute bout of typhus required. She didn't blame Oleg - she knew how difficult such decisions were, and had seen it done many times, but Niko would do better at home where he knew he was loved and cared for.

The water boiling on the stove distracted her, and she left Nikolai for a few minutes to decant some of the fluid into a bowl where she cooled it a little and gathered up her flannel. Then, with the gentlest touch, she slowly washed the sweat from his body, taking great care around his wounded arm and the various raw welts on his wasted frame. As she worked she was relieved to see the shivering ease as his temperature came down to a more manageable level, and he seemed less restless.

She would have dearly loved to have put him back into warm underclothes but Nikolai only had one set and they were damp with sweat, so she wrapped him loosely in the softest of her blankets and then covered him with warm quilts. Leaving him to rest she washed his underclothes and left them in front of the stove to dry, and then she took his uniform outside and burnt it.

When she unpacked his kitbag she burst into tears.

There, tucked in a pocket, were her letters. Well-thumbed and grubby, they were carefully wrapped around with an old piece of string. Each of them had obviously been read time and time again, and she had a fleeting vision of Nikolai sitting in a dugout in the middle of a snowstorm, oblivious to the destruction around him, hungrily reading every word. Getting herself under control she reached up and removed her last letter to him from behind her old clock, still unopened, and slipped it in beside the rest. He would read it when he was well, she decided, and put the little bundle in the drawer of her bedside table, where they lay alongside her own bundle of letters from Nikolai.

"Rivka … Rivka, I'm thirsty …"

Nikolai's voice distracted her. He sounded lucid, and when she sat beside him she knew by the look in his eyes that he recognised her. He tried to shift himself into a more comfortable position, but the coughing began once more, this time deeper and harsher.

Rivka slipped onto the bed beside him and helped him move, cradling him in her arms as he tried to turn onto his side to ease the cough.

"Gently, now … that's it … don't worry, Niko, it's going to be fine …"

She kissed his brow, still hot with fever, and he relaxed a little.

"My chest … hurts so much …"

Rivka knew this to be one of the symptoms of the disease and held him tight, letting her presence warm him and ease his discomfort.

"I know, love. I wish I could take it away for you, but I can't. But don't worry … it'll disappear as you get well, I promise …"

She held him for a few minutes as the coughing subsided, then brought a cup of water, easing a few drops down his parched throat. She saw him swallow and let him have a little more which he drank greedily. Good, she thought. It's a start …

"Now then, Niko, can you do something for me?" She saw him nod weakly. "Can you take a little mouthful of broth? You need a bit of food in you, love."

She saw the hesitation in his eyes - all he wanted to do was sleep, she knew, but she had to try anyway.

"Come on now, Niko - you're too thin, and how are you going to have the energy to keep up with your son when he's born if you don't eat?"

The merest ghost of a smile crept onto his face.

"It … it's not a dream then?" His voice was so low she could hardly hear him. "I thought … I thought I was dreaming …"

Rivka squeezed his hand.

"No, love. The baby's real, I promise. So, you big oaf, you have to eat! We need you, Niko, the baby and I. Don't you dare die on us, do you hear me?" Her voice broke as she said the words, but Nikolai didn't notice.

"Nah. I won't … I won't die, Rivka … you won't let me …"

His weak chuckle dissolved into deep, wracking coughs that crippled him with pain. Rivka held him to her once more, supporting him until the paroxysm faded, and then she helped him relax back into the soft pillows and tried to get some broth into him.

"Not hungry …"

Rivka wasn't about to take 'no' for an answer.

"You? Nikolai Koulikov? The man who could probably eat a whole cow at one sitting and still want dessert? No, my Niko - this is just the sickness talking, and you need to keep your strength up, my love. So come on … one little mouthful, just for me …"

He managed three small spoonfuls, and Rivka couldn't believe how thrilled she was. One small triumph for the day.

Putting the bowl aside she took off her shoes and slipped under the quilts beside him, Nikolai unconsciously relaxing back into her arms. He was still a little shivery and she rubbed his chest through the blankets, soothing him.

"Better?" She kissed his cheek.

Nikolai turned his head into the hollow of her shoulder and made a small, almost indefinable sound of exhaustion.

"Mmm. Head hurts … feel … feel bloody awful …"

Rivka felt him shift, knowing his joints were sore and his chest was hurting, and held him to her using her body warmth to ease his aches and pains.

"Rivka … tell me … tell me more … about our baby …" His whisper betrayed his tiredness and how desperately sick he was, but he needed to hear the sound of her voice.

Rivka smiled and kissed him once more, glad of his interest. She had seen too many seriously ill men give up and die very quickly, slipping into oblivion quietly and with no fuss. She needed Nikolai to want to live … to fight for survival this one last time.

"All right, love, although there really isn't much to tell. I'm about four and a half months gone, Oleg reckons, which means our baby will be born at the end of July or the beginning of August. I'm sure it will be a boy, Niko … I just know it. I like to think we made him that very first night we made love … remember? You were so wonderful … so gentle, and kind, and so … so … beautiful." She lay quietly for a moment, mind full of memories of that night when she discovered how wonderful being loved by a man could be, and had never guessed that as their bodies strove in the lamplight and Nikolai arched above her, filling her with his seed, that he was giving her that most precious of gifts … a child. Her thoughts were cut short by a gentle snort of humour from Nikolai.

"Me … beautiful … nah …" He shivered. "So cold …"

Rivka tucked the quilts around him and snuggled closer to his big, undernourished frame.

"Yes, my Niko - beautiful. Don't argue with me now, because I know best!" She rubbed his chest once more and was touched to feel his hand creep out from the blankets and clasp hers, fingers linking, Nikolai taking great comfort in her love for him. "Our son will be beautiful, too, Niko. Tall, and handsome, just like his Papa."

Sleep was creeping up on Nikolai, his body beginning to relax, but his mind was full of thoughts of the baby, and he couldn't let go.

"Not … not soldier, though … not like me … teacher … doc … doctor … lawyer … not soldier … never …"

Rivka listened as his breathing, shallow and fevered as it was, deepened as he slipped into an uneasy slumber. Unwilling to disturb him, she made herself comfortable and let her head rest on the pillow, knowing that any sleep he could get would pay dividends in the days to come.

His head lay tucked into her shoulder and she could feel the heat radiating from his back and shoulders as he rested against her, and Rivka was suddenly struck by how terribly vulnerable he was. Her hand was held tightly in his against his chest, Nikolai clinging in his delirium to the only gentleness he had ever really known. He muttered restlessly, but settled instantly as Rivka used her other hand to tease back the damp curls on his brow, and she thought that maybe he would pass by the worst of the disease - he had managed to eat a little and was lucid, at least for a little while, so perhaps Oleg was wrong. Perhaps the typhus would not strike Nikolai as hard as it did others.

Heartened by Nikolai's positive response and his quiet, regular breathing, Rivka felt better. Yes, she thought, he'll do well, he's big and strong, and tough - my Niko can do anything he puts his mind to.

Settling down in the big bed and protectively cradling Nikolai's fevered body, she began to doze.

**********************

"NOOOO!!!"

Rivka awoke with a start, shocked into consciousness by Nikolai's hoarse yell.

His weakened body fought against the restraints of the blankets, the material tangling around his limbs, and Rivka was hard-put in her newly-awake state to hold onto him. She could feel the normally powerful muscles of his shoulders and chest trembling with effort, and his strong arms clutched desperately at the blankets.

"Niko! Niko, love, calm down … please, it's all right, I'm here … shhhh …"

But the ound of her voice just aroused a dreadful, morbid fear in the big soldier, his blue eyes wide and terrified in his sweat-sheened face.

"Rivka!!! Please, Rivka … don't … don't go into the dark … you have … you have to take care of the baby … Oh God, Rivka … stay away!! Don't touch her, you bastards!!!"

Rivka was mystified. She battled to hang onto him, his brawny frame still strong enough to fight against whatever he imagined was threatening them both, but slowly he began to relax, trembling, his chest heaving with effort and his face grimacing with the pain as he tried to catch his breath. Rivka whispered words of love in hopes of calming him, and his head dropped back onto her shoulder, flushed with fever and eyes still wide with fear.

"What is it, Niko … don't worry … I'm all right and so is our baby … whoever it is they can't hurt you, I promise … I won't let them, Niko … I love you, my sweet … always …"

After long moments, Nikolai's eyes closed and his muscles slackened as he rested back into the safety of Rivka's grasp. He swallowed painfully, Rivka shocked at the fear in him … her Nikolai, who was afraid of nothing and no one.

"Rivka … they're coming … please, my lady … stay in the light … light a candle, don't go … don't leave me … please, Rivka … please …"

She stroked his face, hoping to soothe him.

"Who, love? Who can hurt us? We're safe … you're safe here, with me …"

Azure eyes snapped open and gazed at her with such clarity that she flinched.

"It hurts … hurts so much … I won't … I won't let them find you … stay in the light, Rivka … please … keep safe for me …"

And then Rivka knew.

Nikolai was reliving his torture at the hands of the NKVD, and what was worse, he was terrified that the men who had taken him to the brink of death were coming to harm her and the baby.

"Oh, my Nikolushka …" She hugged him close, rocking him gently, her soft kisses settling on the drawn, fever-slick features of this man she loved so deeply.

When he finally quieted and drifted into a restless, muttering sleep she slipped from the bed and wearily began to heat the water once more. That done, she stripped the sweat-drenched blanket from his shivering body and replaced it with another, then she patiently and carefully washed Nikolai's lean, long-boned frame and soothed his fever. She tenderly dried his skin and wrapped him once more in warm dry blankets and covered him with the quilts.

Washing the soaked blanket she hung it alongside his underclothes to dry, set the broth to heat on the stove, and made herself a mug of tea while she watched over Nikolai with eyes filled with fear. For the very first time since Nikolai's return she doubted her capabilities. What if she couldn't help him? What if he deteriorated … even contracted pneumonia? Oleg had said that was a real possibility, and she didn't know if Nikolai had anything left in his battered, starved body to fight both typhus and pneumonia. He would die, she knew it. A wave of nausea swept through her, and she swallowed bile. No, no, she couldn't start thinking like that. Nikolai wouldn't give up so easily, and she shouldn't even be doubting him, knowing that he wanted to be with her and their child so much. She could hear his voice in her mind.

Now then, Rivka - don't be daft! Of course I won't leave you, woman! I know I'm nothing but a big fool of a dumkop, but I love you and being with you is too important to me to think of leaving …

She smiled through her sudden tears. She was underestimating the big, stubborn ox! What had Oleg said … oh yes! Good nursing was the answer. That and Nikolai's knowledge of her presence and her love would give him something to fight for - and if Nikolai could fight, so could she! She couldn't start to doubt her capabilities, because only she could keep him alive, she was sure.

But her reverie was interrupted by Nikolai's soft cough, and with renewed energy she moved to sit beside him, helping him turn onto his side to ease the congestion now beginning in his lungs. Lifting his head she slipped another pillow underneath so he would be more comfortable.

Moments later he choked. The coughs turned to huge, gasping heaves, and Rivka held him, rubbing his back to soothe him as she slid a bowl beside his head. But there was nothing in his stomach to bring up, and the dry retching made her wince.

When it finally subsided he was gasping for air, and his eyes flickered open to find Rivka sitting beside him, the comfort of her hand rubbing his aching back and ribs easing the dreadful pain in his chest.

"Sorry …to be … so much trouble …" The words were a harsh whisper.

Rivka scowled at him in mock anger.

"Don't be silly, you big fool!" Her tone softened. "This is your home, Niko - where else should you be when you're sick? It's right that you should be with someone who loves you and will take care of you, so stop apologising!"

Nikolai squinted, the dim light of the lamp making his head hurt, but he was relieved that the dreadful images he vaguely remembered from his time of imprisonment had gone for now. He shuddered. He didn't want to remember, but whatever was wrong with him wouldn't let him forget. But delicious coolness suddenly drove the terrible memories from him as Rivka wiped his face with a damp cloth, and his eyes closed in sheer pleasure.

"Feels good …"

Rivka smiled tenderly. The fever had lessened, and it seemed her sponging of his body did bring down his temperature, even though it was only for a few hours. While he was awake and lucid she went through the same routine of trying to get water and broth into him, but although he managed a sip or two of water, the broth was too much for his stomach. As the retching eased he lay back in her arms, gasping with exhaustion and shame. Rivka remembered Nikolai telling her how much he loathed being sick, and ill as he was he stammered apologies while swallowing bile in his throat, trying desperately not to lose what little he had left in his stomach. Rivka shushed him and coaxed a little more water into him, freshening the rancid taste in his mouth.

"Urgh! I hate … hate throwing up …"

Rivka held him tight, feeling the effort it took for him to breathe.

"My poor Niko! So sick, my love … never mind. As long as you keep going, Nikolai, and promise me you'll try your best to get better, all right?"

"Mm-hmm. So … so tired, Rivka …" Nikolai was drowsy, despite the pain in his chest and joints. "Not feeling … too good … what … what's wrong … with me …"

Rivka was instantly in a quandary. Should she tell him or not? If Nikolai knew he had typhus he would worry himself into an early grave, she feared, thinking he would give the disease to her and the child she carried. Her immunity would mean nothing to him, even though the disease was only passed on by lice and he was well past the infectious stage anyway. She decided to be vague.

"You've picked up a chest infection, love - Oleg says you need to rest and get well, and you're running a dreadful fever. So you must try and get some food in you and drink plenty of fluids, and you're not to worry about anything, d'you hear?"

"I … hear you …" He lay quietly for a few moments, and Rivka thought he had dropped off to sleep when he spoke again. "Rivka … you … supposed to rest too … the baby … you shouldn't … shouldn't work so hard …"

Rivka was charmed by his concern despite her fear for him. She looked at her old clock and was surprised to see it was late afternoon, and the daylight would be almost gone. She turned back to Nikolai, the big man curled on his side under the quilts, his breathing shallow and harsh as congestion began to settle in his lungs.

The congestion was what she feared most of all. If it turned to pneumonia … she shook off the feeling of dread pervading her mind. That sort of defeatist attitude would not do at all, she decided. She noticed Nikolai watching her, his eyes dull with fatigue and fever, and on impulse she leaned forward and kissed him.

"I've slept beside you all afternoon, Niko, and I'm feeling quite rested thank you very much!" Which was a lie, she knew, as she felt worn out with worry. But she put on a soft, reassuring smile, and squeezed his hand. "Now, do you think you could drink a little more water?"

Nikolai nodded tiredly, wincing as the movement sent bolts of pain through his head, but for Rivka he would try. He wished she would rest. He worried about her doing too much, he worried about the baby and he worried that he was too ill to help her. He suspected he was sicker than Rivka would admit to him, but he felt too rotten to say anything. Managing to swallow the cold, sweet liquid he sighed, feeling the trickle down his throat into his chest and belly, cooling the aching heat of the fever in his frame.

Rivka watched him swallow with satisfaction but was disturbed by the sudden slam of the trapdoor outside and a gentle tap sounded on the ancient oak door.

Oleg.

Calling to him to come in, she was relieved to see Anna Svenskaya follow him into the room, the young nurse carrying a couple of blankets and what looked like clothing.

While Oleg checked to see how Nikolai was doing, Anna handed Rivka the two old but warm blankets and two sets of thermal underwear. Rivka was delighted.

"They've been disinfected and boil-washed, Rivka, but you have to repair the holes … you understand?" Anna ducked her head shyly.

Rivka understood very quickly. The underclothes had come from dead men, and probably had a bullet-hole or two in them. She nodded and hugged the young nurse.

"Thank you. He needs them Anna …" Her eyes glistened with tears after a long, fraught day. "He's so sick, I don't …" Rivka couldn't continue.

Anna saw the desperate concern in her friend.

"Come, Rivka - sit down and I'll make some tea. Have you eaten today?" She saw Rivka shake her head as her eyes strayed back to Nikolai, now lying complacent under Oleg's gentle care. "Now that won't do at all!" Anna's voice was warm. "Nikolai will be upset if you don't eat, and he doesn't need to worry about you while he's ill, so come on - get this down you. You're eating for two now, you know!" Anna plumped a bowl of soup and some bread in front of Rivka and followed it with a mug of hot tea.

Rivka did as she was told and ate, watching Oleg sitting beside Nikolai on the bed, the young doctor talking quietly to the big sniper and Nikolai trying valiantly to answer as well as he could. After changing the dressing on the arm wound, Oleg checked his chest meticulously, Nikolai coughing as he was gently leaned forward so the stethoscope could sound out his lungs. Her chest tightened as she saw Oleg's handsome face become set with concern as he helped Nikolai rest back onto the pillows. Patting Nikolai reassuringly on the shoulder, he tucked quilts around the sick sniper and joined Anna and Rivka at the table.

"The bullet wound's looking fairly clean and the inflammation has reduced, which is a good sign, but his lungs are congested." He raised a hand to stop Rivka's panic-stricken questioning. "Now I was expecting it Rivka, so don't get yourself in a flutter! It happens with typhus, you can't avoid it. More pillows, and more fluids, that's what's needed. Oh, and I'd get him into those underclothes and holes be damned -he's cold." He smiled unexpectedly, the humour lighting up his dark hazel eyes. "He's doing as well as I expected, Rivka - he's holding his own. You've brought his temperature down, he's lucid - well, lucid enough to tell me how bloody awful he feels - and he's as worried as hell about you, Rivka. I can't say as I blame him, either. When we get him comfortable Anna and I will expect you to get some sleep, do you hear?"

Rivka, suitably chastened, nodded.

"Besides," Oleg continued, grinning. "I have every intention of being there when this baby arrives, as no doubt I'll have a panic-stricken father on my hands and he'll be absolutely no use at all." His face became sombre. "I've seen too much death, Rivka - it will do us all good to see a new life come into the world for a change, and I want both you and Nikolai to be fit and healthy when the little one makes an appearance. So, woman, get some rest!"

"That's right … you … you tell her … she never … never listens to me …" Nikolai's rasping, breathless words made Rivka smile. She came to sit beside him on the bed and rubbed his back as he lay once more on his side, knowing her touch soothed him.

"All right, you big fool - we'll get you into warm underclothes, and if you can manage a little more water we'll snuggle up and you, me and our baby can get some sleep. How does that sound?"

For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, Nikolai grinned a small, heart-felt, lop-sided grin.

"Good … sounds good …" He gave her a tired wink. "Get naked, woman …"

Rivka blushed.

"Nikolai Koulikov! You … you … " She blustered happily, crimson with embarrassment. "Oh, for goodness sake! Whatever am I going to do with you, you klotz!"

"Whatever you like … I'm … I'm game, Rivka … but be gentle with me … I'm a sick man …"

Rivka smiled through sudden tears. He was trying to reassure her, telling her he was doing his best to keep going. Nikolai coughed harshly, the phlegm in his lungs and oesophagus making it difficult for him to catch his breath.

A sudden thought sparked through her mind, and Rivka mentally sifted through her supplies on her depleted shelves. Eucalyptus oil was a common enough treatment for coughs and colds if dripped onto pillows, the pungent fumes clearing congested chests and sinuses, and she had a small stoppered bottle of the stuff somewhere. It was very old and may have lost its potency, but it would be worth a try. There were other old remedies she half-remembered, some of which might help Nikolai's laboured breathing.

Oleg and Anna finished their tea and between the three of them they quickly got Nikolai into clean longjohns and undershirt, the big sniper frustrated at his inability to help. But his slight shiver stopped almost immediately and he sighed at the pleasure of the added warmth even though his skin was burning with fever.

Shrugging into his coat, Oleg told Rivka he would be in his room for the rest of the night if she needed him, and he would call in on his way to work in the morning. By the time Oleg and Anna had left and shut the trapdoor behind them, Rivka was rummaging around on her shelves looking for the Eucalyptus. Within minutes she had found the small, brown bottle and discovered it was still half-full of the aromatic oil. It was old, but the stuff was still potent, as she discovered when taking a sniff. Eyes watering at the sting of the strong aroma, she put two drops on Nikolai's top pillow, the menthol-like fumes filling the room with a fresh, cleansing scent.

Nikolai grimaced for a moment or two, but he soon discovered the stuff actually eased the congestion in his chest and he breathed easier. Rivka was delighted, and tried hard to remember what her Aunt Lou had given her when she was ill as a small child. Elderberry cordial!! That was it! Aunt Lou made it herself with brandy added, and it had helped enormously. Rivka didn't have any elderberry cordial, but she did have blackcurrant jelly. Perhaps that would do! Checking her supplies, she discovered she had three small jars left, one of which was already open and had been half-used. Fervently hoping that she had enough, she lifted down the opened jar and dropped a spoonful of the sweet, darkly-red jelly into hot water. It melted quickly and the resulting mug of fruit-laden liquid goodness smelled wonderful.
Settling herself beside Nikolai on the bed, she raised the mug to his chapped, dry lips.

"Right, Niko … try this. It's sweet and hot and fruity, and it's good for you."

Nikolai eyed her doubtfully, too exhausted to object as he lay propped up on every pillow Rivka possessed.

"What … what's this?"

Rivka kissed him on the end of his nose.

"Blackcurrant jelly in hot water. Full of vitamins and energy, just what you need. And it shouldn't upset your stomach. Come on Niko … try it, just for me …"

Nikolai ached everywhere. His eyes hurt, his limbs hurt, his chest was on fire … even his hair hurt, he decided. His stomach was constantly queasy, his throat was dry and sore and every breath he took was an effort, although that stuff Rivka had put on his pillow was helping to ease his lungs considerably. But the sweet, fruity scent of the liquid in the mug did smell good. He knew instinctively that if he didn't take any sustenance or fluids, whatever was wrong with him would kill him. He took a tentative sip.

Liquid heaven trickled into his parched mouth. The sweet heat of the blackcurrants sent spurts of intense flavour over starved tastebuds, and he swallowed slowly, allowing the soothing warmth to ease the rasping pain in his throat.

"'S tasty … like more …" Nikolai muttered wearily, eyes closed as he savoured the aftertaste of the fruit.

Rivka settled down beside him, holding the mug so Nikolai could drink a little more of the mixture. He took the next mouthful eagerly, and she was heartened to see his hand lift unsteadily to hold the mug. It was the first time he had shown interest in any form of food or drink since the previous night.

"Easy now, Niko … take your time … that's it, slowly love …"

For the next thirty minutes Rivka sat quietly beside Nikolai as he slowly drank the half mugful of the makeshift cordial. He took his time, exhausted as he was, but he was determined to finish it for both their sakes as the fluid went a little way towards replenishing his badly-depleted energy levels.

Finally finished, he sank back into the pillows, sleepy and achy but feeling better. Rivka slipped beneath the quilt once more and snuggled up to him, hearing the little murmur of comfort he gave as her arms wrapped around his food-starved frame. She felt his hand once more grasp hers and hold it to his chest and within moments he was fast asleep.

Rivka was worn out. The worry and fear for Nikolai was taking its toll, but she was reassured as she listened to his breathing which seemed easier and slightly less congested. If only he could keep going, if only the fever would break … if only he was fit and well and back to his old, earthy, humorous self. She kissed his shirt-clad shoulder and hugged him gently, feeling him shift unconsciously further into her grasp. Spooned behind him, Rivka Velonina dropped into a deep and dreamless sleep.

*******************

The respite lasted barely three hours.

Rivka was woken by Nikolai's yells of fear, his big body shuddering in terror as nightmares stalked the dark recesses of his fevered mind. Once more she stripped him and sponged his sweat-sheened body, changing him into warm, dry clothing.

But this time it took him longer to recover. His temperature took a while to come down, and he wasn't quite as responsive as he had been before. But to Rivka's relief he managed more water and another half mugful of cordial, and he also had enough fluid in him to use the bedpan, an encouraging sign, Rivka decided.

Later that night, as he slept fitfully in her arms and muttered her name, Rivka wept. He called for her to be safe, to take care of the baby. He was terrified she would go into 'the dark', whatever that meant, and his relief was indescribable when he awoke and discovered her beside him. Wiping her tears away, she kissed him into slumber and held him tight.

It was then she realised that if the fever didn't break Nikolai would probably die.

*******************

Long, endless hours turned into numbing, desperate days.

Nikolai swung between exhausted, energy-sapping lucidity and a terrible, soul-shattering delirium, the nightmares stalking unhindered in the deep recesses of his fevered mind. Rivka would hold him in her arms and soothe him until he lapsed into restless sleep, his weakened body lying trembling against her.

The typhus raged through his wasted frame and no matter how often Rivka cooled him down and cajoled and nagged until he swallowed a precious mouthful of water or cordial, the fever didn't break.

For Rivka the days turned into a blur. She washed clothes and bedding endlessly, trying to dry underclothes as quickly as she could so Nikolai could be changed from sweat-soaked longjohns and undershirt into something warm and dry. When she wasn't washing she was trying to get him to drink fluids, a thankless task as he was so ill he couldn't even face a mouthful of water most of the time. The only thing he managed to take on a regular basis and not vomit back up was the blackcurrant cordial. Once or twice he kept down a spoonful or two of soup, but that was rare. He grew thinner by the day.

Sleep never lasted more than a couple of hours as Nikolai woke raving, the fever spiking high and sending him spiralling into dreadful nightmares. And so Rivka would calm him, then begin the thankless task once more of stripping him, sponging his body until his temperature dropped, than dressing him in fresh underclothes. After a difficult hour spent getting him to drink, she would crawl wearily into bed beside him in the dark of the night and hold his shivering, pitifully wasted body close, knowing her presence was the only thing that helped.

It was then, when the despair and loneliness were at their worst, that she would begin to talk and Nikolai, lying safe and secure in her arms, would listen. Her voice was soft and comforting, the words weaving images of sunlit summer meadows and the laughter of a child filling his tired heart with love.

She spoke of how it would be when the war was over and they were together … a family. She spoke of their son growing tall and strong like his Papa, and he would be bright and healthy and clear-eyed, the world spread out before him in a golden future. She teased Nikolai, saying that she hoped he could change a diaper and telling him that he would have lots of sleepless nights when the child was teething. Sometimes she would hear Nikolai murmur in amusement, despite his illness. Occasionally he had enough strength to ask what they would call the child, and Rivka knew he needed her to talk more, to give him strength to carry on … to give him hope. So she would babble on about names, from the ridiculous to the sublime, and she would feel Nikolai relax quietly as his mind drifted into sleep soothed by the vision of a dark-haired, blue-eyed boy laughing with pleasure in dappled sunlight.

Oleg Chernyenko feared for them both.

He took to visiting several times a day, Anna in turn beginning to worry for the young doctor as he spent every spare moment caring for his friends. More than once he quietly let himself into the cellar to find Nikolai slumbering fitfully in the big bed and Rivka sound asleep in Nikolai's big old chair, head on her arms and a forgotten mug of tea sitting cooling beside her. Oleg would cover her with a blanket and let her sleep while he checked on Nikolai, the sick man often waking with Rivka's name on his lips.

Oleg would reassure him and Nikolai lay quietly, eyes fixed on Rivka as she slept while Oleg checked him over. But no matter how quiet Oleg was Rivka always sensed his presence and woke, bleary-eyed and disorientated. Levering herself to her feet despite Oleg's protests, she would make tea and come to sit beside Nikolai as she sipped the hot liquid, her presence comforting as Oleg continued his examination.

Rivka occasionally had to endure Oleg's poking and prodding and tutting, his concern for her and the child turning him into a gentle bully. Then he would chastise her for not getting enough sleep and not eating regularly, and she would pat him on the arm and tell him he was worrying too much. Nikolai was all that mattered … she and the child were fine, she said. Not convinced, Oleg would frown and make her rest, but as soon as he was gone she rose and sat beside Nikolai, holding his hand and giving him what comfort she could.

But inevitably Nikolai grew weaker. He spoke less and less, and he just seemed content to listen to Rivka as she talked quietly, and he lay, eyes closed and chest heaving with effort. Rivka was feeling him slip away from her, becoming distant and distracted. The bouts of fever increasingly wracked his body and it became more and more difficult for her to reduce his temperature.

Each visit from Oleg saw her become more desperate, more frightened, and Oleg knew there was nothing he could do. If Nikolai was to live the fever had to break and after eight days, Oleg thought, Nikolai couldn't survive.

On the evening of that eighth day he sat beside Nikolai Koulikov and was shocked at the condition of the big man, debilitated by disease and malnutrition. Rivka had propped him on rolled, soft blankets as the pressure on Nikolai's hipbones was beginning to cause bedsores, and there was no give in the skin stretched tightly over his big-boned frame. His skin was pale and sickly under the growth of stubble on his cheeks, Rivka reluctant to shave him in case he became distressed.

Rivka was back in her accustomed place on the bed beside Nikolai, listening to the harsh, panting breathing. Oleg knew that only her determination and love had kept him alive until now, but even Rivka's faith could help no longer.

"Oleg?" Her voice shook.

Oleg Chernyenko straightened from listening to the weak breaths in the deep chest of the big sniper and shook his head. God, how could he tell her?

"I …" His voice broke.

Rivka put a hand over her mouth to hold back the sob.

"No!! No, Oleg, he can't!!! He's not going to die, I can't let him!! I won't let him!!"

"Rivka - "

"No, Oleg!!" Rivka was shaking now, her face white with fear. "He's strong … he's a soldier Oleg, he's fighting, I just know it! Tell me what else I can do … please, Oleg! Please! I need to - "

"Rivka!" Oleg caught hold of her hand, wincing as her fingers dug convulsively into his skin as she grasped hold of him. "Rivka … you can't do anything more, and neither can I. He's running a temperature of a hundred and five, and it's not going down - the fever's peaking, and even if it breaks I can't guarantee he'll survive it. He's worn out, Rivka … his body's giving up … he's fought enough, don't you think?"

Earnest hazel-brown eyes gazed at her with helpless compassion. Rivka couldn't believe her ears.

Oleg was telling her to let Nikolai die.

Anger consumed her, ripping through her in all-enveloping waves, her velvet brown eyes glowing with fury, and she tore her hand from Oleg's in disgust.

"You want him to die!!! You … you … coward, Oleg Chernyenko!! This isn't the hospital!! It's easier for you to let him die, isn't it?? You've become so used to letting patients die that it's nothing to you any more!!" She was shaking with fury, her hands now holding Nikolai's limp, fevered hand in her lap.

Oleg winced at her words. He knew she was lashing out in her fear and anguish, but the words still hurt. Perhaps she was right, he thought. Perhaps he wasn't willing to fight as hard as Nikolai and Rivka, and the thought sobered him. He was a coward. But what could he do? What little he could do had already been done, and nothing had really helped in the long run. If the fever didn't break, then Nikolai would die, that was certain.

Then a thought struck him from the deep recesses of his mind. The fever … if the fever didn't break … his lips set in renewed determination. He had an idea.

"Rivka … are you willing to take a chance?" His eyes sparked purposefully.

Studying him closely, anger and terror still rife in her, Rivka saw something new … something that looked suspiciously like hope.

"What? What do you mean? Take a chance on what?"

Oleg smiled slowly.

"I have an idea - I'll warn you now, it's chancy. It's a case of kill or cure, Rivka, if you're willing to take the risk, but … but it might just work. And if it doesn't, then …"

"… at least we've tried." Rivka finished the sentence, her voice soft now, her anger forgotten. "What do you want to do?"

Oleg's mind was clicking over, thinking out how this was to be done.

"It's a trick from the Napoleonic Wars, Rivka, for men who ran raging fevers. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't, but I think it's worth a try. Stay here and look after Nikolai - I'll be back in a few minutes."

Now Rivka was confused.

"Where - "

"I'm going to get Corporal Nikitin and those scruffy buggers of mechanics of his. They've been helping you out while Nikolai's been away, isn't that right?"

Rivka remembered the little corporal's kindness, both he and his men fetching water for her and fixing the bullet holes in her stove in return for the odd bowl of soup, and they had carried on trying to help throughout Nikolai's illness. But Rivka couldn't even begin to think what they could do in the present circumstances.

"Yes, but - "

"Don't worry about it - but if you can get out the bath tub while I'm gone and find a few clean towels and blankets that would help a lot." Oleg grinned, the idea taking root now. "Be back soon!"

A bewildered Rivka just nodded, her heart thumping in her chest as she watched Oleg disappear out into the cold night. Gripping Nikolai's hand tightly she leaned down to kiss his cheek, the half-conscious man sensing her presence. She brushed a curl back from his forehead and smiled.

"Be strong for me, my Niko … Oleg has an idea, and all I want you to do is try and fight a little longer. We need you, Niko, the baby and I, so you'd better fight hard, do you hear me?" She was heartened to see a small smile crease his mobile lips, parched and cracked as they were. He had heard her and understood her words. "Good. I know it's hard, love, but you can do it. You're a big, rough, tough soldier, and you're not going to give up so easily, now are you?" She placed another kiss on his dry lips. "I love you, my Niko. Don't leave me."

To her astonishment, she heard a soft whisper of words.

"I … I won't leave … Love you … too …"

Kissing him once more, she tucked the quilts tightly around him and went to haul out her old tub.

********************

Oleg returned fifteen minutes later with Nikitin and four of his men in tow, and they filed into the cellar, all of them trying to be quiet so as not to disturb the 'Missus' Major', as Lubov always called him. Rivka made them all tea while Oleg filled them in on his plan, Anna beside him. She had seen him running down to the motor pool as she finished her shift and was walking back to her billet, and Oleg had spotted her and asked her to help. She had agreed willingly, glad to be able to do something for Rivka and Nikolai at last.

"Right, I need you three men to ferry buckets of water from the pump. Nikitin, I want you and Lubov to give me a hand to lift the Major into the tub - he's a big fellow, and I don't want Mrs Velonina straining herself - "

"Her bein' in the fambly way, like." Nikitin grinned at Oleg's astonishment and Rivka's sudden pink blush. "Gawd Almighty, Missus - it's bloody obvious! Me old Mum had fourteen of a fambly, and I was the oldest - I can always tell when a lady's in the fambly way. You've got that look about you!" Nikitin looked even more rat-like as his grin widened, the flaps of his pilotka pulled down over his ears. He patted Rivka clumsily on the shoulder. "It makes a lady look something wonderful, so it does. All pink and pretty." His face sobered as he looked over at Nikolai. "We can't have the little one growin' up without a Daddy. Wouldn't be right. I grew up without a Daddy - all of us did, although a lot of us had different dads - me old Mum couldn't resist a handsome face, bless her." His face became dreamy for a second. "I miss me old Mum."

Rivka caught up Nikitin's grubby, callused hand and squeezed it in gratitude.

"I'm sure she'd be very proud of you, Corporal."

Nikitin reddened and looked at his boots.

"Well … let's get on with the job, shall we? We can't keep the Major waiting - besides, maybe when he's feelin' better the Missus could make us another cake." He smiled, oddly shy in the lamplight.

Rivka smiled back through her tears, astonished at the kindness of the rough bunch of soldiers standing before her.

"Don't worry, Corporal - I'll make you two cakes, I promise."

Oleg handed water buckets to three of the mechanics and sent them off up the street to fetch water, and then prepared to lift Nikolai into the waiting tub. Rivka and Anna sorted out dry towels and some clean underclothes, putting the lot into the warming oven at the base of her stove. By the time Oleg had finished, Nikolai would need warming up very quickly indeed.

The first bucket of cold water arrived, and Oleg took Rivka aside for a moment.

"This might not work Rivka, you know that don't you?"

Rivka's eyes widened at the thought, but nodded.

"I know, Oleg. But what about his chest? The congestion? Couldn't he catch pneumonia - "

Oleg shushed her.

"His chest has cleared quite a bit, or else I wouldn't even have thought of trying this. It's the fever that's killing him. What I am concerned about is his heart. So far it's been strong … God knows how, but it has. But the shock, Rivka …" He sighed. "I don't know if he can tolerate it. But I do know that if we don't try, he'll die. That's absolutely certain."

Rivka paled, but nodded her assent.
Oleg, satisfied that Rivka understood the consequences, turned to the job in hand. He directed Nikitin and Lubov to help him lift Nikolai into the tub, but to do it gently. Nikolai couldn't take a lot of jarring, his body was too frail, so they were to be careful. Anna pulled back the pile of quilts and blankets and Nikitin gasped.

"Bloody hell!"

Nikolai had changed out of all recognition from the big, brawny lone wolf of a sniper he had first met all those months ago. His broad frame carried no weight, the musculature of his body stretched gauntly over prominent bones. Nikitin thought for a moment that if they dropped him Nikolai was so fragile he would break into a million pieces.

"Lubov …" Nikitin motioned to the young soldier to take Nikolai's legs. "Be careful, you young bugger! That's it … gently now …"

Between them they lifted Nikolai from the bed, still clad in his underclothes, Oleg at his head and shoulders, Nikitin and Lubov cradling the thin body. Nikolai groaned at the disturbance and Rivka was beside him, holding his hand and whispering words of reassurance to him as they lowered him gently into the tub. Rivka knelt and put her arms around Nikolai's chest as he lay, sweating and delirious in the empty tub, supporting him as well as she could and talking to him softly. Nikolai quieted and Rivka looked up at Oleg, nodding that both she and Nikolai were ready.

Oleg lifted the bucket of cold water and slowly poured it over Nikolai's shivering frame.

The freezing water drenched the wasted body, the shock making Nikolai cry out loudly. Rivka had to bite back a cry of her own as the water hit the bare skin of her arms, but she held onto Nikolai tightly, crooning to him, letting him know she was still there and that he wasn't alone.

Nikitin just stood beside them, shock on his rodent-like face. What the hell the doctor was doing he had no idea, but he was pretty sure that dumping cold water on a man with typhus was a bloody awful thing to do. But the look on Rivka's face stopped the words of anger that were threatening to bubble from him. Her face was pressed alongside Nikolai's, her voice soft, indistinct, whatever she was saying meant only for this man she loved. She was desperate, Nikitin realised, and he saw the way Nikolai turned his face to hers, taking comfort in his agony at her presence. Nikitin knew then that this was a last chance for the big man. If this radical treatment didn't work, Major Nikolai Koulikov was a dead man.

"Lubov?"

Lubov turned a child-like face to the scruffy little corporal.

"Yeah, Corp?"

"Get your useless arse into gear and go find out what's keeping those bastards! We need more water, double quick!"

Lubov heard the concern in Nikitin's voice and bobbed his head.

"Righto, Corp - we'll be back before you know it." Lubov scuttled out of the door, closing it quietly behind him.

Nikitin didn't take his eyes off Nikolai as Oleg checked the big man's pulse. The young doctor raised his eyebrows.

"Still strong. That's good. I was worried that the first one would shock his system too much, but he's coping." He looked up at Nikitin. "I need more water."

"It's coming, Doc. My lads - "

But before Nikitin could finish the door slammed open, admitting a cold blast of air and two labouring mechanics carrying buckets slopping at the brim with water. Oleg fell on the buckets eagerly, and handed the empty one to one of the soldiers.

"Keep it going! We need more - a lot more!" He turned to Rivka, a full bucket in his grasp. "Ready?"

Rivka braced herself and nodded.

The second bucketful sent Nikolai's weak body arching upwards at the shock of the freezing liquid, but Rivka hung onto him, unable to suppress a shiver as the water soaked her arms.

Nikitin snatched the bucket from Oleg and headed off out of the doorway.

"Don't worry about the water, Doc - we'll have it ready for you, you just tell us when to stop."

But Oleg wasn't listening as he crouched beside Nikolai once more, checking him as before. Anna draped a blanket around Rivka's shoulders, worried that she would become chilled. Oleg nodded again, this time more firmly.

"He's coping, Rivka! By God, this might just work! A few more bucketfuls and we can get him out of there and dry him off. But we'll have to make sure he's warmed up as quickly as possible, all right? His temperature should come down after this!" He saw how much Rivka was shivering. "Why not let Anna hold him for a little while? You shouldn't - "

Rivka shook her head vigorously.

"No, Oleg! He knows it's me, and he needs me! I'll be fine, don't worry!" And her arms tightened around Nikolai, the big man shuddering with the cold, drenched as he was by the icy water now sloshing around in the tub.

"B … bloody cold …"

Oleg's retort was stopped by Nikolai's weak voice. Azure eyes opened and tried to focus on the doctor, and Oleg's heart leapt.

"Keep talking to him, Rivka! Tell him what's happening to him, try and make him understand, all right? Now, where's that other bucket?"

Anna had it ready beside him, and more buckets were beginning to line up beside the tub as Nikitin and his men kept up their journey to and from the old pump.

Each bucketful brought weak cries of distress from Nikolai, but Rivka continued to talk to him, words whispering in his ear as she reassured him and told him he would get well if he withstood the discomfort of this last desperate measure to save his life. After six buckets, the tub was half-full and both Rivka and Nikolai were shivering uncontrollably with the cold, and Oleg decided enough was enough.

"Let's get him out of there!! Come on now, Nikitin! We have to move fast, do you hear??"

Anna stood and watched as Nikitin and his men lifted Major Nikolai Koulikov from the numbing cold of the icy water with such tenderness it made her chest tighten. Then she helped Rivka dry her arms and slip on her dressing gown, trying to warm her up. Afterwards, Oleg, Anna and Rivka stripped Nikolai from his dripping underclothes and wrapped him in heated blankets, using soft towels to dry his enfeebled body. Within minutes he was once more dressed in warm longjohns, undershirt and a pair of woollen socks and tucked safely under quilts in the big bed.

Oleg sat beside him as Anna made the decidedly chilled soldiers more tea and gave them bowls of soup to warm up their insides.

They all watched with bated breath as Oleg checked Nikolai, and listened to the soft 'hems' coming from the young doctor as he sounded out Nikolai's chest and checked his temperature. Finally he looked over at Rivka, back in her place beside Nikolai on the bed.

"Well … his heart's stood up to it, so that's one thing I don't have to worry about. His chest's not too bad, and his temperature's down a good bit - but that may be just temporary, Rivka." He saw her frown. "Look, his fever hasn't broken yet, but from what I can remember it can take a little time if it's going to work at all. If he makes it through the night … then I think there will be some hope. That's all I can say, Rivka. I can't do any more, I'm sorry."

Rivka nodded.

"Thank you Oleg. Thank you for trying, at least. Anna, why don't you take him home and feed him? He looks exhausted. Corporal?" She saw Nikitin look up from his soup. The little mechanic's face was tired and concerned. "I don't know how I can thank you for all that you and your men have done for Niko and myself."

Nikitin smiled sadly.

"That's all right, Missus. Me and the lads will away now and let you get your sleep. We'll come by in the morning and see if you and the Major need anything - you know Lubov can nick anything you want."

Rivka nearly dissolved into tears. Since she had met Major Nikolai Koulikov, she had gained friends - good friends, friends who were there for them both no matter what happened. She looked at Nikolai's drawn features, the big man still shivering uncontrollably. It was her beloved Niko, who had brought her so much joy and laughter, that made life worth living. Before all of them, she leaned forwards and kissed Nikolai with so much love that Nikitin had to swallow hard to keep his emotions under control.

"Right! Er … come on now, you mangy bunch of whoremongering, stupid bastards! Beggin' your pardon, Missus … we'll get back to the motor pool - those bloody tanks won't mend themselves!"

Rivka settled down on the pillows beside Nikolai as she watched the scruffy bunch of soldiers file out of the cellar, and then Oleg shrugged into his coat, Anna pulling up his collar before wrapping herself up in her own warm jacket.

"Rivka, Anna and I should stay. You'll need help - "

Rivka Velonina smiled.

"No, Oleg. Niko and I will be fine on our own. We'll have this time together, at least, if anything …" She blinked back tears. "Well, off you go. If I need you I'll come and get you, I promise. Otherwise, I'll see you in the morning as usual."

Oleg studied her for a moment. A tough woman, he thought. Very tough indeed. But God knows what will happen if Nikolai dies …

Sighing, he followed Anna out of the cellar and shut the door behind them. Once outside in the chill night, Anna looked up at him and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

"Is he going to make it, love?"

Oleg looked down into grey eyes that reflected the beauty of the starlit night.

"I don't know, Annushka … I really don't know …"

Anna, unable to say another word for fear of breaking down into tears, linked her arm in Oleg's and they walked down the bombed-out street towards the hospital.

*****************

Rivka was exhausted.

Sliding off the bed for a moment, she considered trying to eat something, but she decided she was just too tired and upset. So she slipped out of her dressing gown and shoes and eased fully-clothed into bed beside Nikolai.

He knew she was there even in his agitated state, and moved onto his side with her help, sighing when he felt her arms cradle him as she had done so many times these past few days. Spooned behind him Rivka felt how chilled he was, even in the warm clothing and wrapped in quilts, and reached around to rub his chest, knowing it would calm him. Even in his semi-conscious state, his hand clasped hers and held it tight to his chest, and she smiled as he murmured quietly.

"That … that's better …"

Rivka kissed his shoulder and hugged him gently.

"Sleep, love, that's what you must do now. You have to rest and get well. Don't worry … I'll be here in the morning … I'll always be here … always, Niko … forever …"

They lay quietly, Nikolai's shivering slowly subsiding as he drifted into a restless sleep, and Rivka held him as close to her as she could, knowing it might well be their last night together. She had intended to stay awake and watch over him, but the comfort of his body even in its fevered state was too much.

Before she could stop herself, her eyes drooped, and she drifted slowly into a deep and dreamless sleep.

*******************

Rivka Velonina was cold. Damp, stiff … and very, very cold.

Her hand was still clasped in Nikolai's and the big man was sprawled on his back … but his hand was chilled. She was still half-asleep as she tried to remove her hand from his … and discovered she couldn't. It was held fast.

She blinked into the sudden, harsh, realisation that he hadn't moved.

Her heart almost stopped in fear.

Oh God!! Oh no!! Nonono … no, he couldn't … please God, no!!!!!!

The words screamed through her mind as she scrambled up onto her elbow, eyes spilling tears, terror shuddering through her … only to catch her breath as she looked at his face.

Eyes of the deepest, clearest azure blue watched her from a face gaunt and wasted with desperate illness … but they were eyes that were very much alive. Nikolai's chest rose in a deep, slow sigh, and his eyelids shut slowly and reopened, languidly, sleepily … and he smiled.

"Rivka …" His voice was so faint and dry she could hardly hear it. "Rivka … if I wasn't … so b … bloody weak … I'd take … take advantage … of you …"

Holding back the sobs of joy threatening to break from her chest Rivka smiled, tears trickling unheeded down her face. She lifted his hand and held it to her lips, realising now the chill came from the cooled perspiration soaking his underclothes and skin. His fever was gone, apparently having broken sometime through the night in a rush of sweat. She kissed his knuckles, swollen with the effects of the typhus.

"Oh, Niko!! Niko, my love …" The words broke from her in a soft, trembling, joyous voice. "My wonderful, clever Niko … if you weren't so bloody weak I'd let you!!"

Nikolai looked at her face, streaked with tears and pale and drawn with worry and thought he had never seen anyone as beautiful as his Rivka.

He felt awful. Weak as a newborn calf, washed-out, useless … and he hadn't been so bloody cold since … since … hell, he couldn't remember. In fact he couldn't remember much of the past few days. The only thing of which he was certain was the sound of Rivka's voice, always there, always comforting, telling him he was loved and wanted. He frowned. Why in God's name was Rivka crying? She was sitting up in bed, fully dressed for some reason, sobbing and clutching his hand to her breast as though he was at death's door. Marshalling all of his pitiful strength, he lifted his free hand unsteadily and pushed back a tendril of hair at her brow … and all that little effort did was make her cry even harder. Now this wouldn't do! This wouldn't do at all!

"Rivka … I'm thirsty. Could … could I have … something to drink?"

Wiping away tears with the heel of her hand Rivka nodded vigorously, and scrambling from the bed she fetched him a glass of water. Nikolai managed all of it in hesitant, unsure swallows, enjoying the trickle of the liquid down his throat.

Afterwards he watched with wondrous eyes as Rivka eased the damp, cold clothing from his body and washed the sweat from weak limbs and bony frame. Nikolai relished the feel of the hot cloth, and lay back on soft pillows as Rivka dried him carefully, making sure his wounded arm and the sore places on his hips were coated in a healing salve. Finished, she talked quietly as she dressed him in warm underclothes and tucked the quilts around him. She patted him on the chest lovingly.

"There, my Niko - feel better now?"

He grinned and Rivka's heart soared. She hadn't seen him grin like that since he had left for the eastern front all those months ago.

"Feel a lot better … warm … feels good …"

Rivka looked at her old clock - Oleg wouldn't be here for another two hours. Perhaps … perhaps they could get a couple of hours sleep. She asked Nikolai if he was hungry, but he shook his head.

"Not really … but maybe later. Yes, my lady … I think … I think I could eat something later …"

She smiled and kissed him, her eyes closing as she felt him respond.

"How about we get some sleep, then? You'll have to rest a lot, Niko - you've been very sick, you know." She stroked his cheek. "I could do with getting some sleep too - both the baby and I are very, very tired!"

Nikolai blinked. He had almost forgotten! The baby. His and Rivka's baby. She should be resting, not looking after a big ox like him! He pulled her hand slightly - it was all he could do. He didn't have the strength to do anything else.

"Come … come to bed, Missus. I want my … my lady … and my little one … to get some sleep … yes … sleep … sleep with me …"

Rivka smiled, happiness and relief flooding her mind. He was better. He would live. Her Niko would live.

"Yes, love. Let's get some sleep, shall we?"

Within minutes she had shed her clothes and shrugged into her night-gown, Nikolai watching her with eyes full of love. As she stretched upwards to pull the gown over her head he glimpsed the unmistakable swell of the child in her belly, the soft, smooth rise of her abdomen thrilling him with the evidence of their baby.

He sighed, his lungs still congested somewhat but feeling better than they had done for a long while. Rivka slipped under the quilts and snuggled around him, holding his thin body to hers, her head on his shoulder. She watched as he struggled to stay awake and lost the battle, his eyes closing and his breathing becoming regular at last. He was still very ill, she knew, but the fever had gone. With care and love and good food he would survive.

Nuzzling his shoulder quietly, she relaxed for the first time in many months and smiled as she felt a faint flutter in her belly. The child moved in her womb, and her Niko was alive. All was well.

Rivka Velonina held Major Nikolai Koulikov in her arms and fell fast asleep.

*******************

Back to Beginning

To Chapter 16