Olga pulled Svetlana aside, her voice laced with practical concern. “Our meat supply is running low, Svetlana. If we don’t replenish it soon, we’ll have starving wolves to contend with.”

“Tomorrow, you and I will go into the forest and hunt,” Svetlana agreed. “Money is short, and going into town right now could be risky.”

Olga nodded. “We’ll inform the others in the morning.”

At dawn, Olga called a meeting in the central courtyard. “Listen, everyone. Svetlana and I are heading out to hunt today. We’re taking the wolves with us. Polina, Anna, and Maria—the three of you will stay behind to secure and clean the fort, and prepare today’s meals. We should return by evening, hopefully with a successful yield.”

Riding out through the fort’s wooden gates, they were flanked by Chimera and Aspira. An hour later, they reached the base of the mountain foothills, where they paused to recheck their rifles before pressing deeper into the dense timberland. Olga kept her gaze sweeping across the tree line while Svetlana scanned the damp earth for fresh tracks.

Her vigilance paid off. Deep in the mud, she identified a fresh trail left by a sounder of wild boar—two fully grown adults and four piglets.

“We track them carefully,” Svetlana whispered, motioning to Olga. “We can’t afford to be hasty. One gash from a boar’s tusk could end this hunt—and one of us—in an instant.”

Olga stayed behind with Aspira to hold the horses, while Svetlana and Chimera stalked forward on foot. The brush was thick, and their intended prey quickly sensed danger. Without warning, a massive male boar burst from a dense thicket, charging straight at Svetlana.

Anticipating the attack, Svetlana dropped to one knee, bringing her rifle to her shoulder in a fluid, practiced motion. She cocked the lever and squeezed the trigger, driving a bullet straight into the boar’s skull. The boar dropped, its momentum sliding the heavy carcass right to her feet.

Instantly, the female boar charged from the opposite thicket. Chimera sprinted into action, lunging at the beast’s flank to draw its fury away from Svetlana. The wolf’s quick diversion gave Svetlana the precious seconds she needed to cycle another round into the chamber and fire. The bullet struck true, slowing the sow’s advance. Two rapid follow-up shots brought the beast down for good.

Hearing the gunfire, Olga arrived with Aspira, her face breaking into a relieved smile when she saw Svetlana unharmed. She had to use all her strength to calm the jittery horses, who were spooked by the heavy scent of fresh blood.

Working methodically, Svetlana and Olga skinned and dressed the carcasses. They fed the internal organs to the wolves as a reward for their discipline. Using oilskins and heavy rope brought from camp, they wrapped the meat into four tight, balanced parcels for the pack horses, making the return trip far easier.

They reached the fort just after sunset. Everyone immediately pitched in to process the harvest. Polina sliced long strips of lean meat to dry in the sun, while Olga and the two younger girls set about constructing a proper smokehouse for long-term preservation.

They chose a partially ruined stone room at the rear of the fort for the project. Svetlana gathered scattered bricks from the collapsed outer walls and mixed clay mortar to construct a corner fire pit, engineered to vent indirect heat and heavy smoke throughout the enclosure.

By noon the following day, the smokehouse was complete. They lit a slow-burning hardwood fire and hung the seasoned meat from durable cords suspended across the ceiling. Stepping back, the women congratulated each other on their craftsmanship; no more meat would rot on their watch.

That evening, as they sat around the hearth, Svetlana looked up and asked, “Have any of you ever read or heard the story of The Three Musketeers?”

The women shook their heads, curious.

Recalling the tale as her mother had once told it, Svetlana explained, “The story is called The Three Musketeers, but in truth, there were four main heroes. The original three—Athos, Porthos, and Aramis—joined forces with D’Artagnan, a young man determined to follow in his father’s footsteps. Together, they faced impossible dangers for the King and Queen of France. But what I love most about them is their unyielding bravery, honesty, and loyalty to one another. Their bond was bound by a sacred oath: All for one, and one for all.“

“I love that!” Anna exclaimed, her eyes bright. “Can’t we adopt their motto for our group?”

Maria laughed softly. “Sure! We’ll be the Five Musketeers—only instead of rapiers, we carry rifles.”

In the days that followed, life at the fort settled into a productive rhythm. Observing their small garden patch, Olga, leveraging her background in farming, suggested expanding their plots so they could harvest crops in continuous rotations. The next morning, Anna and Maria set to work planting additional rows with their remaining seed stock.

With daily watering and tending, the garden flourished. Soon, it was harvest time. The tomato vines yielded plump, sweet cherry tomatoes; the potato plot produced large, firm tubers; and the onion beds yielded beautiful, golden-brown bulbs. It was a bountiful harvest, securing their vegetable supply for weeks to come.

However, their store of smoked and dried meat was dwindling again, signaling the need for another hunting expedition. Eager for adventure, Anna and Maria begged to join. Svetlana granted their wish, though Polina stayed behind at the fort with Chimera and Aspira to guard their homestead.

Before departing, Svetlana schooled the sisters on fundamental hunting safety, stressing one absolute rule: every command given in the woods had to be obeyed instantly, without hesitation or question.

The hunt was a success. The party returned the following afternoon bearing a large sow, four piglets, and a Siberian roe deer. Polina welcomed her daughters home with tearful relief. By the next morning, the smokehouse was filled to capacity once more.

Life at the fort, however, was rarely without disruption.

Drama arrived late one afternoon when Polina, scanning the horizon from the watch tower, spotted a caravan of three covered wagons approaching the gates. She alerted the rest of the group immediately.

“Olga, take point duty at the gate,” Svetlana ordered swiftly. “I’m going to take the wolves into the woods. Their presence will terrify the newcomers, spook their horses, and cause the team to bolt or wreck their carts.”

By the time the heavy wooden wagons rolled into the courtyard, Svetlana and the wolves were out of sight.

A tall man stepped down from the lead wagon and raised his hands in a gesture of peace. “I am Lorenzo Romanov,” he announced in a deep, gravelly voice. “We are Romani traveling from Hungary. We heard of this abandoned fort from other travelers. We bypassed the nearby town—our people are rarely welcomed in places like that—and we are desperately in need of rest, fresh water, and provisions. May we seek shelter here?”

Olga stepped forward, offering her hand. “I am Olga. Our leader, Svetlana, is away at the moment, but she should return soon. We can offer you rest and water for your families and draft animals, but our food stores are limited.”

Knowing it was safe to return, Olga sent Anna and Maria to fetch Svetlana. Shortly after, Svetlana walked back into the courtyard alone.

Olga introduced the traveler. “Svetlana, this is Lorenzo. He and his family are passing through and need assistance. They’re hesitant to enter the town due to the prejudice they face there. I told him our supplies are lean. How can we help?”

Lorenzo looked at Svetlana with quiet desperation. “Is there no way you can spare anything?”

Svetlana, knowing firsthand the horror of being displaced and vulnerable, paused to consider. “There is a way. Bring your people forward and introduce them while I figure out a plan.”

Lorenzo called his family forward from the wagons. “This is my wife, Layla; my daughter, Aurora; and my son, Manfri. Over here is my cousin Andrzej, his wife Liora, and their children—Rosemary, Juniper, and Django. We are nine in total.”

“Unhitch your wagons and lead the horses to the stables,” Svetlana instructed. “Olga will help you tie them securely. They will panic when I bring my companions back. I have two wolves that I raised; they have been my constant guards for over four years. They are disciplined and obedient to my commands. No harm will come to your family or your stock, so long as you remain calm.”

Lorenzo agreed, though his family exchanged uneasy glances.

“We will discuss a plan for supplies once I return,” Svetlana added. “In the meantime, Olga and Polina will prepare a hot meal for everyone.”

Svetlana fetched Chimera and Aspira and led them directly into the private quarters she shared with Olga, allowing the wolves to settle down before bringing them out to meet the travelers. Later, in the main hall, she introduced the wolves under controlled conditions, with Olga and the girls standing nearby to reassure the Romani family.

When Chimera let out a low, protective growl, Svetlana issued a sharp verbal command. The wolf instantly fell silent and relaxed its posture. Recognizing the extraordinary bond between the woman and the wild beasts, Lorenzo’s family realized they were safe.

Olga smiled proudly. “To us, Svetlana is the Wolf Girl.”

Lorenzo, a man well-versed in history, nodded thoughtfully. “It reminds me of the founding of Rome. The she-wolf Lupa rescued the abandoned twins Romulus and Remus at the Tiber River, nurturing them in her cave on the Palatine Hill. From Romulus came the name of Rome—and by Latin lineage, the origin of my own family’s surname, Romanov.”

The shared historical note broke the remaining tension, establishing a mutual respect between the groups.

Svetlana brought the discussion back to practical matters. “Tomorrow morning, we must spend time getting your horses used to the wolves’ scent. Then, we will take one of your wagons into town. Do you have funds to purchase provisions?”

“Yes,” Lorenzo replied. “We have currency and several gold coins, which merchants usually accept without question.”

“Good,” Svetlana said. “No merchant turns down gold. We’ll enter town using a secondary route I know well. Olga and I will provide armed security. Polina, Anna, and Maria will stay behind to hold the fort. Lorenzo, do any of your men carry firearms?”

“My cousin and our older sons hunt with me,” Lorenzo answered. “We are all capable marksmen.”

“Excellent. You and two of your young men will come along to help secure the wagon and load the cargo. One of your women may join us to select the goods.”

The next morning, after getting the draft horses accustomed to the wolves’ scent, they hitched the team to the wagon and set off for town.

The motley convoy of Romani travelers and heavily armed escorts drew hostile, suspicious glares from the townspeople. However, seeing the rifles strapped across Svetlana and Olga’s shoulders, no one dared interfere. Svetlana guided the group to the dry-goods merchant and farm supplier, where Lorenzo’s family began selecting essential supplies.

As they loaded the wagon, a familiar figure stepped out from behind the stables.

It was Boris. Flanked by seven armed thugs carrying heavy batons and revolvers, he strutted forward with foolish bravado, clearly believing his numbers gave him the upper hand.

Svetlana didn’t hesitate. She raised her rifle, aiming directly at his chest, and called out a single warning: “Boris, if you or your men take one step closer, my first bullet goes through your skull, and the next goes through the man on your right. Do not test me. Your death in this town will be treated as a blessing, not a loss.”

Boris faltered for a fraction of a second—just long enough for Svetlana to shift her aim slightly and pull the trigger.

Crack!

The heavy rifle bullet shattered Boris’s upper right arm. His revolver clattered to the dirt road as he fell to his knees with a bellow of pain. Seeing their leader instantly drop, the thug on his right panicked, turned, and sprinted down an alleyway. The remaining six thugs scattered right behind him.

Svetlana kept her rifle raised, scanning the street. The townspeople remained frozen, unwilling to get involved. Within half an hour, the supply wagon was fully loaded, and the party rode out of town without further incident.

They returned to the fort late that afternoon. The Romani travelers prepared to depart the following morning.

At dawn, after sharing a final meal, Lorenzo’s family hitched their three wagons, fully packed and ready for the road. After warm farewells and wishes of safe passage, Lorenzo stepped toward Svetlana.

“Lupa, Wolf Girl,” he said respectfully, holding out his hand. “Please accept this from my family for your protection and hospitality.”

He placed six large gold coins into her palm. Svetlana knew that refusing the gesture would offend his honor, so she accepted them graciously, thanking him for his generosity.

With the Romani caravan gone, the wolves were allowed back out to roam the courtyard freely. But hosting nine guests had drained the fort’s food reserves once again. Svetlana and Olga planned a two-part mission: first, a quick hunting trip into the mountains, followed by another run into town for specialized goods.

At dawn, Svetlana, Olga, Chimera, and Aspira headed into the forest foothills. Moving downwind through a timber draw, the wolves alerted the hunters to a large stag feeding in a clearing. At Svetlana’s quiet gesture, Chimera and Aspira sprinted through the brush, driving the animal toward a natural bottleneck in the rocks and quickly bringing it down.

The women dressed the kill, packed the meat into their oilskins, and returned to the fort hours before sunset to hang the harvest in the smokehouse.

The next day, Svetlana and Olga rode into town to buy long-term store goods: sacks of dried grain, seasonal fruit, seeds for beetroot and turnip crops, and armfuls of tinned rations. Svetlana paid using two of Lorenzo’s gold coins. They also stopped by the butcher’s shop to acquire fresh cuts of beef and salt-cured lamb.

As they prepared to pack their saddlebags and leave, Svetlana’s gaze caught movement near the military stables at the edge of the town square.

A high-ranking officer and eight uniformed soldiers were exiting the compound, laughing boisterously. Svetlana’s blood ran cold. Standing at the center of the group was the man responsible for her family’s arrest, ruin, and exile to the Siberian labor camps: Commandant Dmitri Vladimir.

Svetlana caught Olga’s arm. “Stop. Look down the street.”

“What is it?” Olga asked softly.

“That officer,” Svetlana whispered, her voice tight with cold rage. “That is Commandant Dmitri Vladimir. He destroyed my family.”

“Svetlana, keep your head down—”

“He hasn’t seen me since I was a child,” Svetlana said quietly. “He won’t recognize me.”

Leaving Olga with the horses, Svetlana walked purposefully down the boardwalk, passing within feet of Vladimir. As she suspected, the commandant barely spared her a glance, completely oblivious to her identity.

Svetlana slipped into a nearby stationer’s shop and quietly asked the clerk about the military presence. The clerk blithely mentioned that Commandant Vladimir and his personal detachment were taking an extended holiday at a private mountain resort just outside of town. Before leaving the shop, Svetlana purchased a detailed topographical map of the surrounding region.

Revenge was no longer a distant dream; providence had delivered her enemy directly into her reach.

That evening, Svetlana sat the group down inside the fort and revealed the truth of her past—detailing her family’s destruction at the hands of Vladimir and the commander of the labor camp.

“My friends, I have a duty to fulfill,” Svetlana concluded, her voice steady and absolute. “A promise I made to my mother the last time I saw her alive. I will be gone for a few days. If I do not return, know that I died restoring the honor of the Ivanov name. I do this as the daughter of Sergey and Elena Ivanov.”

Polina and the girls pleaded with her to abandon the blood feud, fearing for her life.

Olga placed a firm hand on Svetlana’s shoulder. “Svetlana, remember the old truth: If you set out to bury your enemy in vengeance, dig two graves—one for your victim, and one for yourself. You will not return from this unchanged.”

Svetlana’s expression remained fixed like carved granite. “My promise is absolute.”

Olga sighed. “Then if you go, I go with you. You helped me deal with my past; I will help you with yours.”

“No,” Svetlana commanded softly. “The group cannot afford to lose both of us. You must stay here and lead the fort. I go alone.”

At daybreak, Svetlana prepared for her ride. She carefully studied the topographical map, identifying the secluded valley where the mountain resort was located.

“Olga, I am taking the brass spyglass,” Svetlana said as she packed her kit. “I need it to reconnoiter their perimeter.”

She entrusted her remaining diamonds to Olga for safekeeping, kept two gold coins for emergency supplies, and saddled her white horse. Sensing her dark mood, Chimera and Aspira paced nervously beside her. She stroked their coats, calmed them with quiet words, and mounted up. She rode out through the gates without looking back.

Stopping at a small outpost on the outskirts of town, she purchased a lightweight shelter tent, a heavy canvas groundsheet, water canisters, and additional rifle ammunition. By midday, she reached the high ridges overlooking the resort valley.

Svetlana scouted the terrain until she found a steep, pine-covered ridge that directly overlooked the resort’s central courtyard. Positioned on the reverse slope, her small camp was completely hidden from view below, while a short crawl to the crest gave her an unobstructed line of sight.

She pitched her tent, laid out her groundsheet near the ridge crest, and pulled out her spyglass.

Through the lens, the resort was clearly visible. The distance was long, but entirely manageable for a precision shot. She knew, however, that impatience would be fatal. She would wait for the perfect moment.

For two days, Svetlana lay in wait, watching the compound’s routines through rain and heat.

On the third morning, at mid-morning, Commandant Dmitri Vladimir stepped out onto the wide wooden veranda of the main lodge. The sun was directly behind Svetlana, casting no glare on her optics and leaving her position shrouded in shadow. Vladimir stopped near the railing, standing completely still as he waited for a horse to be brought around.

Svetlana didn’t hesitate. She eased herself into a prone position, resting her rifle barrel across a flat, moss-covered rock for stability.

She centered the crosshairs of her telescopic sight directly over Vladimir’s heart.

She took a slow, deep breath, let half of it out, held her position, and gently squeezed the trigger.

BOOM!

The rifle cracked through the canyon. Through the scope, she saw the bullet strike dead center. Vladimir collapsed backward onto the veranda, dead before he hit the floorboards.

One down, Svetlana thought with cold precision. One to go.

Pandemonium broke out below. Soldiers and civilians scrambled in terror, diving behind benches and wagons, completely unable to determine where the single shot had come from.

Before the chaos settled, Svetlana ejected the spent brass casing, slipped it into her pocket, and low-crawled backward down the reverse slope. She packed her tent and gear in under three minutes, mounted her horse, and rode down the mountain path away from the scene.

She bypassed the town entirely, taking back trails to ensure no one could connect her to the event.

When she rode through the fort gates late that afternoon, the tension lifted from the group, and the two wolves bounded forward to greet her.

That night at the dinner table, Svetlana quietly confirmed the execution of her target.

Olga looked at her across the lantern light. “Is it finished?”

“No,” Svetlana answered quietly. “There were two men who murdered my family. Now I must find the location of the second: Commandant Konstantin Gromov.”

Later that night, lying on her cot in the quiet darkness of the fort, a new strategy took shape in her mind.

I need a detailed map of Siberia, she thought, closing her eyes. I need to find every settlement and outpost near Sevvostlag.