Red Icon Read Online Free PDF

him,’ replied Bolotov. ‘It is my fault for thinking that I could speak as one man of God to another.’
    ‘What was it in your words that angered him?’ Stefan asked, confused. ‘I’ve never seen him act like this before.’
    ‘I simply told him a truth which he did not want to hear.’
    ‘And what truth is that?’
    They had been standing side by side under the eaves of the house, where they were partially sheltered from the rain. But now Bolotov turned to Stefan, and his gaze burned into the young man. ‘The truth is that only by freeing yourself of earthly chains can you enter the kingdom of heaven.’
    ‘That happens to us all when we die,’ said Stefan, ‘and it seems to me that he is well aware of that already.’
    ‘But what he does not know, or chooses not to see, is that the only way to prove yourself worthy of heaven is to cut through those chains while we still live. Only those who separate themselves from the flock will be saved.’
    ‘And the rest?’ asked Stefan. ‘What will happen to them?’
    ‘They will be swept away in a tide of blood.’ Gently, Bolotov took hold of Stefan’s arm. ‘Do not be afraid of what I’m saying. We all have a chance to prove our worth. But it takes courage. More courage than most men and women possess. It is not enough simply to acknowledge the suffering of Christ. Anyone can do that. What we must do is test the mettle of our faith by showing that we, too, are capable of suffering for what we believe. It requires setting out on a new path, instead of the one which has been chosen for us by those who think they know us better than we know ourselves.’
    Stefan thought of the day his father had handed him over to the butcher. There had been no discussion. No words of comfort. Not even a hand on his shoulder to offer consolation. ‘I learned to accept it,’ he muttered, as much to himself as to the pilgrim.
    ‘But why should you?’ exclaimed Bolotov. ‘Why spend your life trying to meet the expectations of those who cannot even meet those same demands themselves? Why not begin a journey which only the bravest can make? No man is free until he has proven himself to himself.’
    At almost any other time, Bolotov’s words might have rung hollow to Stefan Kohl but, in that moment, they struck him so profoundly that he felt as if he had been sleeping all his life and had only now awakened.
    As they stood there, watching the rain pour from the roof like threads of mercury, and Bolotov went on to explain exactly what he meant by the severing of earthly chains, Stefan was appalled by his description of the bloody rituals, but also fascinated by such a brutal gesture of commitment. No one had ever asked him to sacrifice anything before, as if nothing he had was worth consigning to his faith. To his amazement, Stefan realised that he was not afraid, even if that sacrifice was to be paid in his own flesh. For the first time in his life, he glimpsed the possibility of a life filled with a purpose that was greater than the one for which he had been taught to settle.
    ‘Come with me,’ said Bolotov.
    Those words seemed to snatch the air from Stefan’s lungs. ‘Now?’ he gasped.
    ‘Now or never!’ exclaimed Bolotov. ‘Your chance may never come again. Everywhere I go I hear talk of war with Germany. It may already be too late. The heritage of your forefathers, which you have struggled so hard to maintain, will be the doom of this place. Soon the Russians will drive you from this land and send you back where you came from.’
    ‘But this is where I am from!’ Stefan protested. ‘I have never known anything else.’
    ‘They don’t care about that,’ Bolotov told him. ‘In their eyes, you have already been tried and convicted. All that remains now is for the sentence to be served. But you should consider yourself lucky.’
    ‘And why is that?’ he asked.
    ‘Unlike them,’ Bolotov waved his hand out into the dark, where chinks of light shone through the