Filip went closer, wondering if anything had been decided.
Kral met his eyes. “Word came from General Janin. We’re to turn both Kolchak and the gold over at dawn. And pray they let the rest of us through.”
The night stretched on as final details were arranged and last-minute pleas were made. A few of Kolchak’s entourage managed to escape, but the fate of the supreme ruler was now fixed. SR soldiers from Irkutsk and the guards who had insisted on guarding Kolchak since they’d passed through Polovina two days ago argued about who would have the privilege of escorting the admiral to prison. Japanese soldiers still garrisoned the station, but they made no move to rescue Kolchak. At first light, the supreme ruler, his mistress, and his prime minister left the train and crossed the frozen river to Irkutsk.
Chapter Forty-One
Nadia checked a toddler’s toes. “These two are frostbitten but not severely. Heat a rock in one of the fires, wrap it in a cloth, and keep his toes on it. It will probably hurt as the feeling comes back, so you might have to hold him still. And it may form blisters.”
The child’s mother nodded and went to fetch a rock.
As Nadia tucked the toddler into a sleigh beside his wounded father, she felt a hand on her arm. Nikolai, with a slice of bread for her. “Thank you.” She ripped the bread in two and gave half to the boy.
Nikolai frowned. “If you’re not careful, generosity will kill you almost as quickly as typhus.”
“But you shared with me.”
“I’m your brother.”
She didn’t argue. Nikolai had a point—she needed every bit of food she got. She couldn’t save everyone, but she didn’t want the little boy to end up with the piles of corpses that lined the railway, so she didn’t begrudge him the bread. She moved to the next sleigh, and Nikolai came with her.
“Are the lead sleighs starting?” The sun was up. It would be a shame to waste daylight hours.
“Slowly. Have you heard the news?”
“What news?”
“The Czechs turned Kolchak over to the Social Revolutionaries in Irkutsk. The SRs hate Kolchak.” Nikolai folded his arms across his chest. “I can’t believe they did that. Cowards.”
She knew the legion. They weren’t cowards, but they’d been in Russia a long time. “This isn’t their fight.”
Nikolai huffed. “Maybe not. But we could use their help. They gave us food and medicine and offered to take Kappel and hide him among their wounded until he gets over his frostbite. But they won’t turn and fight the Bolsheviks. That’s what we need—men to hold the line with us, not bandages and tinned bully beef.”
Nadia hurried to tie off the bandages she’d wrapped around a soldier’s frostbitten fingers. “You’ve made contact with the legion?”
Nikolai sighed. “You want to go with them, I suppose?”
“Yes!” Maybe it was the Sixth Regiment, and she could be with Filip again in a matter of hours. “Please, Nikolai, I have to find him.”
The corner of Nikolai’s lips pulled into a smile. “Fine. If you want your watchmaker husband, I’ll help you find him. Anything to get you out of this.” He looked at the desperate bunch of soldiers and refugees, and she followed his gaze. Guilt tugged at her. She was useful here, helping with the wounded. But something far stronger pulled her to her husband.
Chaos greeted them when they reached the nearest station. Throngs of desperate refugees pushed toward the trains, and uniformed legionnaires held them at bay.
Nikolai helped her maneuver through the crowd until she stood before one of the guards.
She used her best Czech. “My husband is in the Sixth Regiment, but we were separated. Can you get me to him?”
The man rolled his eyes. “Yes, you and the last seven women who’ve spoken to me are married to someone in a regiment farther east. Our trains are full. We don’t have room for anyone else. You’ll have to do your best on sleigh or foot.”
“But I really am married to a legionnaire. Sergeant Filip Sedlák. His commanding officer is Karel Kral. If you don’t believe me, send a telegram. His best friend is Dalek Pokorný, and he’s a telegraph clerk—he’ll tell you I’m not lying.”
“Telegrams are for official purposes only.” The guard rattled off the response as if he said it regularly.
“But I helped the legion when they took Omsk in 1918. And I served as a nurse. I can help your wounded.”
“We’ve already moved the wounded farther east. And I’ve heard that before too—everyone wanting to sneak on board is either a nurse or one of the missing grand duchesses. Move on. Our trains are full.”
Nikolai dug in his pocket and tried to put something into the man’s hand. Money. A lot of it.
The legionnaire shoved it back. “I don’t take bribes.”
“Please,” Nikolai said. “She really did marry one of your men. Back in 1918, in the Ukraine.”
“I have my orders. And even if I didn’t, the only way we’d have room for her was if we kicked off one of our own men. You wouldn’t expect us to do that, would you?”
“What about a letter?” She had to let Filip know where she was. “Could you get a letter to him?”
The guard’s face softened. “I can try.”