Maid of Baikal: A Novel of the Russian Civil War

“What about a new rescue attempt, then? I’m told both Kappel and Gaida have offered to send volunteers behind enemy lines to find her and bring her back. What has become of that idea?” Ned persisted.

Ivashov let out a loud harrumph.

“Those two have offered it only because they know a rescue attempt would never be approved. When Zhanna needed them at Kazan, neither man lifted a finger. And now, both generals are locked in a high-stakes race to be first to reach Moscow. Make no mistake about it, their eyes are fixed on laurels for themselves alone, not for the Maid.”

“Doesn’t she have any other allies to come to her aid?” Ned insisted. “What about the reform politicians whose programs she championed? Or the capitalists whose factories she liberated? Or the Cossacks atamans whose lands she recovered?”

“Tolstov would ride bareback through hell for her, to be sure, but he and his Cossacks are forbidden to leave Uralsk. As for the other atamans, they are fickle and quick to forget yesterday’s hero. And among the politicians, Zhanna has made too many enemies. The monarchists consider her too liberal, the S-Rs too reactionary. The bishops and priests call her a heretic for conversing directly with God. The officers whom Zhanna cashiered or ordered to the front now take delight in her downfall. They are all quite happy that she is out of the way.”

“I see,” Ned answered, lowering his head and pushing away his empty glass of tea. “You know, if there were a way to save her, I would risk everything to pursue it.”

“Yes, I know,” Ivashov assured him, stopping his back-and-forth pacing to lay a hand on his shoulder.

But before Ned could answer, he heard a knock at the door. An orderly entered to announce that Minister Guins had arrived and would like a word with the lieutenant colonel. Ivashov cast a puzzled look at the orderly, then at Ned.

“Certainly, corporal,” he said. “Please show him in.”

“Please excuse my intrusion,” Guins began upon entering. “I had heard that Captain du Pont was in the building and thought it might be an opportune time to find you both together. I wanted to convey how saddened Admiral Kolchak and I were to hear of the Maid’s capture. I can assure you that our government is doing everything in its power to seek her safe return. You can’t imagine the number of go-betweens who have appealed to the Bolshevik leadership on her behalf. Sadly, no inducement seems sufficient to wrest the Maid from their grip. I’m told the Red commanders fear Zhanna Stepanovna more than any other of our generals. Should she return to the battlefield, they positively dread her debilitating effect on Red Army morale.”

“If that is their main concern,” Ned suggested, “mightn’t the Red leaders consider giving Zhanna safe passage to some distant country in return for our guarantee of her non-return and, say, some sizeable material inducement?”

Guins remained silent for a moment while accepting a glass of tea from Ivashov and sitting in the chair beside Ned. Ivashov stood by the samovar.

“The Bolshevik leaders are fanatics,” the minister replied, uttering the word with the utmost distaste. “They would never allow it. But even if they did, the Admiral would not. He insists on the Red Army’s unconditional surrender and considers the Maid a prisoner of war like any other, to be released upon the cessation of hostilities.”

“A prisoner like any other?” Ned objected, his voice rising. “A general who turned the entire course of the war no less than three times, and whose capture of Kazan made our current advance on Moscow possible?”

Guins shrugged before blowing softly on his steaming tea.

“In the Admiral’s opinion, the Maid’s battlefield victories had little to do with strategy or generalship,” he sniffed. “Rather, they rested almost entirely on her personal charisma and the fanaticism of her followers. Today, larger powers are at work that render her further services unnecessary.”

At this remark, Ivashov wheeled around from where he stood at the samovar, a savage look in his eye.

“I realize, Your Excellency, that it is quite convenient for many of our esteemed colleagues that the Maid has been rendered hors de combat.[47] Perhaps too convenient. I have come to suspect treachery behind her capture. Having investigated the matter, I cannot accept that the skirmish leading to her capture was an opportunistic ambush, or that her attackers were Red Army scouts. I believe that the men who abducted Zhanna were the same Socialist Revolutionaries who sent assassins three times to kill her, who knew her movements in advance, and, having failed to murder her outright, laid plans to snatch her up.”

“What evidence do you have?” Guins shot back with a dark look that made Ned think that he minister might know more than he let on.