The Masters

by Christopher Nicole

  But that was before the visit of Colonel Han. He was a stocky man, who wore a red cross on his arm, but a revolver on his belt. He arrived on horseback, with an escort of a dozen men, who, like their commander, looked around themselves almost in awe at the relatively peaceful house and garden. Jennie received him in Colin’s study, while the family gathered anxiously in the drawing room. When Jennie emerged her face was crimson with anger. “We are to leave,” she said briefly.

  “Leave?” Anna asked. “You mean we are being evacuated?” She could not believe her ears.

  “Not in the sense you hope,” Jennie said. “The Colonel informs me that the Japanese are now within ten miles of the forts on the hill, and that there can be no doubt they will launch a decisive assault within the next few days. He says this house will almost be in the front line, and that he cannot accept any responsibility for our safety if we remain here. He also informs me,” Jennie went on, “that the governor has given instructions that all the outlying houses, whether owned by Europeans or not, are to be turned into fortresses, and defended to the last man. In these circumstances, our lives would clearly be at the gravest risk. Finally, he informs me that we are actually being requisitioned, as there are many hundreds of wounded in Port Arthur, and not enough nursing staff.”

  There was a moment of absolute silence. “He wants us to be nurses?” Sophie was the first to speak. “I would die,” she declared. “I cannot stand the sight of blood.”

  “I am sure they will find you a job to do which will not involve blood,” Jennie said. “I am sorry, girls, but the captain reminds me that Port Arthur is under martial law, and that if we refuse his command he has the power to imprison us. I’m sure you will agree that working in a hospital has got to be better than being locked up in a Chinese gaol.”

  “What of the men?” Anna asked.

  “They will have to work as orderlies.”

  Patricia stood on her other side. “Whatever happens, Aunt Anna, I want to be with you.”

  “What about Colin’s body?” Anna asked.

  “The captain says it must stay here, but it will be guarded by his men.”

  *

  Port Arthur was a vast sea of misery. Most of the people were starving. All of the usual services had broken down, and no garbage had been collected for weeks.

  But in the hospital conditions were far worse. There were insufficient beds, and thus the less seriously wounded were left to lie on the floors. There were insufficient bandages, and open wounds constantly bled. There were insufficient sedatives, and what there was consisted mainly of opium; the sickly sweet stench of the poppy was everywhere, but at least it slightly disguised the other unspeakable stenches. But not even opium could entirely obliterate pain, and there was never a moment when some poor wretch was not screaming his lungs out, either on the operating table or after it. And there was no one to bury the dead. Every day a platoon of orderlies gathered those who had died in the night, loaded them on to a cart, and dumped them in the harbour. This stench was the most appalling of all, and Anna could not understand why plague had not yet broken out. Or perhaps it had, and no one had noticed it.

  Sophie fainted almost the moment they encountered the stench and the blood. The Chinese doctor in charge, Sing Lo-Chou, immediately assigned her to his office, and had her making up lists of the dead and wounded.

  Duncan and Georgei found themselves working as orderlies, together with Nikolai and Rurik and even Sergei the priest, carting bodies to and fro.

  Duncan was totally bewildered by the situation in which he found himself, and was concerned only for his mother, and Trisha. But Trisha was behaving very oddly. He could hardly blame her for that in these circumstances, but she had been behaving oddly before their recruitment, had seemed not the least eager to be alone with him any more, and when they had been together, had permitted him no liberties.

  But his love for her could not help but grow, as he watched her at work. The women, as well as Sophie, together with Elizabeth and Grishka and Collins and the other Western women recruited as nurses, had quickly abandoned their entirely unsuitable western-style dresses, in favour of the universal Chinese garb of loose trousers and tunics, and soft boots worn without stockings, and round caps. Jennie had even gone so far as to cut short her glorious auburn hair. Anna refused to do this but had coiled it and pinned it up beneath the cap. Patricia also would not cut her hair but wore it in a long pigtail, like most young Chinese women, but she could not stop the ends getting stained with blood. Then there was the way they handled the wounded, often up to their elbows in blood, often having to strip men who had been shot in the belly or genitals, without apparently turning a hair. Patricia stayed always at her aunt’s shoulder, doing whatever she was told, touching whatever she was told to touch. He thought she was a true heroine, a true Bolugayevska, and resolved more than ever, when this ordeal was over, to speak to his mother and see what could be arranged. Because surely, when this ordeal was over, convention would be meaningless.

  In fact, it was over sooner than even he had expected. The next morning the governor himself came to the hospital. He greeted the Europeans ladies warmly and then had the brass gong rung for silence. With Colonel Han and Dr Sing at his elbow, he stood in the middle of the huge open ward and addressed them.

  “Our men have fought long and hard against overwhelming odds,” he announced. “They are prepared to continue fighting to the last drop of blood in their veins. But the enemy are too numerous for us, and there is no possibility of any relieving force reaching us in time. I have also to consider the lives of the many thousands of non-combatants in our midst. In this regard I have received a communication from General Count Nogi, commanding the Japanese forces, to the effect that if I surrender now, the lives of all the non-combatants will be spared. But should I continue the fight, then there will be no quarter to anyone within Port Arthur. Patricia, standing next to Anna, gave her hand a convulsive squeeze. Anna squeezed back; she had picked up sufficient Mandarin to understand the gist of what the governor was saying. “In these circumstances,” he went on, “I consider that I have no alternative but surrender.”

  “He seems to be blaming our presence for his catastrophe,” Jennie whispered.

  “I have therefore,” the governor said, “agreed to General Nogi’s terms, which are for the unconditional surrender of Port Arthur at dawn tomorrow morning. To you European ladies who have so gallantly assisted our people in their hour of need, I say this: firstly, heartfelt thanks for your behaviour; secondly, you should return to your homes and stay there, in absolute safety, until a Japanese government has taken over the city, at which time arrangements will be made for your repatriation, should this be what you wish. Again, I thank you.”

  He saluted, looked at them all again, and marched out, followed by Colonel Han. “What about these wounded men?” Jennie asked Dr Sing. “We cannot just abandon them?”

  “That is up to you,” the doctor said. He clearly was considering his own position. “You have heard what His Excellency has said.”

  “Just what did he say?” Anna asked. “That if we remain here we could be in danger?”

  “If you remain here, madame, you will be treated as a prisoner of war. A nurse can be regarded as a member of the armed services. My advice to you is to do as His Excellency commanded, and return to your home, where there will be no doubt as to your status.”

  Jennie and Anna looked at each other. They both knew they wanted to get home, and have a hot bath, and change into some clothing. “We had best round up the men,” Jennie said.

  Rurik and Nikolai and Father Sergei were immediately available, as was Duncan. But Georgei was nowhere to be seen. “He has taken himself off to that brothel,” Sophie said in disgust.

  “He must be got out of there,” Jennie said. “Rurik...”

  “I will go,” Duncan said.

  “You?” his mother demanded.

  “You need Rurik to drive the trap,” Duncan pointed out. “
I will be up at the house in an hour. With Georgei.”

  Anna bit her lip in indecision. As long as he was home by dawn...besides, she did feel safest with Rurik guarding her. “You must come anyway,” she insisted. “Even if Georgei refuses.”

  “I will, Mother,” he said.

  “Rurik, do you still have a revolver?”

  “Indeed, Your Excellency.”

  “Then give it to Mr Cromb.” Rurik handed the gun over.

  “Do you know how to use it?” Sophie inquired.

  “I’ve fired a gun before,” Duncan said, not taking offence. He tucked it into his waistband, where it was invisible.

  Anna held him close and kissed him on the cheek. “I am proud of you,” she whispered in his ear, then he was hurrying into the gloom.

  “Shall we change before leaving?” Jennie wondered.

  “Just let’s get out of here, Mama,” Sophie begged. They went to the stables, where the lieutenant in command peered suspiciously at their Chinese clothes before allowing them to take their trap.

  Father Sergei sat with Rurik on the driving seat, while Jennie and Anna, Patricia and Sophie, Grishka and Elizabeth and Collins crowded into the back; Nikolai rode on the rear step. Rurik flicked the whip and they drove out of the town and up the winding road towards the hills. Progress was slow, because the trap was overloaded and the road was packed with people, mostly soldiers retreating from the forts. They were in a highly nervous and excited state, and some of them even fired at the trap, but without any accuracy. The women all gave sighs of relief when they were able to turn off along the upper road which ran parallel to the harbour, and led into the pinewood. Even here there were soldiers, hurrying back to the port, eager to be non-combatants come dawn. Occasionally there were shots, but in the darkness it was difficult to decide who was firing at whom. “God, to be home,” Sophie wailed.

  “You’ll soon be there, darling,” Jennie said reassuringly.

  They rounded the bend, and the house was almost in sight. But suddenly there were men on the road in front of them, shouting something. “That’s not Chinese!” Anna said.

  “My God!” Jennie cried. “Ride through them!”

  “No!” Anna screamed. “Stop, you must stop!”

  Rurik’s grip tightened on the reins, and the trap slowed. “Ride through them, God damn it!” Jennie shouted. Ten generations of inbred response to aristocratic demands took control of Rurik’s muscles, and he cracked the whip. The trap surged forward, into a hail of fire.

  CHAPTER 4 - THE JAPANESE

  The horses were hit first. They went down with screaming pain and terror, and carried the vehicle with them. The trap ran into the flailing bodies, arid turned on its side, away from the rifles. Anna was hurled through the air, gasped in fear and horror as she plunged into a fern brake beside the road, smashing through the leaves to strike the ground. For a moment she was winded, while she listened to the second volley.

  Now her every instinct was to lie still, but Jennie was back there, together with Sophie and Patricia, and Catherine and Olga and Collins, and Rurik...and perhaps her grandson! She pushed herself up, ignoring the pain arising from the bruises she had accumulated, parted the leaves, and gazed at the trap. Its wheels were still turning, and there were people moving. She dropped to her hands and knees as there was another searing volley. She lay on her stomach and listened to Olga screaming, again and again, “My child! Oh, my child!”

  Anna inched her way forward. “Are you alive?” she asked at large. “Are you alive?”

  “Aunt Anna!” Patricia lay close to her, bruised and dishevelled, her clothes torn. “Oh, Aunt Anna!”

  Their hands touched. “Are you hurt?” Anna asked.

  “I don’t think so. But Mama...and Catherine...” Anna peered into the gloom at the bodies lying by the trap. Olga knelt beside them. “My child!’ she screamed again.

  “Jennie,” Anna whispered. “Jennie!”

  “She’s dead,” Sophie moaned. “Oh, she’s dead.”

  The young woman sat on the ground beside the upturned trap, her mother’s head on her lap. Jennie’s face, exposed because of the short hair, looked curiously youthful, and relaxed. She had been struck in the chest by a bullet, and must have died instantly. Anna heard voices coming closer. “Rurik,” she whispered.

  “I think he and Nikolai are both hit, Your Excellency,” Grishka said. “Elizabeth and Father Sergei too.”

  “Collins?”

  “Oh, ma’am ain’t this terrible?” At least the maid was unharmed.

  There was another volley from close at hand. Anna realised that if she did not do something, they would all be killed. Raped was a more acceptable alternative. She took a deep breath, and stood up. “We are women,” she shouted. “Not Chinese. Russians!”

  Now the men were close enough for her to see their uniforms, undoubtedly Japanese. And at the same time, men who had been fighting, and killing, and watching their comrades killed, for the past fortnight. Once she had defied all the masculine lust in the world. Now she suddenly felt too old to face that again. And there were Patricia and Sophie to think about. Not to mention Collins! “Please,” she said. “You can see that we are not Chinese.”

  They stared at her in the gloom, but the shimmer of her hair was unmistakable. As was that of the two girls. They spoke to each other, in Japanese, made room for their sergeant to come forward. He looked Anna up and down, then made a stiff little bow. “So sorry,” he said, in English.

  *

  It seemed every man in Port Arthur had homed on the Blue Dragon. Presumably they had all dreamed of being able to go there, one day, and had never been able to afford it. Now they reckoned they could take what was offered for free, before the Japanese got into the town. Duncan was jostled to and fro as he joined the throng, pushing its way into the interior of the brothel. It had been thoroughly looted, and Madame Pin had disappeared. Her girls were at the mercy of the men, who were having them everywhere, on the settees and on the floor, standing up and thrown across the bar counters. Duncan pushed his way through the bodies, and down the corridors at the rear. Here the bedroom doors stood open, and here too there had been considerable looting, while the prostitutes were being submitted to repeated rape.

  In the very last room he found Georgei, surrounded by boys. All were naked, and outrageously sexual.

  “Georgei!” Duncan shouted. “Get up!”

  Georgei threw aside the boy lying on his back and rolled over as he sat up. “What’s happened?”

  “Port Arthur has surrendered. Didn’t you know?”

  “I did hear someone shouting that the place had surrendered. You mean it’s true?”

  “Yes. Come on, get up. We must go out to the house.”

  Georgei blinked at him. “The house has been taken over by the army.”

  “It has been abandoned, and our mothers and your sisters have gone back out there. We must be with them, when the Japanese come in.”

  Georgei scratched his head, and pushed away his companion. “What good are we going to be? Do you suppose you and I can take on the Japanese army? Anyway, they’re not going to kill white women. I’ll bet they won’t even rape them.”

  “You can just lie there...”

  Georgei grinned. “Why don’t you join me. Come on, get rid of all those stupid New England pruderies, and have some fun. I’ll teach you the meaning of feeling, cousin.”

  “You are disgusting,” Duncan said. “Our womenfolk are in danger, and all you can think about is sex.”

  “Spoken like a true hero of the American west,” Georgei jeered. “Only you come from the American east. You’re proving nothing, cousin. Go away and be a hero, if that’s your ambition. Leave me alone.”

  Duncan hesitated, biting his lip. Then he pushed his way back out through the throng, reached the front door, and heard a scream. “American!” He turned, and saw a naked Li-su being stretched on the floor by four men, one of whom was between her legs, his pantaloons discarded. “Th
ey kill me!” she shrieked.

  Duncan hesitated, but he suddenly felt an urge to do something violent. He flexed his muscles, then ran at the men. He caught the collar of the one who was actually mounting Li-su, jerking him back with such force that he struck the floor with a crash. The second man, busily playing with Li-su’s breasts, looked up, and Duncan swung his fist, to catch him on the side of the head and send him too to the floor. The third man, who had been holding Li-su’s arms, released these to stand up, and Duncan swung at him as well, but missed, and tripped over the girl. He landed on his hands and knees, and as he did so, Li-su gave another shriek. “Knife!”

  Duncan turned, still on his knees, and saw that the fourth man had drawn a knife from inside his tunic. “Run!” Li-su shrieked, throwing herself at him, and obviously intending to accompany him. But the man caught the flying black hair to pull her back. Duncan drew the revolver from his waistband and fired. He might never have fired a gun at a human being before, but at this range he could not miss. The bullet struck the Chinese in the shoulder and spun him round before he crashed to the floor.

  At the sound of the shot, the pandemonium ceased. But the respite was only for a moment. The three other men now also drew knives, and other men followed their example. “We run,” Li-su suggested again, urgently.

  Duncan did not wish to consider the repercussions of what he had done, save that in the short term they both seemed likely to be lynched. But Li-su knew the brothel better than any of the men. As the Chinese advanced behind their blades, she held Duncan’s sleeve and drew him behind the bar, where a door, disguised to look like the rear counter, opened to give access to a narrow staircase. Li-su dragged Duncan on to this, slamming the door behind her. They went down rapidly, for several feet, while above them the door was ripped open by the angry Chinese, to the accompaniment of much shattering of glass.