The Prince and the Nun

by Jacqueline George

  Mefist steeled himself against shouting at the man. “Corporal, it is quite possible that Lieutenant Drazevich will not return tonight. If he is not here tomorrow morning, ask your sergeant to report to my office at 07:30 hours. Now, please call in my driver.”

  The driver came at a run. He looked shocked to find Mefist watching over Drazevich with a gun in his hand. “Andrei, I have my hands full with Lieutenant Drazevich here. Do you think you could possibly carry Miss Rebecca and put her in the back of the car? Our friends from SekPol seem to have forgotten to let her bring clothes and shoes when they arrested her.”

  Rebecca had been helped into Therese’s coat, but her nakedness was still on display. “Oh Sir, I’m fine now; I can walk.”

  “Never you mind me, Miss. I won’t look,” said Andrei, “and you’re only a little thing–no trouble at all. Now lean against me–that’s it, and up we go.”

  The cold bit through Therese’s evening dress as she stepped into the night and helped Andrei manoeuvre Rebecca into the back seat of the car. They sandwiched her between Therese and Mefist and started for the castle.

  Andrei carried her all the way into the castle, but once there, she insisted on being put down. She managed a wan smile to thank him. “Never you mind, Miss, and I’m sorry for it. Those SekPol people…”

  The General’s office was lit up, and although it was very late, the orderlies were still at their desks. They jumped up as Mefist brought Drazevich in. The General stood like a statue behind his desk. Drazevich and Mefist stood to attention in front of him. Therese drew Rebecca to one side, and they stood watching. Therese had never seen the General like this. She shivered with cold; Rebecca trembled with both cold and fright.

  “Mefist,” he thundered. “Why isn’t this girl properly dressed? What do you mean bringing her into my office like this?”

  “I beg your pardon, Your Honour. I believe you need to see what has been done to her.”

  The General grunted in distress. He came to stand in front of Rebecca. She could not meet his eyes. “Excuse me, my dear, may I look?”

  She said nothing, but after a moment released the front of the coat that she had been holding together with her cuffed hands. It fell open.

  “Excuse me,” he said again, holding the coat open. “And your back as well? May I see?” He took the coat from her shoulders. Therese could see that the damage to her back was much worse. In places the welts of repeated blows had broken the skin and she was bleeding.

  The General wrapped the coat around her again. “Thank you, my dear. Did he–er–did he do anything else?”

  “He raped me, Your Honour.” She was sobbing again. “In my house and again in the school. It’s still running down my leg.”

  “Oh, my poor girl! Therese, take her away and take care of her. Anything she needs. We can have a chat in the morning if she’s up to it.”

  “General, the handcuffs...”

  “Of course. I was forgetting. Drazevich, the keys?”

  “I–Your Honour...” He could not manage more.

  “Lieutenant Drazevich, where are the keys?” he roared.

  “Beg pardon, Your Honour, I threw them away.”

  The General stared at him in disbelief for a moment and then shouted for an orderly. “Sergeant Armourer to the library at the double. We have to cut these cuffs off. Go! You there, poke up the fire in the library and get them tea and rum quickly! Go on, you two. You don’t need to hear the rest.” He ushered them out of the office and shut the door behind them. Therese stopped to scribble a note to Rebecca’s household and ordered immediate delivery.

  They sat in the dark of the library, warming themselves in front of the fire and sipping tea laced with rum. Therese stretched her hands and feet into the warmth. She could see Rebecca was feeling the heat reach her front and warm her under the coat around her shoulders. She looked secure now. Maria had brought a petticoat so at least she was covered from the waist down. The blouse would have to wait until her hands were free.

  There was a tap at the door. The Sergeant Armourer had come. He was a stocky man carrying a bag of tools. He looked shocked to see Rebecca and embarrassed by her nude breasts. His large, positive fingers manipulated the cuffs.

  “There’s no help for it, Your Honour. We shall have to cut them off. I could try drilling out the lock, but there’s no guarantee that would free them. Perhaps we should cut the chain first and then the young lady can put a shirt on. I’m sure we’ll all be more comfortable that way.” He knelt Rebecca by the hearth and stretched the chain over a log of firewood. Pinning it with a cold chisel, he cut it with a single violent hammer blow. Rebecca hurried to put the blouse on. The sergeant saw her back and winced.

  “We used to flog the men in the old days, Your Honour, so I’ve seen worse, but never anything like that on a young girl.” He shook his head. “Those SekPol people should be put away themselves.” It took Therese and a large screwdriver to hold the cuffs still enough for the sergeant to cut safely. The three of them knelt over the hearth for a long time before both cuffs were released. The sergeant left, apologizing to Rebecca as if he had had some part of the responsibility for her hurts.

  Mefist came to her room straight from the General’s office. She was sitting on the bed, listening to the sounds of Rebecca in the bathroom.

  Mefist slumped into a chair. “What a perfectly bloody night! And it started off so well.”

  “Yes. Yes, it did, but that seems a lifetime ago. You know, we nuns talk a lot about evil and wickedness, but I wonder if we know what we’re talking about. I’ve never seen real, live evil as we saw it tonight. I suppose you’ve seen worse.”

  “Yes, I have, but it was always in places where men were behaving badly anyway, so I suppose it was no surprise. Lost battles, destroyed villages, that sort of thing. I can’t say I’ve ever seen someone who should have been an Army officer and a gentleman behave like that. How is she taking it?”

  “Not badly, considering. She doesn’t seem to mind the beating so much. He must have been using a heavy belt or something–thank God–so there’s more bruising than cutting. Most of all, she minds that she was raped on the family dining table. That hurts. The thought that she and her family will be sitting around the same table every Sabbath. I think I’m going to set Mikhail to making a new table for her; perhaps that would help.

  “What did the General do after we left?”

  “That old man has had some experience in life. You should have seen him. First of all, he brought in an orderly who could take shorthand. Then he got Drazevich to talk, to explain everything. He said he had reason to believe that Rebecca was a partisan spy, so he’d raided her house and taken her for interrogation. On questioning, she had given him the names of all the men in the forest, and then I’d come along and interfered.

  “Then the General made him describe the house and how the raid was conducted. He asked where he’d first questioned Rebecca and Drazevich described a room with a big table in it—it must be the one you were talking about. The General said, ‘And you bent her over that table and raped her. When did you strip her, before or after?’ I don’t know how the General knew the details. Drazevich tried to deny stripping her, and the General just looked at him and said, ‘I presume you’re telling me that Miss Isaacs answered the door wearing not a stitch of clothing?’ And then Drazevich just had to shut up.

  “He had to admit that he had whipped her with a leather belt. He didn’t seem embarrassed by that; I suppose beatings like that are normal for SekPol. He said Rebecca was only a Jew, and that didn’t go well with the General. Drazevich kept saying, ‘But I got the information. All the names.’

  “The General pushed a piece of paper across to him and asked if he recognized the names. He said yes, those were the names. The General stood up and came around the table to him and asked if he thought he–the General, he meant–was stupid. ‘No, Your Honour,’ he said, ‘not at all.’ The General said he was perfectly well aware that every person
in the village above the age of seven could give him the same list, and would do it for nothing because it was open knowledge. Only he hadn’t got his list from the village but from Major Lamoreaux, who had managed to sign up every one of them for the Militia, including Acting Lieutenant Rado Krausov. He said they were brave men, real soldiers, who were living hard in the forest guarding the castle’s northern marches while brothel creepers like Drazevich were running round the village raping his secretary.

  “Drazevich had been shaken when he heard Rado and his men have been signed up for the Militia, but when he understood that Rebecca was the General’s secretary, he knew he was done for. SekPol might be politically able to do what they like with a young Jew–worse luck, I’d say–but he knew there would be no help for him now he’d been caught kidnapping and raping a general’s secretary. The Army would never stand for that, no matter what. He’s sitting in the General’s toilet now, handcuffed to a pipe. He’ll be on the train out to Vienna tomorrow.”

  Chapter 33

  Therese traveled with Rebecca to the village next morning, leaving immediately after breakfast to avoid any chance of seeing Drazevich on his way to the railway station. Rebecca said goodbye on the pavement; she did not want Therese to come inside with her. Leaving the car to wait for her, she walked over to see Jana.

  Jana had a surprise for her. She brought a document, new and still with its envelope, grandly headed Field Commission. Therese read the legal language and finally found that Rado Krausov had been commissioned as an officer in the Imperial Militia with the rank of acting lieutenant. Jana was full of both pride and relief. She had never imagined that filling Drazevich’s boots with cow dung could end like this.

  Back at the castle, Therese found it difficult to face work, and leaving her in-tray, she went looking for Mefist. She found him in Timko’s office, jacket off and hiding behind a mountain of paperwork. Timko went to fetch coffee without being asked.

  “How’s Rebecca?”

  “Not bad, I suppose. Sore, of course. She left blood on my nightie, poor girl. I just don’t know what makes men behave like that. I’m glad he’s gone now.”

  “More or less,” said Mefist.

  “What do you mean? He has gone, hasn’t he? He was going to be on the train this morning.”

  “He escaped. When the car was going slowly, turning out of the wagon park, he jumped out and ran for the forest.”

  Therese was shocked. “My God! What happens now?”

  “Well, it does have a positive side. SekPol HQ will have to agree he’s guilty now. All the evidence is against him, and he won’t be there to ask his friends for help to suppress it. On the other hand, it means we’ve got a desperate man hiding in the forest. Things could be dangerous outside for the next few days. We’ve already warned Rado, and I’m issuing an order that no one is to wander out of the castle without an armed escort. So if you want to take the girls skiing, let me know and I’ll send some guards with you. I doubt he’d attack a group anyway. He’s not armed, after all, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  “I wonder if he’ll survive.”

  “I should imagine so. I would. My guess is he’ll be trying to get to the village tonight for food, and then he’ll leave the valley to the south. That’s what I’d do. I expect we’ll send some small groups of men out this afternoon to lie up and try and catch him coming out of the forest tonight, and we’ll send patrols along the forest edge tomorrow morning to see if we can find tracks. Unless it snows, of course. Then we’ll just give up.”

  “What about the woman he has in town?”

  “Good point. We might drop by and visit her this evening. I wonder if SekPol could be trusted to catch him?

  “Guess what we found after he’d run away? He had nearly twelve thousand crowns in cash in his bag! Can you believe that?”

  “Twelve thousand! But–that’s a fortune! Where could he have found money like that in the village?”

  “I don’t know, but you can be sure he didn’t come by it honestly. The General has given it to Sister Brigitta to put in the Convent bank account for the moment, but he’s sent a signal to HQ asking what to do with it. They’re going to love asking SekPol about it, I’m sure. Even if we end up sending it to his family, it will still have been worth it to make SekPol squirm.”

  “Twelve thousand crowns. It seems so unjust when you think whom he must have forced it from. No wonder the villagers knew just who he was and wanted to kill him. How I wish we could have stopped him before he got hold of Rebecca. It must have been terrible being helpless in the hands of a man like that, quite apart from the rapes.”

  “And don’t think that SekPol doesn’t know just what goes on. I hate these political militias. Pure fascism. They’re taking the country by the throat and forcing their way to the top by sheer terror. There are still decent people at the top–politicians and Army mostly–who think it’s possible to compromise with them. That’s stupid; you only have to look around Europe to see there can be no compromise. You either control them by legal means, or they’ll control everyone by terror. The quality of some of the people they’re getting into city governments, it’s hard to believe. No decent party would let them in. They’re no more than petty criminals!”

  “How’s the war going, Mefist? Is it going to come here? We keep hearing stories.”

  “It’s not good, my love. I think we can probably hold the Carpathian line—after all, Galicia is hard to take but easier to defend. It’s much more difficult to the south and east. I don’t know what will happen there. I expect it’ll come down to politics in the end. I can’t imagine Vienna fighting to the last brick. It’s not their way. There’ll be some sort of conference and a settlement. Where it’ll leave Montebello, I can’t imagine.”

  “Is it true about the refugees?”

  “Pretty much, I believe. There’s quite a lot of them moving across Pannonia. It must be terrible in this weather because the villagers are not being kind. They have little enough anyway. The government’s trying to help, even dropping bread from planes, but it’s difficult. There was one column mistaken for troops the other day and the Coalition planes bombed and strafed them. Apparently it was terrible. Thank God refugees are not coming over Tergov into the valley.”

  “Where are they going?”

  “I don’t think they know. They want to get away from the fighting, and they try to go anywhere they’ve got relatives. If they haven’t, they just head in the general direction of Vienna. What else can they do?”

  “Poor people.” Therese’s heart went out to them. “I’d hate to be sleeping on the road in winter.”

  “Well, if any come into the valley, we’ll try and do something for them. The supply trains mostly go back empty, so we can send them on to Vienna. At least they won’t have to walk.”

  “Perhaps we can find some money for them. What about Drazevich’s money? At least that would be putting it to a Christian use.”

  “You’re full of good ideas, my love. I’ll suggest it to the General. Now, talking of money, you’ve got a problem that puts Drazevich in the ranks of the poor. What are you going to do with the money you and the girls have been earning in the club?”

  “Money we’ve been earning?”

  “Of course. The drinks have been selling very well, and we’ve set the prices to make a modest profit that we can plough back into things for the club. That’s fine, but the money we’ve been playing for the girls is something separate. What do you want to do with it?”

  “That’s nice. I suppose we can buy them Christmas presents. Is there enough for a pendant for everyone?”

  “Of course. If you want to give them diamonds like pigeons’ eggs.”

  “What! Diamonds? How much money is it, Mefist?”

  “Oh, I should imagine it might be fifty thousand crowns by the end of the year.”

  “What! Fifty thousand! I don’t believe it. Where did it all come from?”

  “Out of our pockets, my dear, and i
f you don’t believe it, ask Timko about it.”

  “This is a bit of a shock. I suppose we could divide it between the girls, but what would they do with it? Nuns don’t need money.”

  “Maybe not, but any that decide not to go back to being nuns, they might appreciate their share to help them settle into normal life. Anyway, you still have to persuade the Bishop to let them go back to being nuns.”

  “Yes,” she said thoughtfully. “I wish he would just come out and say yes or no. I’m really disappointed in the way he’s avoiding the whole thing.”

  “Would you like to know what I’d do? I think I’d give him a call and let him know there’s going to be about fifty thousand crowns available. Tell him you don’t know what to do with it because nuns don’t need money—just as you told me. Then when he asks you to send it to him, ask him for a letter you can show the girls. Tell him you don’t think they’d be happy to send the money unless they were sure they’d be welcomed back.

  “Once you’ve got a letter from him, you’re safe. He won’t disown you because you’ll show the letter around and the whole business of how the money was earned will come out. That could make him very unpopular. It gets him involved in the whole thing, and he’ll have to accept some responsibility for you all.”

  “I’m sure some of the girls won’t want to go back. In fact, I’d guess that most of them won’t. I’m certain that Maria will leave.”

  “That’s not a problem. You don’t send the money immediately. Once you’ve got the letter, you know you can go back to the Convent if you want to. And those who don’t want to be nuns anymore can take their share of the money and leave with us when we go.”

  “I don’t like to think of you leaving, Mefist.”

  “Then come with me.”

  “I–I can’t. I have to stay…” A sudden wave of anguish swept over her. She had not thought about what the future would hold for her.

  The Bishop was well-defended at Vojnicky Kapitula. She could not get past his personal office and had to mention the amount of money involved before he would come to the telephone. She had anticipated an argument, but he understood what was required immediately and promised the letter would reach her as soon as the trains allowed. She felt disappointed as she put the telephone down. The Bishop clearly thought that welcoming prostitutes back into the Convent was a small price to pay in return for fifty thousand crowns.