Flight From the Eagle

by Dinah Dean

  He had it sent round to her straight away and went back to the barracks where he sent Josef to enquire where a good carriage and horses could be hired for Irina's journey to Ryazan and tentatively raised the idea of Josef going with her. To his relief, the servant was quite agreeable. Orlov knew he had only to order him to escort her but he much preferred a willing volunteer to a pressed man.

  Kolniev was waiting for him, anxious for advice about the disposal of the horses and carts and Orlov told him to offer them to the Quartermaster, who was probably chronically short of transport. ‘I’ll keep the grey,' he added. 'I've grown used to his peculiarities and I need a mount.'

  The Captain had one or two more problems to raise and when they were dealt with, Orlov went to his room to write his report. He was very wet again and surprisingly tired. As he stripped off his wet uniform, he thought he might just get into bed for a few minutes to get warm before he started to write.

  He was awakened by Josef's return from the town and found that he now only had time to put on his full dress uniform ready to dine with the Governor. Jose had shaken out the creases in the clothes, normally kept at the very botton of his trunk and had pressed them well. He produced a clean, well-ironed shirt and soon had Orlov looking fit to grace the galleries of the Winter Palace. As it was still raining, he had also taken the precaution of hiring a carriage for his master.

  To Orlov's dismay, he found himself the guest of honour at a sizeable banquet with everyone very anxious to meet him and hear his opinion on a variety of matters from whether Smolensk should have been abandoned to whether Prince Murat was as handsome as he was supposed to be. He seemed to spend an inordinately long time shaking the hands of stout patriotic gentlemen and kissing the hands of their stout patriotic wives and pretty patriotic daughters and it took all his patience and charm to answer their questions in an affable and tactful manner when his sole aim was to hurry to Irina as quickly as possible.

  He reached her eventually and had to compromise between a suitable greeting for a public meeting between an affianced couple and the embrace he would have liked to give her, with the thoroughly unsatisfactory result that his kiss was a little too warm for propriety but not nearly as warm as he wanted to make it. He held her by her thin shoulders and scrutinized her face.

  She looked much less tired and strained, her eyes glowing with delight at seeing him. She was dressed in a green silk gown which didn't fit very well as it had clearly been made for a plumper woman but it was modestly low-cut and rustled and clung quite satisfactorily. He could say quite truthfully, 1 think you look beautiful!'

  She coloured and smiled, saying, 'Thank you for your present. It was very good of you to remember,' and that was the limit of the private conversation they were allowed to have until almost the end of the evening.

  The dinner was a good one, well-cooked and served and not too ambitious, but Orlov found the conversation very trying as he was bombarded with questions the whole time and hadn't even the consolation of being able to see Irina as all the ladies were seated together at the far end of the table in the normal provincial way. She was cut off from him by about twenty other people.

  When the ladies withdrew, the Governor invited the men to sample wine and cigars in his study and there were more questions for Orlov which soon led to an argument between some of the guests about Barclay de Tolly's ability as a general. Orlov had heard it all so many times before from serving officers who at least had some idea what they were talking about that he found it very tedious.

  Eventually, he rebelled and asked the Governor point-blank if he might have a few words with Countess Irina as he wished to tell her the arrangements he was making for her journey to Ryazan. The Governor was most understanding. 'My dear boy!' he said. 'Of course! Come. We'll go seek her out.'

  He accompanied Orlov to the salon where the Major was able to draw Irina aside to a sofa in an alcove and talk to her fairly privately. He told her about the carriage and Josef's offer to escort her to Ryazan.

  'Have you seen your new maid yet?' he asked.

  'Yes. Her name is Masha and she's very pleasant and willing. The only thing is ... I've taken her on, but I didn't know what to do about paying her. Madame advised me what she should have and it seems very reasonable, but I didn't like to say that I would have to ask you...' She broke off, embarrassed and Orlov was annoyed with himself for not anticipating this problem. He pulled out a pleasantly weighty little bag of money which he had brought for her and slipped it into her hand.

  'Here, this will solve the problem,' he said. 'That's for you to spend as you please. Josef will see to all the finances of your journey so you needn't worry about that. Pay the girl whatever you think fit and buy any clothes or anything else you fancy. Don't start thanking me!' he added hastily. 'I'd rather you didn't. It only leads to arguments and me losing my temper. When do you think you'll be ready to go on to Ryazan? I don't want to hurry you but I'd like Josef back here before I have to leave Kaluga myself.'

  'I'll go whenever you wish. I'm not ill or anything, you know. Madame seems to think I should be in a decline after my dreadful ordeal and I simply can't convince her that I've never enjoyed myself so much in all my life.'

  'Are you fit and healthy enough for a five-day journey?' he asked. She said she was so he suggested that she should prepare to set off the day after tomorrow. 'That will allow Josef plenty of time to be back here by the first of September, by which time I should have finished what I have to do here and be ready to go to Tula.' 'Tula? Not back to the Army?'

  'Not yet,' he replied, and told her the various duties which had been assigned to him. She took hold of one of his large, capable hands with her small fragile ones and said earnestly, 'It's important, necessary work, isn't it? You won't mind? After all, men have to be trained and you'll be able to see that the cavalry get good horses. You won't mind not being where the fighting is?'

  'I'm not all that fond of fighting,' Orlov assured her, smiling. 'I'm not one of your death-or-glory boys, you know! On the whole, I've a healthy respect for the safety of my own skin and I'm not heartbroken at missing the chance to die a nasty death. Do you think I'm a coward?' He asked the question half-jokingly, but he knew that some people would assume from his remarks that he was.

  'No, just sensible," she replied. 'I know you're not a coward. I've seen you being very brave.'

  He stayed talking to her until it was time for him to go and he told the Governor before he left that Irina would be leaving for Ryazan the morning after next and thanked him and his wife yet again for their kindness. He kissed Irina and murmured, 'Goodnight, Sparrow,' before he released her and was left with the uneasy feeling that her smile was a little too brave and bright to be true.

  The next day was fine and sunny, pleasant after the dismal grey wetness of the previous two but Orlov had no time to enjoy it. Writing his report occupied almost the whole day as he had to collect a great deal of information from Kolniev to incorporate into it, but he finished it before dinner, which he took in the mess with Kolniev. He had included strongly worded recommendations of both the surgeon and the Captain for their efficiency and resourcefulness, giving them most of the credit for the success of the enterprise.

  After dinner, he checked with Josef that everything was in order for Countess Irina's departure in the morning and then drove to the Governor's house to call in the hope of spending an hour or so with Irina but her hosts were holding a soiree. They were very pleased to see him, but he was again in so much demand as an answerer of questions that he had little opportunity for more than a few words with her.

  When he left, she held onto his hand and asked anxiously, 'Shall I see you in the morning?'

  'Oh, my dear love!' he exclaimed softly. 'You don't imagine I'd let you go without coming to see you off?' He remembered Kusminsky's advice and added, 'It's like losing a part of myself. I shan't feel complete until we're together again.' The look in her eyes told him that the surgeon had been right.

 
In the morning, Josef went to fetch the carriage and Orlov went directly to the Governor's house, accompanied by Kolniev and Kusminsky. Sergeant Platov and several other men who were sufficiently mobile asked permission to see the Countess off too and made their way there on foot while the officers went on horseback.

  The hot weather had returned and Orlov felt uncomfortably warm in his uniform, but found himself shivering from time to time, which made him wonder if he was as well recovered from his wound as he had thought. He'd been soaked to the skin three times in the past four days and still felt unaccountably tired.

  The Governor met them in the entrance hall of his house with his usual warm welcome for Orlov which he was pleased to extend to the other two as well. He invited them into his study for a glass of wine while they waited for the Countess to come down and the carriage to arrive. They sat about sipping the wine, which was very good, and answering the Governor's questions as best they could, excepting Orlov who sat silent, feeling ill and unhappy.

  He was worried about Irina. She had put on a brave front since they arrived in Kaluga, but he felt that she was not happy. Although their imminent parting could explain that, he kept remembering Kusminsky's warning and wondered how he could remove any uncertainties she might have about his feelings for her—or maybe he was mistaken about her feelings for him. An awful doubt had entered his mind during the night that perhaps a return to a more normal life had changed her mind about marrying him. Perhaps he had only imagined the expression in her eyes last night.

  Presently, the Governor's wife brought Irina down. She was dressed for travelling in one of her plain, dull dresses but it was brightened by a rich brown velvet cloak, trimmed with gold braid in a military style which she carried over her arm. Orlov thought approvingly that if it was her own choice, she had an elegant taste in clothes.

  He went forward to take her hands and kiss her in greeting. She was pale and although she put up her face to receive his kiss and spoke in her usual composed manner, Orlov was dismayed by the constraint apparent in her voice and the way she kept her eyes down and made no attempt to meet his gaze.

  She was pleased to see Kolniev and Kusminsky and thanked them for coming to say goodbye with more warmth in her voice than when she spoke to Orlov. He stood fretting in the background while the others were talking animatedly. What on earth could he do? He couldn't bear to let her go off like this, with a barrier of some sort between them when it might be months before he saw her again.

  A servant came in to say that the carriage had arrived and that Countess Barova's luggage had been put into it. They all went outside and Irina presented Masha, her new maid, to Orlov. She was a plump, rosy-cheeked girl with a sensible manner and a pleasant humorous face. Orlov felt relieved when he saw her—she was just the sort of maid he wanted for Irina.

  Outside, Josef was standing by the carriage, talking to the driver. It was a new, well-built vehicle, large and comfortable, with four good horses and Irina exclaimed with delight when she saw it, 'What a fine coach!'

  'Better than a farm cart?' asked Kolniev with a grin.

  The soldiers made a little informal guard of honour and Irina went to speak to them and say goodbye. They blessed her and wished her well with a great deal of sentiment, Sergeant Platov wiping away a tear with a fine theatrical flourish. Then she made her farewells to the Governor and his lady, with repeated thanks for their hospitality, then to Kolniev and Kusminsky, who both kissed her cheek and begged for invitations to the wedding.

  Orlov handed her into the carriage, where the maid was already seated. Irina sat in a corner, looking small and frail, her eyes fixed on her hands, which were twisted together in her lap and her lips trembling a little. Orlov stood by the open carriage door looking up at her and was filled with black misery.

  There were a thousand things he wanted to say to her if only they were alone together, but there were so many people; the Governor, his wife, the soldiers, the officers, the post-boys, the driver, the maid, Josef. He gave one desperate look round at their watching faces, then glanced again at Irina's white cheeks and trembling lips.

  He saw her bite the lower lip in an effort to keep it still, then practically flung himself into the carriage and took her in his arms. Ignoring the watching faces, he kissed her with a wild, passionate abandon which held everything he felt for her, making no effort to be careful, or gentle, or controlled.

  And she responded! She returned all that his kiss tried to tell her in full measure. For a long minute, there were no barriers, only a complete exchange of love and trust which left them both shaking with emotion, but utterly confident of their mutual devotion.

  Finally, Orlov tore himself away. Josef closed the carriage door and climbed on the box, the driver whipped up his horses and the carriage drew away at a spanking pace across the town square and away down the main street towards the east gate, a handkerchief fluttering from the window in a last farewell as it turned the corner and passed out of sight.

  Orlov stood staring after it, shivering uncontrollably despite the blazing sunshine, until Kusminsky took him by the arm and said, not unkindly, 'When are you going to admit that you ought to be on sick leave? Come on—bed for you. You're in a fever again.'

  At the same moment, a hundred miles to the north, the Russian army was spreading out across low, rounded hills and narrow, wooded valleys around the village of Borodino, where General Kutuzov, now Commander-in-chief, stood surveying his selected battleground. A great eagle soared and wheeled in the sky high above his head and the sun beat down and sparkled in a myriad points of light from musket and cannon barrels, badges, brassards and bayonets. In the distance, as yet out of sight to all save the eagle, advanced the threatening menace of the Grande Armee.