The Masters

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The Masters Page 32

by Christopher Nicole


  The sun was well up, now, and bringing a little warmth to the January morning, but yet it was extremely cold, and it was an effort not to shiver. But she must not shiver. Now there were again men to either side, Japanese soldiers, standing silently, staring at her. And at the head of the road a cluster of horsemen. Heart pounding, Anna rode towards them. “Well, General,” she said. “I must congratulate you on your victory. As well as thank you for saving my life. Or would that be premature?”

  Nogi walked his horse forward so that they could not be overheard. “Saving the life of a beautiful woman is always a pleasure, Countess. When she is also a spy the pleasure grows.”

  “I was never a spy, Your Excellency.”

  “Well, shall we use the word, agent? It comes to the same thing. You cost me some loss of face, Countess.” He smiled. “When I had supposed I was in control of the situation.”

  “And now you can avenge yourself to your heart’s content,” Anna said, gazing at him.

  Nogi gave a little bow. “Indeed, Countess. Have all the charges against you been dropped, as I required?”

  “They have.”

  “Then here is a safe conduct through our lines to General Kuropatkin, in Mukden. Travel quickly, I beg of you, as it is our intention to bring this war to a climax as soon as is possible.”

  Anna frowned. “You do not mean to execute me?”

  “Surprising as it may seem, Countess, the Japanese army, this Japanese army, at any rate, does not make war upon women. I wish you a long and merry life. But...” His eyes twinkled. “I do strongly recommend that you spend as much of it as possible on your estate.”

  *

  The bells in Moscow rang again. But this time they tolled, rather than pealed. “It is a catastrophe, Your Highness,” Apraxin said.

  “Which has been waiting to happen for some months,” Alexei said. “Ever since General Kuropatkin decided to allow Port Arthur to be besieged rather than stake all upon defending it. Well, now we can only attempt to retrieve the situation. Are all the recruits entrained?”

  “All, Your Highness. Less those we had to shoot. But there were not many of those. They soon got the message.”

  “Right. Then let us clear up the situation here. Fetch Reddich, and prepare to move on these Communists.”

  *

  “Port Arthur has fallen!” Vladimir announced. “No government in history has ever suffered such an overwhelming defeat. And at the hands of little yellow men.”

  “Yet the war continues,” Trotsky said. “Have not all the replacements now left Moscow for the east?”

  “The war goes on because the Tsar is too stubborn to admit defeat. Indeed, he is too afraid to admit defeat. But the departure of the troops for the East is good for us. Comrades, our moment has arrived.”

  He looked over their faces. “There are still a large number of troops in the city,” Trotsky pointed out.

  “And this new governor you said would be soft doesn’t look that way to me,” said another of the group, Lev Rosenfeld, who, in common with them all, had adopted a pseudonym, Kamenev. Now he gave Patricia an anxious glance.

  “I still say now is our moment,” Vladimir said. “I have heard from Father Gabon in Petersburg.”

  “Don’t tell me he is going to lead a revolution,” Stalin remarked.

  “He is going to lead a march on the Winter Palace, next Sunday,” Vladimir said. “He says it is going to be a peaceful demonstration, to present a petition to the Tsar. I say it is a futile exercise, but let him do it, anyway. While he is doing that, we will be taking to the streets here in Moscow. Are the barricades all ready, Comrade?”

  “They are ready,” Stalin promised. “And so are the people. Give the signal, and we will turn the Kitai-Gorod into a fortress in one hour.”

  “Hold on just one minute,” Duncan said. “Don’t you think you should give this Father Gabon a chance? If he presents his petition to the Tsar, and the Tsar accepts it and promises reforms...”

  “The Tsar will never listen to a priest and a bunch of muzhiks,” Vladimir declared. “He never did before. Now that he has a son, the chances are even less. You do not know Russia and Russians, Duncan. There is no bowing to the will of the people here, as there is in America. Here there is nothing but tyranny, and tyranny can only be fought by the sword. Josef, I give you your orders. We march tomorrow.”

  *

  “Are you awake?” Duncan whispered. For reply, Patricia squeezed his hand. There were at least twelve other people in the cellar. The place was a fug of odours and muffled sounds. Patricia had experienced all of this before; Duncan never had, and even in the months he had spent in Moscow he had not become used to it. “Follow me outside,” he whispered, and got up, making his way through the sleeping bodies, and signalling Morgan, who was also awake.

  After a moment Patricia followed them. There was no dressing to be done as they slept in their clothes. “Can’t you fuck in here?” someone asked out of the darkness.

  Duncan waited in the alleyway, took her in his arms. “Listen to me, Patricia, this is the most utter madness. All of these people are going to die. And if we are with them when they are taken, we are going to die, too.”

  “They are my friends. My only friends.”

  “That is nonsense. I am your friend. So would all of your family be, if you gave them the chance. Trisha, we have to escape now. Think of little Joe. Are you going to turn him into an orphan?”

  “You do not know what they did to me.”

  “Not even revenge is worth the future of our son, Patricia. I am begging you. All this nonsense about not being able to leave the city is just that, nonsense. We can get out. We can get to Bolugayen. Sonia will hide us there.”

  “We cannot risk Sonia.”

  “Darling, I am prepared to risk anyone and anything, to get you back to Joe. Only one thing is dead certain: if we stay here and get mixed up in this rising, we are going to die. Vladimir’s plan doesn’t have a hope in hell of succeeding.”

  Patricia chewed her lip, and he knew he was winning. Only her innate stubbornness and her loyalty to the Lenins for having led her out of Irkutsk had kept her here this long. While he flattered himself that his loyalty in remaining at her side to take part in a quarrel in which he had no part and did not even fully understand, had earned both the love and respect he had always felt she was withholding.

  “My oath...” she muttered.

  “You were forced to take that oath, Trisha,” Duncan said, and looked past her at Morgan. “Let’s get out of here, Harold.”

  *

  They made their way along the streets towards the marketplace, and became aware of an immense rustle, whispered words of command, the occasional rumble of wheels. “It is the soldiers,” Patricia said. “Preparing an assault.”

  “More likely preparing to resist one,” Duncan said.

  “We should warn the others,” Patricia said.

  “We cannot do that,” Duncan said. “Because then they will know what we are doing and will prevent our escape. Hasn’t it occurred to you that part of the reason they have been keeping you here is simply to use as a bargaining counter with Alexei if the chips go down?”

  “Alexei will never help me again if he discovers I am here.”

  “But your friends don’t know that, Trisha. To them, a brother will always help a sister. They do not understand that there are people who might put duty above family.”

  “We should try to avoid any people, sir,” Morgan suggested. “Certainly we cannot risk approaching the market place. Let’s try one of these side streets.”

  They hurried down the darkened alleyway. Duncan still had no idea how they were going to get out of the city, or how they would be able to travel once they did that. But his first objective was to get as far away from the Kitai-Gorod as possible. They reached the end of the alley, and found themselves on a street. “I can hear the river,” Morgan said.

  “Then let’s get across it,” Duncan said. “There�
�s a bridge just along there.”

  But as they stepped on to the street there came a shout. “Stop there, you people!”

  They turned, to see two horsemen riding towards them. They were indistinguishable in the gloom, but Patricia had recognised the voice. “Reddich!” she muttered.

  Duncan made to seize her arm and draw her into the shadows, but she shrugged him off and instead ran into the middle of the road, drawing her revolver from her waistband. “Death to you!” she shrieked, levelling the weapon.

  But Reddich had also drawn his revolver, and now he reined and fired first. Patricia gave a shriek and fell to the snow. “Oh, Jesus Christ!” Duncan ran forward and knelt beside her.

  “Now you,” Reddich shouted, riding forward.

  “No!” shouted the other man.

  Duncan raised his head, and watched Reddich levelling his gun. Desperately he scrabbled in the snow for his own weapon, but before Reddich could fire there was another shot, and the Okhrana captain reeled in the saddle. “Not really like a Zulu at all, sir,” Morgan said, and fired again. Then he turned his gun towards the second man, but Duncan had recognised that voice.

  “No,” he snapped. “Don’t shoot.”

  Reddich fell from his saddle to the snow with a thump.

  Alexei walked his horse forward, dismounted, and knelt beside his sister. “Patricia!”

  “Oh, Alexei.” She squeezed the hand he gave her. “Where are you hit?”

  “In the shoulder, I think.”

  “She is losing a lot of blood,” Duncan said. “Will you help her?”

  “You’ll hang,” Reddich croaked. “All of you. You’ll hang together.”

  “That man raped me,” Patricia said. “Over and over again.”

  Alexei stood up and turned towards Reddich. “Is what she says true?”

  Reddich struggled to his knees; he had been hit in the thigh. “She is an anarchist,” he panted. “I did what I was commanded to do, by Colonel Michaelin.”

  “His time will come,” Alexei said, and unclipped his holster to draw his revolver.

  “In the name of the Tsar, I place you under arrest, Prince Bolugayevski,” Reddich croaked.

  “In the name of humanity, I execute you,” Alexei said, and squeezed the trigger.

  *

  “Post,” Sonia said brightly. “From Alexei, and Sophie.”

  “What do they say?” Anna asked. She was sitting in one of the upstairs sitting-rooms with Colin, playing chess.

  “Sophie says they have had a lot of trouble in the Ukraine, but nothing has happened on the Grabowski Estate. She seems very happy.” She lifted her head to look at her aunt-in-law, but Anna merely raised her eyebrows. “Alexei has seen the Tsar,” Sonia went on. “And he has obtained a pardon for Patricia — providing she leaves the country as soon as she is able to travel and does not return.”

  “I imagine Duncan will see to that,” Anna said. “But I never thought Alexei would manage it.”

  “He is very popular with the Tsar and Tsaritsa right now, after the way he handled the Moscow uprising.” She gave a little shiver. “So many dead. I wish he had not had to use cannon.”

  “He did his duty,” Anna said. “They were in rebellion against their tsar, in time of war. Oh, dear, he has beaten me again,” and knocked over her king. “He is quite a genius, this boy of yours, Sonia.” Sonia smiled at them both. She had been terrified when she had learned that the famous Countess Anna was returning to Bolugayen, when she lacked the support of Alexei. But this woman was a charmer, whose very presence was a tonic. “And do you mean that thug Michaelin did not object to letting Patricia go?” Anna asked.

  “Michaelin is disgraced, for permitting the massacre of those people in St Petersburg. And the Tsar is making concessions all over the place, in the hopes of stopping all these outbreaks. Alexei says he is even considering summoning a parliament.”

  “His only real hope of survival is to win the war,” Anna said. “When Kuropatkin is at last ready to move, and when the Baltic Fleet gets to the Far East...”

  “When,” Sonia agreed, and went to Patricia’s apartment.

  *

  Patricia sat up in bed. Her arm was in a sling, and Duncan, as ever, was seated beside her, reading to her. “Post,” Sonia announced. “From Alexei.” She told them what her husband had written.

  “Can you travel?” Sonia asked.

  “Yes,” Patricia said. “So, Alexei is a hero, for killing several hundred people.”

  “They were rebels in time of war.” Sonia quoted Anna. “And Alexei saved your life and got you out of Moscow.”

  “I am grateful, believe me. But they were people. Who like me, suffered,” Patricia said. “And you, Sonia. You were one of us, once.”

  “I am the Princess Bolugayevska, now,” Sonia said. “Did Alexei mention any names of those arrested and shot?”

  Sonia looked at the letter again. “If you are thinking of Vladimir and Olga, he says they have disappeared.”

  “Thank God for that,” Patricia said.

  “They are obviously lying dead in a gutter, you know,” Sonia pointed out.

  “They are alive,” Patricia said. “I know they are. We will meet them again.”

  “I hope we do not,” Sonia said. “At least in Russia.”

  “It will be in Russia,” Patricia prophesied.

  “And you will support them again?”

  “They represent the people,” Patricia said. “The people will always win in the end.”

  Sonia looked at Duncan, who shrugged. “I think we’re talking about the future,” he said. “Maybe a long time in the future. Meanwhile, honey, let’s get back to Little Joe.”

  *

  Sonia sat with Anna at the window, and looked out at the snow. “Will you go with them?”

  “No,” Anna said. “They have their own life to live. Besides, Patricia and I have opposite points of view about almost everything. I would like to return to the States for a visit, though, and see my grandchildren. Collins wants to go home, too. But after that...does Alexei say anything about Nathalie?”

  “Only that she has taken up residence in the St Petersburg house and appears determined to stay there.”

  “What will you do if she comes down here?”

  Sonia smiled. “Treat her as an honoured sister-in-law. Unless she acts the fool.”

  “Could you not do with some moral support, at least until Alexei comes home?”

  Sonia squeezed her hand. “I would very much like you to return here and live with us, Aunt Anna.”

  “You do realise,” Anna said. “That I am an utter ogre. So people say.”

  “Every family needs an ogre, Aunt Anna,” Sonia said.

  “It keeps the rest of us on our toes. Besides, I want you here when Alexei gets home.”

  Anna smiled. “Another English Prince Bolugayevski. And do you know, I think he is going to be just as successful as the first.”

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