‘Who’s Kappel?’
‘The commander of the People’s Army of Komuch in Kazan.’
‘Komuch,’ Paul said. ‘Yes, we’re with Komuch.’
‘My wife’s in Kazan,’ Captain Malinovsky told them morosely as if it were pertinent to the conversation. ‘When the Red Army retreated some local militia commandeered my boat. They didn’t give me time to fetch her and my son.’
‘You’ll want to get back to them then,’ Paul said.
‘Why didn’t they keep this boat for their flotilla?’ Valentine demanded.
‘The engine,’ said Malinovsky. ‘They burnt out the piston rings pushing her too hard. I told them to slow down, Lyena’s an old lady, she needs rest now and then. She’s not used to hurrying. They panicked. I told them we’d burn out her rings if we kept the pace up but they told me to shut up or they’d shoot me.’
‘So the engine won’t work?’ Valentine said, when he could get a word in.
‘Seized up before we reached Sviyázhsk. I got her this far and was waiting for parts when Kappel and the Whites attacked. If they’d taken Sviyázhsk I could have got the parts and gone back to Kazan but the Latvian Riflemen pushed them back…’
‘Latvians?’
‘The Lettish Rifles,’ Malinovsky said. ‘They were with Vacietis, the Volga front commander. Trotsky arrested him when some of his men refused to fight. That’s when the devil started shooting them, every tenth man. After that the Latvians regrouped and stopped Kappel. What was that? Five days ago?’ He passed a hand across his mouth as if a drink might lubricate his memory. ‘I could have gone with Komuch but I didn’t want to leave my boat. The Reds would have stripped her for parts.’
‘She won’t go then?’ Valentine said.
‘I just said, didn’t I?’ Malinovsky complained. ‘I didn’t have the parts or I would have gone back to Kazan before the Reds regrouped.’
‘And if you could get the parts,’ Paul asked,’ how long would it take to fix her? Could you get her fixed before they retake Kazan?’
Malinovsky eyes turned shifty.
‘What’s the point?’ said Valentine. ‘Where are we going to get the parts from? We’ll have to try another way.’
‘Or is she already fixed?’ Paul said, suspecting Valentine wasn’t the only one prevaricating. ‘You’ve already got the parts or you wouldn’t be hiding up this channel.’
‘I’ve got the parts but if I fix her they’d take her off me,’ Malinovsky persisted. ‘Anyway, it’s too late now. You’d never get past the flotilla. They’ve got three destroyers with them now.’
‘Destroyers?’ Paul said in alarm.
‘From the Caspian Sea.’
‘They’re little more than torpedo-boats really,’ Valentine said as if he already knew about them. ‘They were part of the Baltic Fleet and have been upgraded to destroyer class. Admiral Cowan chased them off the Baltic so they were brought down here through the river system.’
‘But they’re fast,’ insisted Malinovsky. ‘We couldn’t outrun them. Or their guns.’
‘What about your wife and son?’
‘I’m going in after the Red Army retakes the city.’
‘And what will you find after Trotsky’s army’s been through? What will they do to her?’
‘Pavel!’ cried Sofya from behind him in the saloon.
‘It’s true,’ wailed Malinovsky. ‘Lenin has told Trotsky to retake Kazan whatever the cost. They’ll bombard the city first, flatten it if necessary. Then there are all the Latvian pigs…’ A tear rolled from one of his eyes and coursed a crooked path through his stubble.
‘Not if you get in first,’ Paul said. ‘You can pick up your wife and son and escape down the Volga.’
‘We’d never get past the flotilla. If they caught us they’d steal her off me. How will I earn a living without my boat?’
Paul was about to say he wouldn’t need to. The Red Army would shoot him. But it was hardly the time to bring that up.
‘We’ll pay you,’ Paul offered. ‘What have you got to lose?’
Beside him Valentine seemed to have been stunned into silence by Paul’s sudden assertiveness. But, contrary to his own expectations, he had got this far. Kazan and the Czechs were only a few miles down the river and he was not inclined to let a rag-bag Red Army flotilla stop him from getting there.
‘I haven’t got any more rouble notes,’ he said to Valentine. ‘What have you got?’
‘Me, old man?’ Valentine said in English, sounding surprised. ‘I’m not the one with the money. Use the gold pieces C gave you.’
Malinovsky’s ears pricked up as if he might have learned an English word or two from British sightseers, ‘gold’ being one of them.
Paul turned back to Sofya. ‘The belt?’
‘What are you doing with it?’ Valentine demanded.
Sofya stood up, looked around the saloon and pointed to a low door beside the steps up to the wheelhouse.’
‘What’s down there?’
‘My cabin,’ Malinovsky said.
She opened it. Paul moved to help her.
‘I’ll do it myself this time,’ she said pointedly, climbing down the steps into the cabin.
Paul heard the chink of more bottles as she crossed the floor of the small cabin and a few moments later she came back up carrying the linen belt.
‘Here,’ she said handing it to Paul, smoothing down her dress, ‘I’m glad to be rid of the thing.’
Paul passed it to Valentine who passed it back before taking the Malinovsky’s arm and steering him aside to negotiate a price.
Paul and Sofya sat on the bank under the trees. The steamer was moored a few yards away. Malinovsky had begun the repairs and was bent double in the engine compartment by the boiler, refitting the odd pieces of machinery that had been lying around. Valentine was standing over him, displaying, as far as Paul could see, either an unsuspected talent for mechanics or a lingering suspicion of Malinovsky’s motives.
In his saloon, looking over his charts of the Volga, the captain had told them what he knew about Kappel and the People’s Army of Komuch. Vladimir Kappel had apparently turned up in Samara after it had been taken by the Legion and the fledgling People’s Army of Komuch in June. He was a White cavalry officer and, along with other members of the old General Staff, had begun assisting Komuch in organising the People’s Army. At first, there was no more than a detachment of infantry, some mounted artillery, and a cavalry squadron of which Kappel was made commander. Although he was a monarchist and didn’t care much for the Social-Revolutionary ideas about military discipline, Kappel had nevertheless accepted Komuch’s conditions of service as long as he was able to fight the Bolsheviks. By July he had been made commander of all Komuch forces. Under him, and with the support of the local Legion detachments, the People’s Army had taken Kazan on 7th August. With the Red Army in disarray it had seemed as if there was little to stop the People’s Army’s march west on Sviyázhsk, but Trotsky’s reorganisation of the Red forces had held Kappel at the Romanov bridge then pushed him back into Kazan.
Sofya, leaning on one elbow on the grass watching them work on the boat asked:
‘Do you think we’ll get through?’
‘Of course,’ Paul said automatically. ‘With luck we can be past the flotilla before they realise what we’re doing. It’ll be dark and the current will help.’
There was no reason, of course, why the current shouldn’t help the army’s steamers, too, but he saw no reason to alarm her. Malinovsky, showing them his charts of the river and had outlined the Red Army’s positions. That had been enough to alarm anyone.