A Cossack Spring, page 9
‘This annual tradition to take place at the same time every year?’
‘It wouldn’t become an annual tradition if it didn’t,’ John said.
The colonel topped up his guests’ glasses before his own. ‘Next you’ll be telling me this new tradition of the New Russia Company has nothing to do with the celebration of Christ Arisen.’
‘Pure coincidence,’ John concurred.
‘I’ll make the announcement, cancel all leave, and order all officers and men to be within the walls of the garrison two hours before sunset this evening. Officers to dine at nine o’clock. You will join us, Father, Mr Hughes?’
‘After midnight mass, I’d be delighted,’ Father Grigor said.
‘I’ll send an escort to accompany you from the church.’
‘No need. No Cossack would attack a priest. I’ll make my own way here.’
‘As you wish,’ the colonel nodded.
‘I, together with my associate, Mr Edwards, will be delighted to accept your kind invitation, Colonel Zonov.’
The colonel made a wry face. ‘On behalf of my officers and men, thank you for the vodka, Mr Hughes. I’ll try to ensure it is enjoyed in the spirit it was given.’
Hospital, Hughesovka
April 1871
‘Mr Hughes appointed me director of this hospital. I refuse to allow guns on the premises. This is a place of healing, not killing, Alexei.’ Nathan was unequivocal.
‘Just one in the office,’ Alexei pleaded. ‘That way should staff be threatened it could be used as a deterrent.’
‘I’ve never held a gun and I have no intention of doing so now.’
‘Sonya knows how to use one.’ Alexei looked at her. She ignored him and continued to sit, silent and expressionless at her desk. ‘As does Mrs Edwards and Anna. I could leave it …’
‘Absolutely not, Alexei.’
‘The Cossacks have guns.’
‘I’m not a Cossack. If you’ll excuse me, a mother has just brought her sick child in from Alexandrovka. I need to examine the boy.’ Nathan left, crossed the corridor entered the examination room, and closed the door behind him.
Alexei looked at Richard in despair.
‘Leave it with me, sir.’ Vlad stepped in from the hall where he’d overheard the altercation. He was carrying the canvas bag that held his prized Berdan rifle. ‘Dr Kharber doesn’t go into the porters’ dining room, and we often bring our guns in so we can go straight out on to the steppe to hunt when we finish our shifts.’
‘You’ll be going out hunting after your next shift, Vlad?’ Alexei asked.
‘I won’t be free until tomorrow morning, sir. If I’m tired I may rest and delay my hunting trip, but I like to keep my rifle close in case I have a sudden burst of energy.’ He winked at Alexei before disappearing.
‘Does Nathan go into your desk, Sonya?’ Alexei asked.
She glanced at the open door before shaking her head.
Alexei stood in front of the door, blocking the view of the office from the corridor. He handed Sonya a pistol. She placed it at the back of the top drawer behind a stack of envelopes.
‘You’ll tell the others it’s there?’ Alexei whispered.
Sonya nodded.
Glyn Edwards’ house, Hughesovka
April 1871
Praskovia picked up Glyn’s tie and handed it to him. ‘You look very handsome in a dinner suit. Good enough to eat.’
‘I hope not. The last thing I want is a load of Cossacks chewing on me.’ He pulled at his collar. ‘I can’t breathe with anything this tight around my neck.’
‘The Cossacks say if you complain about a tight collar it means you were hung in a previous life.’
‘I didn’t know Cossacks believe in reincarnation.’
‘We don’t. It’s just a saying.’
‘This waistcoat has shrunk.’ He failed to bring the buttons and buttonholes together.
‘That fabric doesn’t shrink. It’s time you took a trip to the shtetl and asked Mr Blumberg to either let out your clothes or make you a new evening suit and waistcoat.’
‘I will, when I find the time.’ He turned to face her so she could tie his bow tie. ‘It’s your fault my clothes are tight. The meals you serve are enormous.’
‘My mother prepares them. If you’re concerned about putting on weight take smaller helpings.’
‘I would if everything didn’t taste so good.’
‘There, finished. The perfect Welsh gentleman.’ She gave his tie a final tweak.
He checked his reflection in the cheval mirror. ‘Has Misha said anything to you about the Jews or the shtetl?’
‘No, but I told you, Misha hasn’t spoken to me since we argued two weeks ago.’
‘What I can’t understand is why he’s planning trouble now. That’s if Alexei’s right and Misha’s plotting to attack the shtetl tonight.’
‘Has Alexei said Misha’s behind it?’
‘Alexei said he was concerned when he saw Misha exercising his men in front of the hospital this morning.’
‘You men aren’t very bright. Misha’s not angry with the Jews – at least not all of them. He’s in love with Sonya and Sonya …’
‘Sonya’s what?’ Glyn was confused.
‘It’s not my place to say.’
‘She’s not in love with Misha.’
‘She isn’t.’
‘She’s in love with someone else?’
‘I think so.’
‘Who?’
‘That’s her business.’
‘As she works in the hospital, I can guess.’
‘You won’t say anything to her, will you?’ Praskovia pleaded.
‘No.’ He poured two glasses of French burgundy and handed her one. ‘You’re trembling. Not working too hard, are you?’
‘I could tell you I have an evil master who whips his servants and makes them work day and night but you know I’d be lying. Go. Enjoy your men’s dinner.’
‘And you?’
‘I’ll pray Mr Hughes’s plan works.’
‘What plan?’
‘It’s no secret you and Mr Hughes are trying to stop a pogrom by getting Colonel Zonov to impose a curfew on a drunken garrison.’
‘Who else knows?’
‘It would easier to tell you who didn’t in Hughesovka.’
‘Do you think the Cossacks in the village will cause trouble?’
‘I think they’ll remember who pays their wages and stay home this evening.’
‘I hope you’re right.’ He finished his wine.
‘You will take care of yourself?’
‘Surely that isn’t a tear?’ He took a handkerchief from his pocket and blotted her cheek.
‘I’ll have to get you a clean one.’ She turned aside so he couldn’t see her face, opened a drawer, and handed him another.
He frowned. ‘You need to rest. You’ll go to bed early tonight?’
‘I was going to wait up for you.’
‘We won’t leave the garrison before dawn unless …’
‘There’s trouble.’ She said what he couldn’t bring himself to say.
‘There won’t be,’ he said with more assurance than he felt. He took his watch from his waistcoat. ‘Mr Hughes will be here any moment. ‘See you in the morning, my love.’ He kissed her. Praskovia’s concern for him was touching and frightening. Frightening because he could no more bear the thought of anything happening to her than she could him, and after Peter’s untimely death, he was all too aware of the fragility of life.
Garrison, Hughesovka
April 1871
At first light a corporal marched to the door of the duty office next to the gate and rapped on it with his knuckles. He waited for permission to enter before opening the door.
‘Colonel Zonov has sent for you, Captain Razin.’
‘Thank you, corporal, dismissed.’
‘Sir.’ The corporal snapped to attention and marched off.
Misha turned, ‘Kirill, fetch Isay. You both know what to do?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Hughes first. Then the Jew. You have your passes?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Kirill handed them to him.
Misha checked the barely decipherable signature. He’d tricked the officer who’d taken delivery of John Hughes’s vodka into signing the documents after he’d sampled more of a pail than was good for his senses.
He returned the passes to Kirill. ‘Your horses are saddled?’
‘Sir.’
‘Go.’
Misha waited until he’d heard the gates open and close, so he could truthfully say he hadn’t seen Kirill or Isay leave the garrison He straightened his tunic, fastened his top button and left the office.
‘Man the doors until you’re relieved,’ he ordered the sentries. ‘No one leaves without a pass.’
The sentries snapped to attention.
John stood between Glyn and Colonel Zonov at the window of the officers’ mess. The officers who hadn’t stumbled to their beds were slumped over the table snoring in an unmelodic chorus. Father Grigor had taken leave an hour ago after promising to pass messages on to Alexei and Richard, telling them to stand their men down.
‘Dawn?’ Glyn said as light began to creep up from the shadowy parade ground below them.
‘It always seems a miracle we’re not sentenced to live in perpetual darkness. Little wonder primitive man worshipped the sun. Well, gentlemen, aside from a few bruised heads and frayed tempers among the men and a couple of black eyes among the officers, so ends an uneventful night.’ Colonel Zonov lifted his glass to John. ‘Congratulations.’
‘There’s still a day and a night to go,’ John reminded.
‘The state the parade ground and I’ve no doubt the barracks are in, it’ll take forty-eight hours to return to the garrison to a military standard of cleanliness and that’s without allowing the injured time to lick their wounds.’
‘If you’ll excuse us, Colonel Zonov, we’ll return to the town. Thank you for a wonderful meal and memorable hospitality.’
‘My pleasure. I’ll order your sleigh.’
John and Glyn waited by the window until they saw one of the company’s junior employees drive John’s sleigh across the yard.
‘He looks lively,’ Glyn observed, ‘I wonder where he hid out last night?’
‘A hay loft judging by the wisps stuck to his back. From the look in his eyes I’d say he managed a few hours’ sleep, which is remarkable considering the racket the soldiers were making.’
‘I’ve never seen a man ride in a saddle on his head before.’
‘We must invite you to our annual open day, Mr Edwards, Mr Hughes.’ The colonel returned with two officers. Glyn recognised Praskovia’s brother.
‘We’ve met,’ he held out his hand. ‘Captain Razin, isn’t it?’
‘It is, sir.’
‘Help those of your brother officers who are unable to walk to their beds, captain, lieutenant,’ Colonel Zonov ordered. ‘I want this room cleared in ten minutes.’
‘Sir.’ Misha snapped to attention.
‘Was that your housekeeper’s brother?’ John asked Glyn as they followed the colonel down the stairs.
‘It was.’
‘He doesn’t look happy.’
‘I doubt any of the officers on duty last night will be smiling,’ the colonel said. ‘But they have tonight and pails of vodka to look forward to.’
John stretched as he looked up at the sky. ‘I’ve a feeling not much work is going to be done on the company sites today.’
‘None would be done at all if your workers had to clear up after a pogrom in the shtetl, Mr Hughes,’ Colonel Zonov replied.
Chapter Seven
Cemetery outside the Shtetl, Hughesovka
April 1871
Alexei hung back with Father Grigor as the last of the Company men left the shtetl cemetery. Rifles slung over their shoulders, they walked through the gate, their silhouettes blending with the soft grey light of dawn as they headed for the copse that concealed their sleighs. After the first vehicle moved out and headed west towards Hughesovka, Alexei and the priest mounted their horses.
‘It’s a fine thing Mr Hughes did this night,’ Father Grigor declared.
‘It would be a finer thing, Father, if the Cossacks and Mujiks learned to live peaceably with the Jews.’
‘It would, Alexei. But what chance is there for different races to live peacefully side by side when there is frequently discord under the same roof.’
‘If you’re thinking of me and my father I can’t argue with you, Father.’
‘But today at least there will be quiet in the shtetl. Would you breakfast with me? I happen to know Brin’s baked more Easter bread than my household can eat.’
As it would take him half an hour to ride to town, Alexei accepted. ‘Thank you.’
‘Looks like the rest of Mr Hughes’s men are leaving my house now.’
Alexei rose in his stirrups to take a closer look. The men who’d spent the night in the priest’s house were climbing into sleighs ranged up in front of the door. He spotted Richard mounting his horse.
‘If you’ll excuse me, Father, I’ll ride ahead and persuade Richard to stay for breakfast as well so we can ride into town together.’
‘Brin would like nothing better than to have two good-looking young men at my table.’
Alexei waved to Richard but his friend was staring north, over the steppe. Alexei looked in the direction Richard was studying. A company sleigh, bearing the unmistakeable fur-coated figures of John and Glyn was heading from the garrison towards Hughesovka. A shot rang out, whistling loud and ominous over the snow-blanketed waste.
One man in the sleigh jerked backwards, the other grabbed him to stop him from falling from the open sided vehicle. Alexei watched Richard rein in his horse and lift his rifle to his shoulder. He spurred Agripin on as a second shot echoed across the steppe.
The steppe outside the Shtetl, Hughesovka
April 1871
The uniformed Cossack swayed in the saddle. Slowly, infinitely slowly, he slumped on his horse’s neck before tumbling headlong to the ground. Richard was aware of hoof beats thundering behind him, but he urged his horse into a gallop.
‘Mr Edwards …’
‘I’m all right, Richard.’ Glyn was holding his right shoulder. Blood poured from a bullet hole, soaking his fur overcoat.
‘Mr Hughes?’
‘I’m fine, Richard, thanks to you, and Glyn who took the bullet intended for me. We’d better see if our assailant needs help.’
Richard turned his horse. The Cossack was lying on the snow in front of his mount. A pool of iced blood soaked the left hand side of his jacket but his eyes were open. He was holding a standard issue, single shot Berdan rifle. Knowing there’d been no time for the soldier to reload, Richard dismounted, grabbed the barrel, and threw it aside as a third shot rang out, scattering the birds from the skeletal branches of a nearby tree.
John’s driver ducked instinctively as he reined in the horses.
Richard looked around. Alexei was galloping towards them, brandishing his rifle. There was no sign of his target. The sleigh drew to a halt. John made Glyn remove his coat so he could check his wound.
‘A flesh wound,’ John helped Glyn fasten his coat.
‘You could have taken my word for it, sir,’ Glyn grumbled.
‘Just making sure you’re not being a hero.’ John left the sleigh and walked over to Richard.
‘A Cossack. Wounded but alive, sir.’ Richard informed John.
Alexei charged up in a thunder of hooves and flurry of snow. ‘A Cossack we don’t have to worry about, unlike the one I missed who rode away. You all right, Mr Edwards?’ He looked anxiously at Glyn who’d remained in the sleigh.
‘Fine, Alexei, no bones broken, just a nick.’
‘If you’re going to get shot, it’s as well to wear a thick coat that can absorb the impact.’
‘Did you recognise the second Cossack?’ John asked.
‘He was too far away for me to make out his features.’ Alexei dismounted and walked over to the man on the ground. ‘But I know this one. He’s Yulia’s brother, Kirill.’ Alexei crouched beside him. ‘Why did you shoot Mr Edwards?’ Alexei jerked his head sideways to avoid the gob of spittle Kirill aimed at him.
‘Get him to my house, so Brin can tend to him. You too, Mr Edwards.’ Father Grigor caught up with them on his ancient mare.
‘Thank you, Father. But as Glyn’s not seriously hurt and this creature doesn’t look as though he’s in imminent danger of dying, I’d rather go to the hospital in Hughesovka, and keep an eye out for that second Cossack on the way.’ John picked up the Cossack’s rifle that Richard had kicked aside.
‘Someone should ride over to the garrison and tell Colonel Zonov about this.’ Glyn took the clean handkerchief Father Grigor handed him and used it to plug his wound.
‘I agree. I’d rather hand over this man to the colonel for punishment after his wounds have been treated than deal with him. Richard, you and Alexei go to the garrison, but keep a sharp look out in case that Cossack is lying in wait,’ John ordered. ‘The last thing we need is more bloodshed. Help me get this scoundrel into the sleigh first.’
Richard and Alexei pulled Kirill to his feet. John’s driver produced a length of leather whipping that Alexei used to fasten Kirill’s wrists behind his back. Father Grigor helped manhandle him into the sleigh.
‘If you’re not too tired, Father, we’d be glad of your company,’ John said. ‘I hate to impose but I would like to know how many people want me dead and this man may be less likely to lie to a man of God than me.’
‘I can try to persuade Kirill to entertain us with conversation on the journey. Mr Hughes.’
‘We’ll take your horse back to your house, Father,’ Alexei took the reins from the priest before mounting Agripin.
‘Remember what I said about keeping a sharp look out,’ John shouted as they rode off.
