The caravan was led through a narrow valley. After several days, the valley opened to expose a small town. Erzincan sat in a lush green basin, surrounded by snow-capped mountains. They had been so close to this town when they first climbed into the mountains. The whole mountain episode had been orchestrated for the sole purpose of killing people.
The procession passed through the center of town to a small square covered in the improvised tents of another Armenian group. Boghos was near the front of the caravan. He found a gap between two tents and had started setting up for the night when Emma and Rosmerta found him. As usual, Rosmerta took the jug and went looking for water.
A crowd was gathered around a well on the north side of the square. Rosmerta approached to see what was happening.
“Please Mama, water,” pleaded a little girl.
“Soon,” said her mother.
“What’s wrong?” asked Rosmerta. “Why can’t you get water?”
“The guards won’t let anyone near the well unless they pay. I don’t have any money. Do you?”
“No,” replied Rosmerta, realizing the horrible truth. Shushawn, as the matriarch of the group, had all the money, and her body was twenty miles back on the trail. Rosmerta wandered around town for a while. She saw some deportees buying food and clothing, complaining about the ridiculous prices they had to pay. At least they were getting what they needed. Rosmerta also realized that the buyers were far outnumbered by people like her who had no money and nothing to eat. Money talked in Erzincan, and she had none.
Rosmerta patted her right hip. I have the comb, she reminded herself. But what was she to do with it? Could she trade it for food? Should she try to sell it? Who would buy it? How much was it worth? She had to talk with Boghos. He seemed to know how to get things done.
She returned to camp to find Emma and Boghos munching on a loaf of bread. “Where did you get that?”
“He stole it,” said Emma. “Here.” She handed a piece to Rosmerta.
“We need money,” Rosmerta said between bites.
“I know,” said Boghos. “We’ll get some later. At least we have food for tonight.”
He was right. They were okay tonight. Her comb would remain her secret for now.
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A rumor spread throughout the camp that they were to be on the move again in the morning. Erzincan was a small town and could not handle all these refugees. The people who traveled from Gumushkhane complained that they were here first and the group from Bayburt would have to find their own place. Those from Bayburt insisted that they needed rest after their long march and that those from Gumushkhane were well rested and should leave Erzincan to them. A fight nearly broke out between the two factions, when a group of Muslim men came storming into the tent city.
At first, the Armenians thought they were soldiers coming to break up the fight. It wasn’t long before they knew the truth. These men were looking for women. Rosmerta watched in horror as a man picked up a young girl from a neighboring tent and carried her away. The girl’s mother ran after her. The kidnapper sliced her face open with his sword. The woman kept stumbling forward, flailing at the air. With blood in her eyes, she couldn’t see and fell. The man disappeared with her daughter.
Other men were taking their prizes as well. Some carried girls off and others simply raped them in their tents and left them as so much waste. Rosmerta and Emma hurried into the tent while Boghos stood guard at the entrance. Several men studied him threateningly. Boghos stood firm. Although he was small, he was male. There were very few males left in the group. While Boghos probably couldn’t put up much of a fight, it was easier for the marauders to leave him alone and find another target. Eventually all the men got what they came for—a wife or some shorter-term pleasure—and they left the camp. Boghos slipped back into the tent and joined the women. “They’re gone,” he said.
Rosmerta reached up to hug Boghos. They embraced for a long time. “I was so scared,” she said.
“So was I,” he said. “But they’re gone now.”
Rosmerta glanced at Emma, who was staring into space, totally non-responsive. She looked back at Boghos, tears appearing in her eyes.
He sat beside Rosmerta, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her towards him. Her head resting on Boghos’ shoulder, Rosmerta wept.
Emma’s trance was broken. She watched the young couple, opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it. She rolled over to face the side of the tent.
After a while, Boghos asked, “Do you remember the Trndez festival before Aghavni was married?”
Rosmerta shook her head.
“I sure do. That’s the night I was told we were betrothed. Aghavni brought the fire to us for Shushawn. When people started jumping over the fire in celebration of their coming wedding, I wanted to join them. My father said I was too young. He pointed at you and said, ‘See Rosmerta over there? She’s not jumping either. In a few years, you two can jump the fire together.’ Just then, you ran past us and jumped. I looked at my father and he just shrugged. So, I jumped too. After that, I decided that having you as my wife would be okay.”
Rosmerta looked up at Boghos and pulled him closer.
He laid his head on hers. She was no longer crying.