Maid of Baikal: A Novel of the Russian Civil War

“Five days, by my calculation,” the Maid shot back. “And we will not require any heavy weapons to take the city. Resistance will crumble from within the moment we attack.”

“I find that extremely difficult to credit,” the Chief of Staff responded with narrowed eyes before folding his arms across his bemedaled chest. “As you may recall, General Lebedev once made similar assertions.”

“I guarantee that the Kazan garrison will be taken completely by surprise,” Zhanna countered. “The Reds will not be aware of our approach because we will travel east of the Volga, far from their own path toward Simbirsk. If Red spies detect us, they will likely take us for advance units of Kappel’s Western Army. Remember, my men have done this before, in our raid on Buzuluk. Once Kazan has fallen, you will see how quickly Trotsky’s feint toward Simbirsk will evaporate.”

“And if your prediction is wrong?” Dieterichs challenged, lowering his gaze. “If the Bolsheviks take Simbirsk, their next target would be Samara, and your regiments would be needed back here for defense.”

“In that unlikely event, Baron Wrangel’s forces could move in from the west to defend Samara. But if we seize Kazan first, it will destroy Trotsky’s last hope of taking Ufa and force him to throw all his might into defending the Kazan-Nizhni Novgorod corridor, where Kappel’s Western Army will press him hard. Gaida will then be free to advance on Moscow from Vyatka, and Denikin from Oryol. And if Yudenich and the Finns come in from Estonia to take Petrograd, the Bolshevik seat of power will be completely engulfed.”

Hearing this, Dieterichs gave Zhanna an exasperated look and rose with difficulty from his chair.

“Zhanna Stepanovna, I have listened patiently to your suggestions, but I must ask you to leave higher strategy to your superiors. We all must obey orders at some level. Even the regent must heed the counsel of his new national assembly.”

“Admiral Kolchak has taken his counsel and I have taken mine,” the Maid answered, still unruffled. “Tell me, general, am I forbidden then to go to Kazan? If so, I intend to appeal directly to the Admiral.”

Dieterichs hesitated and Ned detected a look of caution in the man’s watchful gray eyes.

“No, you are not forbidden, but I ask you to delay for forty-eight hours before you take any action,” he replied. “I will have a decision for you by then.”

“Twenty-four hours and not a moment longer,” Zhanna shot back.

“I will do my best. But take this into account before you do anything rash: knowing your devotion to your Voices, and your resolve to fight the Bolsheviks at every turn, as well as your ability to pull victory out of thin air, I will not seek to stop you. Perhaps the Admiral will choose to take your side. But if you insist on setting your personal ambition and your angelic guides above regard for your chain of command, you will find yourself quite alone. Today, as the crowds clamor for victory over Bolshevism, the people may hail you, kiss your hands, and bring you their sick children to heal. They may turn your head with adulation of the kind that breeds pride and overreaching. But they cannot save you if you stumble. Only the army can do that.”

Ned drew a sharp breath through his teeth. As usual, Dieterichs held the high ground. Zhanna’s proposal was highly risky. Ned shifted his gaze to the girl, who left her seat and held out her hand to the Chief of Staff in parting.

“Don’t think that you can deter me with the notion that I’m alone. Because I know that God is with me, and His love and mercy will sustain me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for me to go out among the people, who honor and trust their Maid even if you don’t.”

Zhanna turned her back on the Chief of Staff and strode out of the office with Ned close on her heel. They were down the stairs and out the front door before she slowed her pace.

“What now?” Ned asked as he caught her arm.

“I don’t know,” she replied in a brittle voice. “I must go and pray on it.”

And without another word, she summoned her Cossack guards, who were waiting nearby.

“Wait, Zhanna,” Ned called out as she stepped away.

“Forgive me, but I can’t stay a moment longer,” she replied with a wistful look as she laid a hand on his arm.

Then, before he could speak again, she crossed the street and headed in the opposite direction from which they had come.

Ned’s Utahn emerged from the shadows of a basement entrance and fell in at his side.

“That girl is trouble,” he said, shaking his head as he watched her disappear around the corner. “Whatever you have to say to her, I suggest you say it from a distance.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing for some time,” Ned answered, drawing a deep breath. “And it doesn’t seem to be working.”

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