The Rebel Daughters

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

T he anteroom for the governor’s office was crowded with petitioners. Having signed away her status, Sophia was required to join a long queue and waited for two days before he would see her. When she was finally admitted, his manner was barely civil. He did not ask her to sit down, and spoke to her in Russian. He could not issue travel orders in her name, he announced, because she had no legal rights.

Ivan had searched the town but there were no horses for hire. A team would only be available on General Zeidler’s authorisation and all papers in the name of a local driver who would take them to Nerchinsk. They must obey his instructions at all times, however offensive, and Ivan must return to Moscow. As a final ignominy, Zeidler ordered a detailed examination of their luggage. The kibitka was unpacked and customs inspectors went through their personal belongings. They ransacked the bags of tea, flour and sugar they had brought from Moscow, helping themselves to whatever they wanted. Only the money Anna had sewn into the hems of her travelling outfit was safe, and she wore it every day she was in the city.

Sofia suffered it all patiently while Anna kept herself busy gathering fresh provisions for Nerchinsk. She went to the market, ignoring the stares of women with baskets as they talked together in their strange Siberian dialect. She bought cooked partridges and Siberian grouse, baked pirozhki and loaves of bread, and left them to freeze outside their window. Vegetables were scarce, apart from cabbage and potatoes, which she hoped would last the journey. When the inspection was over and the carriage repacked, they said a sad farewell to Ivan and left Irkutsk without delay.

Four days later, they reached Lake Baikal, the deepest lake in the world and the last major obstacle before Nerchinsk. Gliding along a narrow track cut through a forest of pines, Anna saw a ghostly whiteness with frozen waves like jagged rocks. The snow was so deep when they came to the crossing point they couldn’t tell where the land ended and the ice began. The lake was famous for accidents, and it was impossible to stop once they were on the move. If the sleigh moved too fast and overtook the horses, they would run out of control and fall through crevices to their deaths.

A man was sent ahead with a boat hook to test the thickness of the ice before horses launched themselves onto the surface. Anna stood facing the wind with a blanket over her face as the Cossack guided his team with care. At times, the ice seemed to bend and crack beneath them like old leather, but the horses were surefooted and they reached the other side in less than three hours.

The lake was left behind and blizzards set in as they headed further east. The horses struggled through the deep snow, and they had to keep stopping so the driver could clear ice from their nostrils. The only food they could buy was raw meat and bitter tea that made Sofia sick. When the kibitka got stuck, they were forced to transfer to a telega, a lighter and more basic vehicle. Anna and Sofia were wedged between their possessions with only a piece of flimsy leather over their heads for protection. The cart had no springs, and every jerk and roll made them groan. The cold pierced through her clothes and Anna’s eyes burned from staring into interminable whiteness. They had reached the end of the world and the landscape was as bleak as her heart. What would they find when they came to their destination?

Anna’s first impression of Nerchinsk was of a derelict village. Grouped along the Ingoda river were Buriat cabins, a few buildings inhabited by mining officials and a high prison stockade with guard posts at each corner. It was a forbidding place and the two women held hands as they went past. Then, as they turned into the main street, a track of frozen mud lined by peasant houses, they heard someone shouting their names.

Anna pulled back the folds of her hood and saw Maria and Katyusha Trubetskoy striding towards them.

‘Thank God, you’ve made it! We had almost lost hope.’ Maria was in tears as they climbed out. ‘It’s a miracle you’re here.’

Katyusha took charge. ‘We rented you a cabin from a local man. Get your driver to follow us. We’ve prayed for you every day. I was afraid you would be stopped in Irkutsk and sent home.’

Anna and Sofia were too overcome to speak. With the telega following, they trudged their way towards a wooden hut and Maria opened the door. ‘Wait until we’re inside and then you must tell us everything.’

The log shack had two rooms and windows made of fish skin that let in little light. Anna glanced doubtfully around the cramped space. There was a wooden bed, a table and a tiled stove with a brick chimney that went up through the ceiling. She hadn’t expected comfort, but the cabin was a quarter the size of her bedroom at home. How on earth were they going to manage once Sofia had the baby?

Anna tried not to show her misgivings and, once they were unpacked, the women sat together drinking tea. The two princesses were very different. Maria was tall and graceful, Katyusha small and vivacious. She was a pretty woman with light brown hair and round eyes. Brought up in Paris, she had married Prince Sergei Trubetskoy in France. Her husband was a leading Decembrist and lucky to escape the death penalty. Katyusha had a homely face and spontaneous manner. Anna liked her at once.

‘Our husbands are working in the same mine as Sasha. He’s in good health,’ Maria informed them. ‘You’ll need to get your documents checked and present yourselves to the commandant. He’s a ghastly fellow called Bernashev.’

‘Maria has him eating out of her hand.’ Katyusha smiled. ‘Our black-eyed princess should have been in the diplomatic corps.’

They did not mention Captain Dashkovy. Was he with the others, Anna wondered? She did not enquire. It doesn’t matter anymore, she thought dully. I’m not here for him.

‘Bernashev insists that we speak Russian. No French is permitted. Katyusha explained. ‘It’s a nightmare because I don’t understand a word.’

‘We have to learn the language!’ Maria exclaimed. ‘Here we are, in Russia’s oriental heart, trying to communicate in French. I’m determined to be fluent by Easter.’

‘I can speak Russian…’ Anna broke off as she looked at Maria. Her friend had lost none of her charm, but her face was riven by strain and sorrow. ‘I’m so sorry about Nicolenka,’ she said softly.

‘If I’d known before Irkutsk, I’d never have had the strength to leave him.’ Tears came into Maria’s eyes and she bit her lip to stop them falling.

‘When our families learn the truth, the tsar will be forced to give way.’ Anna tried to sound more confident than she felt. ‘He can’t keep a child from his mother. You will see your son again.’

‘I agree but it’s best we don’t talk about it.’ Katyusha put her arm around Maria’s shoulders.’ Now you’re both here, we’re stronger already. I recommend you pay a call on the commandant before dark. You may be able to visit the mines tomorrow, but you’ll need his permission. I’ll show you the way to his house.’

*

When they were ushered into Bernashev’s office the commandant sat lounging in a greasy velvet chair behind his desk. He was a stout man with a sallow face, and obviously considered the arrival of the women a nuisance. Without a word of greeting, he pushed a sheaf of papers towards Sofia, ordering her to read them standing up. A heavy keyring dangled from his paunch and the room smelled of tobacco and stale alcohol. Anna leant her head against the wall, watching Sofia’s slight figure bent over the desk. Her sister-in-law looked so pale she was afraid she might faint, but she signed every document.

‘Had I balked at a single paper our journey would have been wasted,’ she murmured as they left. ‘It’s worth the humiliation. We can visit Sasha first thing tomorrow. I told him you’re my companion and I have permission for you to stay until the baby’s born.’

‘But that’s not true.’

‘I don’t care.’ A weary smile touched Sofia’s face. ‘We’re going to see Sasha at last. Thanks be to God.’

They were both exhausted but neither of them could sleep that night. The mattress was infested with fleas so they wrapped themselves in bearskins and lay on the floor, their heads propped against the wall and their feet touching the door. At the first crack of light, they were up, waiting for the guards.

They sat between the two soldiers as they jolted along the icy road to the foothills. The rock face was scarred by cavern-like openings and soldiers armed with halberds and steel pikes stood at the entrances. A woman passing by with a bundle of wood on her back pointed to a portcullis gate, muttering aloud, ‘The secret ones go in there.’

The younger man gave Anna a hand to get down. He seemed polite and she acknowledged him with a smile. The guards accompanied them, their boots crunching in the snow as the gate was opened into a narrow shaft. It was total darkness inside and Anna was handed a burning torch. Fearful that Sofia might fall, she walked cautiously ahead, running her hand along a rough-hewn wall.

The tunnel was narrow and airless. They could see flickering lights in the distance. Then someone shouted from behind and Anna dropped the torch in fright. Clinging to each other in the darkness, they stumbled on, following the sound of picks splitting granite, until they came out into an open space illuminated by burning braziers.

It was so hot the men were stripped to the waist as they worked. Anna heard irons scraping the stone floor and saw bearded, skeletal prisoners in chains. One of them turned and wiped the sweat from his face. His mouth dropped open as he looked at them, and Sofia’s small hand clutched at her throat. For a moment she was motionless, the veins in her neck throbbing beneath her pale skin as she stared at him. Then she darted forwards and fell on her knees. Taking his chains in her hands, she wept as she kissed them before she raised herself up to touch Sasha’s face.

‘My beloved darling,’ she said in French. ‘I’m with you now. I’ll never leave you. Our son will be born here.’

A rough voice ordered them to talk Russian and Anna looked over Sasha’s shoulder. There were other men in the small space and one figure was taller than the others. He had sunken cheeks, a filthy beard and hair white with dust. She thought he was a stranger until he uttered her name.

‘Anna Ivanova.’ Peter Dashkovy cleared his throat with a rasping cough. ‘Are you really here? Do you bring news of Olga Bulgarin?

Slowly, recognition dawned. Anna hadn’t seen Peter since the day they were skating on the Neva. For an instant, she couldn’t believe it was the same man. She had travelled thousands of miles and his first words were of Olga. Her eyes hardened as he took a step towards her.

‘You mustn’t blame Olga.’ Peter lowered his head and his swollen fingers dug into her shoulders. ‘She wanted to come but I forbade her. I love her too much to let her perish in this hellhole.’