Filip met Nadia’s eyes. He was a soldier. She knew that. He had to go where he was ordered, but it still made her nervous. What if Orlov found her?
“You’ll look after Nadia while I’m gone?” Filip looked from her to his friend.
Dalek shook his head. “He wants me to come too.”
“Mm. For comic relief, no doubt.” Filip folded his arms across his chest.
“So someone can operate the telegraph, dummy.”
Both men focused on Nadia. She tried to think of something brave to say, but her throat was dry, and she couldn’t brush off the terror the commissar held over her. The Cheka claimed to be the sword and flame of the revolution, and if Orlov found out she was still alive, he would see her sent to her grave one way or the other.
“Is Emil going? Anton?” Filip asked.
“No.”
“The rest of the squad will keep you safe, then.” Filip’s words sounded hopeful, but the rigidity of his muscles suggested he wasn’t completely at ease.
Nor was she. “How long will you be gone?”
Filip looked to Dalek, who shrugged. “Depends on a lot of things. At least a week, probably closer to two. Maybe three.” Dalek paused before continuing. “But I did forge a telegram for Orlov, recalling him to Moscow. I doubt he’ll figure out it’s a mistake until he arrives. So he might be gone just as long as we are.”
The tension that had been building the entire conversation melted away.
“He believed it?” Filip’s jawline was softer now, more relaxed.
“Of course he did,” Dalek said. “It’s a real telegram. It was just sent from across the room instead of from Moscow. I overheard him telling Zeman that they leave in the morning. Which is also when we leave.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pokorný,” Nadia said. He couldn’t have any idea how it had felt to have her would-be executioner sharing her train. Perhaps the nightmares wouldn’t be so bad now.
Dalek smiled. “I should have thought of it sooner.” Then he left.
Filip chuckled as Dalek disappeared. “I’d hate to be Orlov when he reports for duty in Moscow. I wonder how much trouble he’ll be in for abandoning his post as commissar. Maybe they’ll lock him up.”
The prospect of weeks without Orlov—or of being rid of him permanently—made Nadia feel as if she could do some of those fancy flips the Czechs did for the peasants. “I should do something to thank Mr. Pokorný.” But what would she do? She had no money and very few skills.
“I’ll take care of it. For now, I think we should celebrate. Come, I’ve something to show you.”
She took his offered arm and allowed him to lead. “What will you do at the congress?”
“I’m not sure. Kral’s to be the delegate, not me.”
“He’s a lieutenant, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“He does a lot, for a lieutenant. And you seem to do a lot, for a corporal. Given your duties, I’d put Kral as a major and you as either a master sergeant or a lieutenant.”
Filip’s mouth pulled into a slight smile, a movement she found inexplicably appealing. “As a Slav, it was hard to advance very high in the Austro-Hungarian Army. Most of us are fairly low rank, no matter how high we scored on our exams or how well we fought. Some of the Russian officers with us have ranks more in line with their responsibilities.”
“Perhaps that is why the Austro-Hungarian Army has performed so poorly throughout this war.”
One side of his lips turned down in an equally appealing gesture. “They’ve had their setbacks, but they haven’t done so poorly, have they?”
“I suppose not, or the war would have ended by now. But they were kicked out of Serbia twice. And they haven’t made much progress in Italy. And the Russian Army pushed them out of Galicia a few times. I think the only reason they haven’t collapsed is because the German kaiser is propping them up.”
“But they did invade Serbia, eventually, and they stayed. And they’ve held most of their ground on the Isonzo. They lost at Zborov last summer, but the larger Russian offensive failed. I was there. Took a piece of shrapnel in the shoulder.”
She glanced at his shoulder. Was it better to express sympathy that he’d been wounded or gratitude that he was recovered? He was healed, wasn’t he? “Does the wound still trouble you?”
“Sometimes, when the weather changes. I might not be able to do much on the rings if I ever go back to a Sokol club, but I can still shoot and climb.” He led her between two boxcars and helped her over the coupling. “You know a lot about the war.”
“I read the papers, and my father spoke of it constantly. And my brothers . . .” She swallowed back the pain that still overwhelmed her at the loss of both parents and both siblings. “I suppose I wanted to know what was so important that they should die for it.”
“Did you figure it out? Why they died? Why the whole world went mad?” There was a tightness to his words.
Nadia shook her head. “I suppose it had something to do with honor and duty and defending their homeland.”
“Your family’s home, you call it Lavanda Selo?”
“Yes.”