Maid of Baikal: A Novel of the Russian Civil War

Now, entering the fourth week of April, the spring thaw had begun, with the breakup of river ice and deep mud bringing combat to a standstill. While Siberian troops rested and regrouped, spirits soared at the Stavka and at Liberty House, allowing the Chief of Staff to claim full credit for the Siberian Army’s advances. But while Lebedev basked in his momentary glory, the British Military Mission fretted that the fortnight’s hiatus might give Trotsky and the Red Army the time they needed to mount a long-anticipated counteroffensive. The problem was that the Northern Army had pushed too far to the northwest and the Western Army too far to the southwest, opening a dangerous gap between them. Yet an overconfident Lebedev dismissed any Red counter-attack toward that gap as “no more than a death spasm.”

Nonetheless, in the days following Ned’s return from Novo-Rossiysk, telegraph and wireless intercepts picked up unmistakable signs of a Red Army counteroffensive aimed at exploiting not only the gap between the Western Army and the Northern Army, but also a similar gap between the Western Army and the Cossacks to the south. The standard solution would have been for the Western and Northern Armies to fall back to a defensive line and bring up reserves. But reserves were nonexistent and Lebedev resisted all proposals to withdraw.

After a short discussion, Ned agreed with Neilson’s suggestion to brief Colonel Ward on the threat and to have him present the latest intelligence directly to Admiral Kolchak. Ward had long been concerned over the lack of planning for a Red counteroffensive and the absence of reserves. Beyond that, both Ward and his boss, General Knox, wanted to push Kolchak to augment his Stavka with capable officers from the AFSR staff at Novo-Rossiysk. For this, a talk with General Lebedev would not do; Ward would need a private audience with General Dieterichs and the Supreme Ruler himself.

Neilson agreed to leave Beregovoy at first light to find Ward and propose his ideas. But before leaving, Neilson told Ned he wished to discuss a delicate matter with him.

“It’s about Madame Yushnevskaya,” Neilson began. “She’s been on edge for the entire month you were gone, but lately it’s become much worse. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that Yulia can be difficult to manage. I ought to know, because I recruited her…”

“Is there anything in particular that she’s upset about?” Ned asked, though dreading the answer.

“I don’t think so,” Neilson answered, “though money seems to play a part in it.”

“That’s odd; she’s never brought up money before,” Ned remarked, relieved not to be named as the source of Yulia’s discontent.

“Actually, the troubles started when I made the mistake of moving my things into your room in the main house. She turned me out on my ear,” Neilson confessed with an awkward grimace. “I apologized, of course, and told her I had assumed that room was reserved for the commanding officer. She insisted that I was mistaken and added that, from now on, the commanding officer would sleep in the lodge with the men.”

“I have no problem with that,” Ned lied. “The main reason I moved into the big house to start with was that I was the first one on site and the lodge wasn’t ready for occupancy. The woman is certainly entitled to her privacy, if that’s what she wants.”

“No, I don’t think it’s about privacy,” Ward replied with a discouraged look. “After our encounter, it seemed as if every time I saw her she would find some reason to pick a quarrel with me. At first, it was over money to cover unexpected repairs. Then it was about some damage she claimed the men had caused. And not long after, she berated me when she caught one of our sentries nodding off just before dawn. She wasn’t at all like that when I first met her. I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”

Ned noticed Neilson watching him closely.

“I suppose the war gets to everyone after a while,” Ned answered with a shrug. “Do you think she might be worried that the townspeople don’t like having Allied officers billeted at Beregovoy?”

“That could be part of it,” Neilson conceded. “She did mention some unpleasantness with the locals a while back when she was town.”

“There’s the ticket,” Ned answered, as if the riddle were suddenly solved. “I’ll ask her about it this afternoon and let you know what I learn.”

* * *