“You have never called on me,” Sonia countered. “I am sure you know where I live.”
“I should like to see your home. I will take you there. My car is just round the corner.”
Sonia considered briefly. But she did not feel like being alone, today.
“Quaint,” Nathalie remarked, wandering from room to room. “It cannot require many servants.”
“It does not require many servants.”
“Do you have champagne?” Dagmar asked. “I should like a glass of champagne.”
“Antonina, will you serve champagne, please,” Sonia said, and showed her guests into the drawing room. “But I must warn you, we do not smash our glasses here.”
Nathalie sat down with a sigh of relief to be off her feet. “Father Gregory keeps asking after you.”
Sonia sat down as well. “How interesting.”
“He would very much like you to visit him again.” Antonina served the drinks. “You had better leave the bottle,” Sonia told her.
“You have a busy time,” Nathalie remarked, as the doorbell rang.
“Today is a busy day.” Sonia stood up. “Paul! I did not see you at the service.”
Korsakov wore a khaki tunic over blue breeches and looked almost drab. But as handsome as ever. He kissed her hand. “I did not know you were there. Have you bought yourself an automobile?”
“That belongs to my sister-in-law. Ex-sister-in-law. Come inside, do.” She went to the drawing room door. “Major Paul Korsakov. Her Highness the Princess Dowager Bolugayevska, and the Countess Dagmar Bolugayevska.”
“Ladies!” Korsakov bowed over their hands, and then straightened to look more closely at Dagmar.
“Why, Major,” Nathalie said. “Your name is familiar. Why...” She gave a peal of laughter. “You are the co-respondent!”
Sonia flushed with embarrassment, but Korsakov was not the least put out. “I have that honour, Your Highness.”
“How exciting. You must come to call. I invite you to dinner, Major Korsakov. Oh, please bring your, ah...”
She looked at Sonia. “My fiancée, I think you mean,” Korsakov said. “However, sadly, Your Highness, I am unable to accept your invitation, at least for the next few weeks. My train leaves for Warsaw in two hours.” Antonina gave him a glass of champagne, and he raised it. “I give you, the Tsar, and damnation to the Germans.”
“Absolutely,” Nathalie said, drinking. “But not all the Germans, surely. Is not the Tsaritsa a German, which makes the Tsarevich and the Grand Duchesses at least half-German?”
Korsakov looked confounded, and Sonia stepped in. “How long can you stay?”
“Ten minutes.”
“Then I am sure you ladies will excuse us.” Sonia ushered him from the room. “I do apologise. She is quite impossible. And incidentally, so is Dagmar.”
“She is very good-looking.”
“You would get your fingers burned, at the very least, dear Paul. And I would not entertain you again.” She showed him into the small parlour which she used as a study. “Are you going to have to fight?”
“Of course. I am going to kill a few Germans. Do you know, my dearest, that I am not sure I have ever killed a man? I got to Mukden in time for the big battle against the Japanese, but although I fired my revolver several times I do not know if I hit anyone.”
“You should count that a blessing.”
“I am thirty years old, and a soldier, and have never knowingly killed anyone? That is a confession of failure.” He took her in his arms. “Oh, Sonia, Sonia, I must have you now. I cannot leave for a war and not have you.”
“It would be difficult with them here,” she protested.
“They are there and we are here.”
“You mean...” she looked left and right. “There is no room.”
“Room enough.” He lifted her to sit on the desk, then scooped her skirts up to her waist and pulled down her drawers. She had to raise herself to allow the silk to be drawn from under her buttocks.
Not for the first time with this man she found herself wondering: what am I doing? But he was so enthusiastic and persistent, so sexual in a way she had never known before; every time his hands touched her naked flesh she experienced a sensation she had never known with any other man. And to think that he could do it standing up —but his breeches were round his ankles as were his drawers, and he was pulling her against him as he entered her.
It was at once exhilarating and vaguely frightening. He panted into her ear and she found herself panting into his, then moved her head to kiss him on the mouth as she felt the heat surge into her. “I am thirty-seven, a mother and a divorced woman, and you are yet teaching me things I never knew,” she said.
“I will teach you a lot more, I promise you. When I come back.” He kissed her again. “When I come back, we will be married.”
Sonia returned to the drawing room after he had left. “We need another bottle of champagne,” Nathalie said.
“Are you staying to lunch?”
“But of course. I wish to hear all about your young man. I think he is very attractive. And so does Dagmar. Don’t you, darling.” Dagmar licked her lips.
*
“What are we going to do?” Duncan asked.
“Precisely who do you mean by we?” Patricia countered. “From what I gather America has no intention of getting mixed up in this war.”
“I was thinking of Mom.”
“Mom is in Bolugayen, Duncan, dear. That is five hundred miles from the Polish frontier, which is a good deal further than we are from Paris, which the Germans seem set on taking. And the Polish frontier is a good distance from the Austrian frontier quite apart from the German. Anyway, we are invading them, not them us.”
“I still worry about it. It would be quite in keeping for her to get involved. Anyway, aren’t you worried about Alexei and Sophie?”
“I am quite sure they can look after themselves,” Patricia said. “I am far more worried about Sonia.”
“What harm can possibly come to Sonia? She’s in St Petersburg, isn’t she?”
“She is also a Jew, Duncan. She may have had a permanent exemption from persecution up till now, but in a war all of these things get broken down. I told you about that mob I saw throwing stones at that shop off Piccadilly yesterday. All because it had a German name. Someone told me the shopkeeper had lived in England for thirty years, but the mob was still out to get him. And the police, the English police, the best police in the world, we are constantly being told, just stood by and watched.”
“They did arrest someone for breaking the peace,” Duncan said defensively.
“That was because he inadvertently threw a brick through the window of the shop next door,” Patricia pointed out.
“Well, Britain does happen to be at war with Germany. Russia isn’t at war with the Jews.”
“But should anything go wrong, they will blame the Jews. They always do. And things always go wrong. Duncan, would you object very much if I invited Sonia to come and stay with us for the duration?”
Duncan frowned. “You did that, two years ago.”
“Things are different now. I think she may accept.”
“And how is she supposed to get here? The Germans are saying they control the Baltic.”
“Well...she can go to Sevastopol, and take a ship from there. May I, Duncan?”
Duncan stroked his chin. “Charlie was wondering if I should go home. He reckons the shipping front is going to be pretty busy.”
“Then we’ll take her with us. I think America is probably the best place in the world for her to settle. They don’t persecute Jews in America, either. May I, Duncan?”
“Well, of course you may, darling. If you want to.”
“I’ll do it right away.” Patricia hurried to her desk.
“I’d like to join up.” Joseph had been sitting on the far side of the room, listening.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Patricia said. “You’re only sixteen y
ears old.”
“Well, as soon as I can.”
“You’re not English, or French, or Russian, old son,” Duncan pointed out. “You’re American, and we’re not involved. And, hopefully, we’ll have the sense to stay that way.”
“I’m really half English, and half Russian,” Joseph argued.
Duncan looked at Patricia, as he was inclined to do in moments of stress, certainly when they involved Joseph.
“Yes, darling,” Patricia said. “I think it is very good of you to be so patriotic. And of course you may join up, the very day you are eighteen.” Duncan raised his eyebrows, and she winked. There was no possibility that the war would still be on in two years time.
*
“Ah, Michaelin.” General Bor-Clemenski stood up to shake hands. “Welcome to Petrograd. Or should I say, welcome back to Petrograd.”
“It is a pleasure to be here, Your Honour.” For this meeting Michaelin had left his monocle at home.
Bor-Clemenski gestured him to a chair, and sat down himself, behind his desk. “How was life in Ekaterinburg? A trifle quiet, I imagine.”
“A trifle, Your Honour.”
“Well, I doubt you will find it quiet here. As I am sure you know, there are a great many people in Russia of German extraction, or indeed, who are still German citizens. These have got to be listed, and evaluated. Those who retain German nationality will be interned. Those who merely have German ancestry, will, as I have said, be evaluated. This is not your task, of course, Colonel. Your task will be to investigate any of those who, having been evaluated, may be deemed to require investigation. It is a line of work at which I am told you are expert.”
“I do my best, Your Honour.” But Michaelin’s brain was tumbling. “May I ask how high these evaluations will go?”
“Not as high as I suspect you are thinking, Michaelin. Besides, the Tsaritsa is a Russian citizen. She has already been evaluated, and removed from our lists.”
“I was thinking more of people like Rasputin.”
Bor-Clemenski frowned. “Rasputin is a Russian muzhik.”
“Of course, Your Honour. But I have heard that there are many German ladies among his clientele.”
Bor-Clemenski stroked his chin. “I take your point. But you would be playing with fire. Rasputin is more than ever in the confidence of the Empress. No, you must leave him alone. But there is no harm in investigating his clientele.”
“And the Jews?” Bor-Clemenski raised his eyebrows.
“The Jews have very close links with Germany,” Michaelin said. “Half the Reichstag are Jews.”
“The Reichstag does not rule Germany, Colonel. The Kaiser does that.”
“The Reichstag is behind the Kaiser in this war, Your Honour. They have declared that support, publicly. And you can be sure most Russian Jews support the Reichstag.”
“Hm. However, we need their support here, now,” Bor-Clemenski said. “It is also important that we present the proper image to our allies, the French and the English, who are also riddled with Jews. By all means investigate those you consider possible risks, but I want no wholesale arrests, and certainly no pogroms. In fact, I want no arrests at all without the sort of proof that will stand up in court. And Colonel...” He pointed, “that excludes confessions which everyone will know were obtained under torture. We want the entire country, the entire neutral world, behind us in this war. I hope you understand me.”
“Entirely, Your Honour. I have brought my principal assistant with me. Feodor Klinski. He served with me when I was in St Petersburg before, and has been with me in Ekaterinburg. He is an utterly reliable man.”
“By all means install your own assistant, Michaelin, providing you make sure that he plays the game by the new rules. My rules. Oh, and Colonel, do try to remember, this is no longer St Petersburg. It is now to be called Petrograd. More Russian than German, you understand. Carry on.”
*
“Oh, how I wish Alexei were here,” Priscilla grumbled. “What am I to do, Grandma?”
“I think, what this fellow Levenfisch wishes,” Anna said. “It is most patriotic.”
“And Colin?”
“Send Colin to be with me.”
Priscilla went downstairs to where Colonel Levenfisch and his aides waited, boots shuffling uneasily on the parquet. “Very good, Colonel. You may address my people. Gleb, you will send into the village and inform Father Valentin and Monsieur Boscowski that Colonel Levenfisch will address the assembled male population in one hour; they will have to get them in from the fields. Haste, now.” She looked at Levenfisch. “What are you going to say to them?”
“I am simply going to explain the situation to them, Your Highness, and tell them that their Little Father requires every able-bodied man to volunteer for the colours. I will tell them what a glorious task it is to fight for the Motherland, and what a hideous, cruel and brutal tyranny we are going to fight against.”
“I see.” Priscilla frowned. “Forgive me, but is Germany really a hideous, cruel and brutal tyranny? I was under the impression, just for instance, that Germany takes better care of its working people than any other country in the world.”
Levenfisch looked dumbfounded. He had been dumbfounded anyway at the sight of the Princess Bolugayevska carrying the entire world before her, it appeared, even more than at learning that she was actually an American. And now, to hear her defending Germany! “They are Huns, Your Highness,” he said. “All the world says so. In any event, it is necessary to make your people believe this, or they will not volunteer.”
Priscilla sighed. “I suppose so. But, Colonel, none of our people have ever been to war. They will have to be trained for several months before you can expect them to fight. Is it not possible to have them trained here? We have the harvest coming up in a few weeks, and will need every man.”
“I am sorry, Your Highness. I am required to despatch every man I can raise to Kiev just as quickly as possible.”
“My people are to be trained in Kiev?”
“They will be inducted into the army in Kiev, Your Highness. As for training, well, they will be taught how to shoot their rifles, as soon as there are sufficient rifles, and they will be taught how to march in step, as soon as there are sufficient boots, eh? Ha ha.”
“Ha ha,” Priscilla agreed faintly. “But that is not training.”
“There is no time for training, Your Highness. We have a war to fight.”
The horses kicked muddy water to left and right, but the mounted men were better off than the foot soldiers, who had to slog through the water itself, often up to their calves. To their right the railroad was in constant use, but the trains were carrying food and munitions; there was no room for men. And beyond the railroad, to the north, there was even more water. Up there were the Masurian Lakes, absolutely impenetrable to any large bodies of troops. Up there too was a huge forest, growing around and in places out of the water. In the mist caused by the low cloud from which seeped a steady drizzle, and the immense amount of steam given off by men and horses, there might have been no one for a thousand miles. Apart from this Russian army, tramping steadily to the west.
General Alexander Vasilievich Samsanov drew rein and slapped water from his gloves. “Is this not the most gloomy country in the world?” he asked of his staff. Samsanov was one of those forcefully handsome men, whose face appeared as all nose and moustache and flashing eyes. He had commanded a cavalry division against the Japanese ten years before with great élan, and he was popular with his men.
“It is better than Manchuria,” Major-General Prince Bolugayevski suggested.
“Why, that is absolutely correct, Alexei Colinovich. And this time we know what we are doing, eh? We will cross the border tonight. We are ahead of schedule.”
“And not an enemy in sight,” Alexei murmured.
“Ha! They are all attacking Paris. I do not believe there is more than a division here in East Prussia. And what they have is facing Rennenkampf. Ha ha.”
&n
bsp; Alexei had to suppose his commander was correct in his estimation of the situation. The two Russian armies had advanced across northern Poland together, a huge mass of men, guns and horses, before deliberately allowing themselves to be separated by the lakes. Alexei could have wished there had been more guns, especially that there had been more rifles. There were some infantry battalions where whole platoons were armed with wooden models. To be sure, they had bayonets, and equally to be sure very few of the hastily assembled troops were capable of accurate or even volley fire, but it was a disturbing reflection that they were about to face the most highly trained and disciplined, as well as best armed, soldiers in the world. On the other hand, as Samsanov had suggested, there was no evidence that there was any German strength before them. Every Russian officer knew of the famous Schlieffen Plan, the German device for conducting a two-front war against Russia and France at the same time. This plan predicated that the Germans would fight only a delaying action against the huge but —as they well knew would be the case — ill-armed Russian masses in the east while delivering a knock-out blow to France in the west. Then their full might would be hurled against Russia. And certainly all the immediately pre-war intelligence had indicated that this plan was being carried out, and more important from Alexei’s and Samsanov’s point of view, that here on the East Prussian border what German forces were available were massed north of the Masurian Lakes, facing Rennenkampf’s First Army.
If that were the case, then the Germans had been completely outmanoeuvered, and Samsanov had the chance for glory, as if there were really nothing in front of him he could smash his way through to Berlin, leaving the German army cut off in East Prussia. This would entirely negate the strategical drawback of the forced separation of the two Russian armies, caused by the lakes, which left them quite unable to assist each other if necessary. But the plan was that whichever army was opposed in strength, the other would carry out the advance into Germany.
So why was he feeling so dispirited? Alexei wondered. It could be the weather. It could be the knowledge that at any moment now Priscilla would be commencing labour, with all of the dangers that were involved. Or it could be simply the fact that he was aware that commanding a regiment in the cavalry screen out in front of the army was Major Paul Korsakov. Of course in an army of a hundred thousand men there was no reason for them ever to meet; Korsakov was not senior enough to attend any staff conferences. But just the knowledge that he was there...
The Red Tide Page 15
