Maid of Baikal: A Novel of the Russian Civil War

“I suppose so, though he is unlikely to admit it,” Ivashov said with a scowl as he lifted the glass to his lips. “More probable is that his stable of ambitious young generals thirst for glory. And, having seen the Red Army’s weakness in retaking Kazan only after weeks of slow house-to-house fighting, our young lions hanker to attack the city and chase its Red defenders back to Moscow.”

“How far have they advanced to date?”

“Kappel and the Western Army have moved out from their defenses along the Belaya to take Birsk and Bugul’ma and now hold a line from Sergiyevsk to Chistopol, just across the river from Kazan. At the same time, Gaida and the Northern Army have retaken Izhevsk, Votkinsk, and Yelabuga, and are approaching Kazan from the north.”

“And what of Denikin’s armies in South Russia?” Ned questioned, setting his glass of tea on the corner of Ivashov’s desk. “Might they reach Moscow before our Siberians do?”

“Denikin’s men are well past Oryol by now, some three hundred versts south of the capital, amid great optimism,” Ivashov replied. “One of the Kharkov newspapers reports that certain Donets capitalists have offered a prize of one million gold rubles to the first AFSR regiment to enter Moscow. And General May-Mayevsky vowed in a speech just a few days ago that he and his troops will celebrate Christmas in the Kremlin.”

“And what of the Reds? How have they responded?” Ned inquired, leaning forward with his elbows in his lap.

“Now that White Armies have attacked Sovdepia from three directions, Trotsky has been forced at last into a strategic withdrawal. The Red column that took Kazan only with difficulty after our retreat has withdrawn half its strength to Cheboksary, with the remainder left behind to stall Gaida’s advance. It seems that all available Red troops and munitions are being shifted to the south and east to stand astride the approaches to Moscow.”

“Little wonder then that no one speaks of the Maid any longer,” Ned commented, releasing a deep bucketful of breath that left him feeling half-drained.

“When a moneylender goes missing, do the debtors raise a search party?” Ivashov asked in a scornful tone.

“But Zhanna gave without expecting anything in return,” Ned replied, his head bowed.

“Every good deed receives its punishment,” Ivashov shot back with flashing eyes, but stopped short upon seeing the pained look on Ned’s face. “All right, I’ll say no more,” he concluded.

“Please, Igor Ivanovich, the subject is too painful. ”The only thing left for us is to get Zhanna back.”

“Of course, of course. But until we do, we must accept that the Maid’s victories lie behind us,” Ivashov replied with downcast eyes, “while those of Kappel and Gaida lie ahead. One cannot blame such ambitious men for wanting to press forward. Nor can one fault the public for urging them on.”

“But what of the Stavka and the government?” Ned demanded sharply. “Has no one sought to discover where Zhanna is being held so as to rescue her? And what of ransom? Kolchak is awash in Allied bank credits. He could easily afford it.”

“By several accounts, Zhanna was taken to a monastery outside Nizhni Novgorod soon after her capture. But we don’t know which one; and even if we did, it would be too far from our front lines for a rescue mission. As for ransom, all sorts of emissaries have been sent to negotiate for her release, but the Bolsheviks refuse even to discuss it.”

“Isn’t there anything the Reds want badly enough to make an exchange?” Ned insisted. “Couldn’t we offer them some high-ranking Bolshevik prisoners, or shipments of foodstuffs or medicines, or coal?”

“Guins tells me all those have been tried,” Ivashov answered, rising to pace to and fro across the floor. “Though I distrust the man, at this point it seems clear that Lenin won’t release her at any price, most likely because he intends to use her in some way to discredit the Admiral. And hold her they must, if they are to allay their troops’ lingering fear that the Maid might come back to bite them.”

Ned shifted in his seat to better follow Ivashov’s back-and-forth movements across the room.

“Well, the latter fear hardly seem justified,” he said. “After the debacle at Kazan, I can’t imagine any Siberian Chief of Staff ever putting Zhanna in command of troops again.”

“I suppose so,” Ivashov conceded, and then stopped in his tracks. “But perhaps there’s another, more basic reason why they won’t release her. Perhaps holding the Maid gives the Red official who holds her too much power to let her go.”

“If that’s so, perhaps we need to find some other Bolshevik official, someone with even greater power, who might be willing to deliver her to us for the right price,” Ned suggested.

“Bribery is always possible in Russia, of course,” Ivashov conceded with a sly look. “But none of us has found a suitable beneficiary yet.”