by Holly Green
They returned to the camp at a more sober pace and handed the horses over to the soldier-grooms. Entering his tent, Malkovic flung his cloak onto the chest and shouted to his orderly to bring warm wine. The man appeared, carrying a steaming flagon. Malkovic poured two goblets and threw himself into a chair by the brazier.
‘Sit.’ He pointed to a second chair and she drew it closer and sat opposite him. He handed her a goblet and raised his own.
‘Your health, lion cub.’
‘Yours, Colonel.’
He sat back and stretched his legs to the heat, and she thought she had never seen him so relaxed. The brooding look had vanished from his eyes and his smile, as he looked at her, was no longer sardonic. For the first time she gave words to the feelings that had beset her all these weeks, though only in her silent thoughts. ‘I am in love with this man. He is the only man I shall ever love.’
‘So,’ he said, ‘explain to me how the grandson of a poor Macedonian peasant comes to possess the accomplishments of a gentleman.’
This was close enough to her own history for her to reply with confidence. After all, her real grandfather had risen from lowly beginnings. ‘My grandfather may have been poor, but he was a clever man. When he reached England he saw that there were many opportunities for trade. He began to import goods from Macedonia and Greece – olive oil, herbs and spices, dried fruits – and his business prospered. He bought his own shop, then another and another and in the end he was able to purchase a small country estate and to send his only son to a good school. And in due course he sent me there, too.’
‘Which school?’
‘It is called Harrow School,’ she said. The wine and the warmth after the ride had made her daring.
‘Indeed, I am familiar with the name.’
That brought her to her senses. She knew enough about the school from Ralph to speak of it with some familiarity, but she could only pray that he did not know someone who had actually been there.
‘With the name only?’ she hazarded.
‘Sadly, yes. But I hear it has an excellent reputation.’
‘Oh, yes,’ she agreed and took the opportunity to change the subject. ‘May I ask you a little about yourself? Do you have a family?’
‘A mother and two sisters, one older than me and married, the other still a young girl of seventeen – your age, I think you said.’ Was there a hint of mischief in his eyes?
‘You have no father?’
‘He died ten years ago.’
‘I’m sorry. So we are both fatherless.’
‘And do you have brothers or sisters?’
‘I had a sister, but she died.’ Why had she said that? It had seemed to come unbidden to her tongue.
‘You said your father assisted with the excavations at Troy. Tell me about that.’
Now she was on safe ground and for some time she talked about the treasures her father had helped to unearth. Malkovic showed an easy familiarity with the legend of the fall of Troy and a keen appreciation of how the discoveries made by the archaeologists had turned that from myth into history. She began to understand that, although he had always been destined for a career in the military, his education had been much the same as her own.
‘Did you mind going into the army?’ she asked. ‘Would you rather have done something else?’
‘Mind?’ He frowned, as if the question was one he had never considered. ‘I took it for granted. It had always been my family’s duty and honour to defend our homeland.’
‘Defend?’ she said. ‘Against whom?’
He gave a grim smile. ‘It is hard for you to understand. Your grandparents may have been Macedonian but you have grown up in a country which is one of the Great Powers, safe on your island behind the protection of the Royal Navy. For us it is very different. For centuries we were dominated by the Ottomans. It was only in 1878 that we gained our independence. Now we are squeezed between two great empires, the Ottomans to the south and east and the Austro-Hungarians to the north. That is why our army is so important to us.’
‘I see that,’ she said. ‘But, Sasha …’
His eyebrows flew up. ‘Only my immediate family call me that – to my face, at least.’
Leo dropped her gaze. She had clearly overstepped the mark. ‘Forgive me. That was presumptuous.’
He regarded her in silence for a moment and that look was back in his eyes, as if he was trying to work out a puzzle of some sort. Then he said, ‘Well, why not? You are not subject to military discipline. But only when we are alone, not in front of my officers. You understand?’
‘Yes, I will remember,’ she promised. ‘Thank you!’
She was more careful after that, remembering that intimacy could only lead to her discovery. It still amazed her that he seemed to accept her so easily as a boy; but it occurred to her that perhaps the whole notion of a girl who might dress as a man and do the things they had done together was so foreign to his concept of femininity that it never crossed his mind to doubt her.
At midday the orderly came in with soup and bread and cheese. There were few luxuries available, even after the arrival of the supply train, but he had brought enough for two and it was obviously assumed that they would eat together. When the meal was over Sasha (as she now permitted herself to think of him) rose and took up his cloak.
‘I must go on my rounds. You are at liberty until this evening. Stay here, if you wish, or go, as you choose.’
The tent was warm, and she had a full stomach and they had drunk more wine with the meal. The prospect of an afternoon of leisure was too tempting to resist. She returned to her chair by the brazier, put her feet up on the other one and allowed her thoughts to drift. It was the first real rest she had had since they disembarked at Salonika and it was only now she realised how worn out she was. Thinking back over her conversation with Sasha she remembered her response to his question about siblings. Why had she told him she had a sister who was dead? To deny the existence of Ralph was perhaps sensible, to avoid future complications, but why a dead sister? Then it came to her: Twelfth Night. It had been lurking at the back of her mind for weeks.
‘My father had a daughter loved a man, as it might be, were I a woman, I should your lordship.’
‘What’s her history?’
‘A blank, my lord, she never told her love.’
‘But died your sister of her love, my boy?’
‘I am all the daughters of my father’s house, and all the brothers, too.’
Poor disguised Viola, hopelessly in love. Exactly like herself. On that thought, she drifted off to sleep.
She roused herself when the orderly came in to light the lamps and went back to her own tent to wash her face and comb her hair. When she returned to the Serbian camp she found she was to dine with Sasha and his officers. Used to the formal courtesy with which the Bulgarian officers had treated her in her female guise, she almost gave herself away by sailing into the mess tent ahead of the others. A hand gripped her arm fiercely and she found herself looking into the angry face of Michaelo Popitch.
‘You may be the colonel’s pet,’ he hissed, ‘but don’t give yourself airs. You rank below everyone else here.’
She apologised and dropped back to follow the others, taking a place at the far end of the table. ‘The colonel’s pet!’ Is that how she was seen? If so, did that mean he was known to have favourites, and had she supplanted Popitch? What exactly had he meant by the expression? And what did that reveal about Sasha himself? She watched him all through dinner, but she could see nothing that suggested he was other than a man among men. It was a new experience, to see how men behaved with each other when there were no women present, and she paid careful attention, for future reference. But there was nothing in their behaviour to explain Popitch’s remark.
The next morning she reported to the Serbian camp again and was again invited to ride out with the colonel. In the afternoon she made her way to the hospital tent, guessing that Sophie must be wondering what ha
d become of her. Sophie and Iannis laughed uproariously at her new outfit and teased her that she would turn into a boy if she was not careful, but they did not seem to find her new role particularly strange.
‘It is good that you have found something to do away from the hospital,’ Sophie said. ‘We were very grateful for your help but I should never have forgiven myself if you had contracted typhus.’
Over the next days Leo learned that conducting a siege is primarily an exercise in boredom, especially when the fighting has stopped but peace negotiations have reached a stalemate. She sensed that Sasha was desperate to get away but when she asked why he did not take his Serbians home and leave the siege to the Bulgarians he told her that it was vital to maintain a Serbian presence. She sensed, too, that he was glad to have her company, though she wondered what he saw in her that his officers lacked. She found the clue in their long conversations. They shared many interests in common, and the discussions ranged widely. He was well-read, not only in classical literature but in the works of Shakespeare, which he read in translation, and of German poets like Goethe, which he read in the original. At the other end of the spectrum, they shared a love of the countryside and of country pursuits; particularly anything to do with horses. The morning ride became a regular routine, and in the afternoon, when Malkovic had carried out his inspection, they passed the time playing cards with some of his officers. Sometimes Sasha dictated letters for her to translate into Greek for the commanders in Salonika, but it seemed to her that there was very little in them of much importance and she wondered if it was just a way of justifying her presence.
In the evenings, after dinner, they sat round the campfire and listened to the gusla and the epic songs that retold the history of Serbia. Most of them centred round the reign of King Dusan the Strong, when Serbia had been a proud and independent nation, and the subsequent defeat in 1389 by the Turks at Kosovo Polje, the Field of the Blackbirds. The poems had the power of myths and Leo began to understand their importance in connecting the men around her to a heroic past and justifying their desire to recreate it.
One morning, returning from their ride, she saw that the train of ox-wagons had just drawn up in the road below the hospital. She nudged Shadow alongside Cloud and said, ‘A friend of mine is probably with that convoy. Do you mind if I go and talk to him?’
‘A friend?’ he queried. ‘Another Englishman?’
‘No,’ Leo said, deciding not to embark on an explanation of Luke’s origins. ‘Just someone I worked with in the hospital at Chataldzha. He’s a stretcher-bearer.’
‘Very well, I’ll see you at luncheon.’
Leo wheeled Shadow away and trotted down to the hospital tent, arriving just as Luke was helping to carry a stretcher inside. She tethered the horse and waited for him to come out. He would have walked past her if she had not called, ‘Luke, wait a minute. I want to talk to you.’
He swung round and she was distressed to see how bleak and haggard he looked. For a moment he stared at her, then his jaw dropped.
‘Jeez, Leo! What have you done now? I didn’t recognise you.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ll explain later. Why don’t you come up to the tent? The others can finish off here.’
He looked round, then nodded and followed her up to her tent. Inside, he said, ‘Where’s Victoria?’
With deepening distress she realised that Victoria had not told him of her intentions. ‘She’s gone, Luke. A train came in from Salonika with supplies and took most of the patients from the hospital back. You didn’t know? Victoria went with them.’
His face brightened. ‘Oh, then she’ll be back?’
‘No, I’m afraid not. She took the car and she was intending to find a ship to get her home. I’m so sorry, Luke.’
‘Did she tell you what happened?’
‘She said you proposed to her and she turned you down. It was unforgivable. I tried to warn her, weeks ago, what would happen. I knew you were in love with her and that you would assume she felt the same way. She wouldn’t listen.’
He shook his head sadly. ‘I guess I’m too simple for a sophisticated girl like Victoria. I should have known better than to expect her to marry me.’
‘She should have known better than to lead you on like that.’
He was silent for a moment, then he said, ‘And she went off and left you behind.’
‘That was my choice. She would have taken me with her if I wanted.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I … I was happy here. I didn’t want to leave.’
‘Happy?’ He looked at her, frowning. ‘What’s going on, Leo? You look as if you’ve joined the army.’
‘No, I haven’t done that. I’m working for Colonel Malkovic as a sort of secretary. You may have seen him at Chataldzha.’
‘Tall guy on a big white horse?’
‘That’s him.’
‘So what’s the big attraction?’
It was Leo’s turn to drop her head. The urge to confide was almost overpowering. ‘He’s … I just …’
He leaned forward and touched her arm. ‘Are you in love with him?’
‘Yes, I think I am.’
‘So why are you dressed up as a boy?’
‘Because he doesn’t approve of women anywhere near the front line. If he knew who I was he’d send me away.’
He shook his head at her. ‘I can’t see much future in that arrangement.’
‘Nor can I,’ she agreed sadly.
He heaved a deep sigh. ‘What a pity you and I didn’t fall for each other. We could both have been so much happier.’
She forced a smile. ‘Yes, you’re right. But these things don’t happen to order.’
‘You’re right there!’
‘But we are friends, aren’t we? I should be sad to lose that.’
‘Of course we are. Don’t worry. Victoria’s decision doesn’t make any difference to that.’
‘I’m glad. What will you do now?’
He shrugged. ‘Go home, I suppose. The fighting seems to have died down again at Gallipoli. There isn’t much work to do. You don’t fancy a trip to New Zealand?’
‘I’d love to, one day. But not now. I don’t know what I’m waiting for, but I know I have to make the most of this time. You will keep in touch, won’t you?’
‘Of course I will. Except I don’t know how. I don’t have your address. I can’t really address it to “the girl with the chestnut hair who dresses like a boy c/o Adrianople”.’
Leo laughed, relieved to see him recovering something of his old spirit. ‘And I can’t address mine to “the tall, thin red-headed man who lives in New Zealand”. I’ll give you my home address and you can give me yours.’
She found some paper and wrote her address in Sussex Gardens, then tore it in half and told him to write his on the blank piece. In the hospital mess below a bell rang, summoning the staff to eat.
Leo stood up. ‘My boss will be expecting me back, and you should get some food.’ He stood up too and they looked into each other’s faces. ‘It’s been lovely to know you, Luke. I wish it hadn’t ended like this.’
‘It isn’t your fault,’ he said. ‘It’s been good to know you, too. I wish I could see a happy ending for you, at least.’
‘I’ll survive,’ she said. ‘So will you.’
‘I imagine I will.’ He took her hands and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Take care of yourself.’
‘And you.’
It wasn’t quite the end, because outside the tent he paused to admire Shadow and, remembering their common interest in horseflesh, Leo said, ‘I’ll come and inspect your animals one day.’
‘Make that a promise!’ he said, and walked away down the slope. She watched him out of sight and wondered if she would ever fulfil the pledge.
Chapter 19
Two days later, riding back to camp, they saw the train from Salonika steaming in.
‘More supplies!’ Sasha said. ‘Excellent!’
Back in his tent the orderly had just come in with the warm wine when the guard on duty outside put his head round the tent flap.
‘Excuse me, sir. You’ve got a visitor.’
‘Send him in.’
Malkovic was removing his cloak and Leo was pouring wine with her back to the entrance when a voice behind her caused her to slop it onto the tray.
‘Forgive me for intruding on you. My name is Thomas …’ Leo whirled round and Tom’s words dried in his throat. He gaped at her and she saw him turn pale, as if he was seeing a ghost, or a vision. Seizing the advantage, she did the first thing that came into her head. She marched across the tent and slapped Tom jovially on the shoulder.
‘Good Lord! Tom! What are you doing here, old friend?’ Then in the same tone, remembering that Sasha spoke no English, she continued, ‘Don’t say anything. If you give me away I shall never forgive you. Let me do the talking.’ Turning to Malkovic she went on in Serbian, ‘Sasha, this is an old friend of mine, all the way from England. His name is Thomas Devenish.’
‘Indeed?’ Malkovic’s eyes had the guarded look she had seen when they first met. ‘Please tell him he is welcome.’
‘Tom,’ she said, reverting to English, ‘this is Colonel Aleksander Malkovic. He has been kind enough to give me a position in his entourage. He asks me to say you are welcome.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Tom croaked. ‘What are you doing dressed like that?’
‘Never mind that for the moment. Just be polite to the colonel.’ She was careful to keep her voice light, as if they were exchanging pleasantries.
Tom advanced as if in a dream and extended his hand. ‘How do you do, sir? I hope you will forgive me for intruding without an introduction.’
Malkovic shook hands with him and greeted him in his own language, adding, ‘Will you have a glass of wine?’
Leo handed Tom a goblet and out of force of habit he raised it to Malkovic. ‘Your health, sir.’
Sasha looked past him at Leo. ‘What has he come for? To take you home?’