Floating Madhouse Page 15

  ‘Who says it’s ill-fated?’ Zakharov, cutting in sharply. Baranov spread his hands: ‘Only a flippancy, sir – to see what answer I might get.’

  ‘You’ll get an extremely sharp one from me if I hear further talk of that kind, doctor – you’ll be the one who’s ill-fated!’

  ‘I regret the ill-chosen word, sir.’

  Zakharov had turned his back on him, was saying to Burmin, ‘I’m joining you for dinner, aren’t I, Pyotr Fedorovich? Invitation greatly appreciated. The champagne can go down to my account. Meanwhile Radzianko – Viktor Vasil’ich, you might give our guest a tour of the ship – as one navigator to another. The sooner he can find his way about, the better. Although he’ll want to unpack his gear first, I imagine. Mikhail Ivan’ich, I’ll see you later.’

  * * *

  He’d decided to make the guided tour first, since Radzianko had been available there and then, and left unpacking to the sailor-servant whom he’d found waiting for him outside the cabin. His name was Shikhin. Short, thickset, with a wide face and thick features, on which was a look of relief when Michael spoke to him in Russian, then surprise at having his hand shaken. Michael gave him the keys of his luggage and asked him to hang up what needed hanging and stow the rest in the drawers.

  ‘Papers and so forth in that one with a key in it.’

  ‘Your honour speaks Russian well.’

  ‘Did you think you might have to learn English?’

  ‘Your honour, I simply didn’t know!’

  Straight off the land, Michael guessed. From behind a plough or even possibly in front of one. He’d seen that more than once – a team of peasants doing a horse’s work.

  Radzianko had waited for him in the wardroom, and they started on their tour. Up to the quarterdeck first, which was in fact a raised deck with the after 6-inch turret on it, then past the small after superstructure and down a ladder to the spar-deck. Talking as they went along: abreast the ladder was the port-quarter 6-inch mounting in its casement – there was a pair on each quarter, so that taking the for’ard and after turrets into account Ryazan would have a broadside – either side, not both sides simultaneously – of eight 6-inch. And a dozen 12-pounders: ‘Up there below’ the searchlight mounting, d’you see? – and between the funnels and each side of the bridge – each side of the conning-tower, to be more accurate. Torpedo tubes by the way are above-water for’ard and aft and a submerged tube each side here amidships. Might be better if I left it to Galikovsky to show you his tubes though – and Murayev I’m sure would be delighted to lecture you about his guns and control circuits, so forth. If we make it a tour just of the general layout now?’

  ‘If you have the time to spare.’

  ‘My dear fellow, of course I have.’ A pudgy hand on his shoulder. ‘I have also my skipper’s orders.’ He chuckled; pointed then at the white ship anchored a few cables’ lengths to starboard: ‘How about that?’

  ‘Hospital-ship, I’m told. With a hundred volunteer nurses on board.’

  ‘Well, exactly!’ Crossing to that side for a clearer view. ‘Some are the daughters of noblemen, one hears. How are they going to stand up to being dragged through the tropics and back up the other side!’

  ‘I suppose if they’ve volunteered they must know what’s ahead of them.’

  ‘Bless ’em, I’m sure they do. They’re lay assistants of course, not religiosos. The sisters provide them with some training and they perform the most menial tasks. But the proof’s in the eating, isn’t it? Might be glad of a little diversion now and then. Why, heavens, a few of them one might even know! In fact a young cousin of mine – here, smoke?’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Women might find him attractive, Michael thought. Doubting it, though. And if they didn’t it might account for his apparently rather strong interest in them. A smirk lingered as he cupped his hands to shield the match: then lit his own. Straightening, exhaling smoke…

  ‘Our skipper’s just got engaged – as you’d know as well as anyone – to a girl half his age, a cousin of Admiral Prince Ivan Volodnyakov – and as you’re in some way connected with that family, can you tell me the background to it, the inside story?’

  ‘What an extraordinary—’

  ‘Why? Isn’t it natural that one should have a keen interest in one’s own skipper’s doings? On top of which now – arrival of a foreigner who by all accounts is related to those self-same Volodnyakovs—’

  ‘A tenuous relationship, and very much in the past. All it amounts to is that my mother was the younger sister of General Prince Igor’s first wife. Prince Igor as you may know being Prince Ivan’s uncle.’

  ‘His first wife – was your aunt, therefore.’

  ‘Except that she died before I was born.’

  Raising his eyebrows, blinking, thinking about it… A shrug, then. ‘Complicates the relationship no end, that, doesn’t it.’ Thick shoulders shrugging. ‘But it’s true that our Nikolai Timofey’ich is to marry this little Volodnyakova – huh? And that she’s very pretty?’

  ‘Is this your wardroom gossip?’

  ‘I have to admit I brought it on board with me – at Reval. Nobody’d heard a whisper of it until then. Guards his secrets well – eh?’

  ‘Entitled to, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘I should mind my own business, you mean?’

  ‘Where did you scrape up the information?’

  ‘Oh, in Petersburg. In the officers’ appointments section. A friend of mine who’s working there was telling me what I was in for, sort of thing. Normal enough, surely. But perhaps we should push along with our tour.’

  ‘Yes. Please. Chartroom and bridge, to start with?’

  ‘As you say. Chartroom and bridge.’ Another glance at the hospital-ship as he prised his bulk off the rail. An assessing, re-appraising glance at Michael as he did so. A man to be careful of, Michael thought; understanding Zakharov having his own doubts of him.

  Moving on, meanwhile, past massive ventilators – half funnel-height – abaft and between the funnels: and the tallest of all just for’ard of them. Five of them: a huge amount of draught. But of course, with steam-power for twenty-five knots or more… The height of the foremost one, he realized, would be for its intake to stand clear of the raised foredeck which might otherwise impede the flow of air. Stopping, looking around at this and that: Radzianko had gone on ahead. There was another searchlight here, between the second and third funnels, mounted above a platform with 12-pounders port and starboard: seaboats in davits where there was room for them along the ship’s sides, and a steam-pinnace chained into its timber cradle amidships: and the cutter’s stowage was on the other side to balance that; the main derrick would be used for launching and hoisting them, of course. A call from Radzianko now – ‘Lieutenant Genderson – Mikhail Ivanich – are you coming?’ He was on a ladder that led up to the foc’sl deck, with a screen door into the bridge superstructure at the head of it. Would be duplicated on the other side, no doubt. The port for’ard 6-inch turret was here, its armoured roof on a level with the higher deck, twin barrels trained for’ard. Michael ran up the ladder and ducked inside – into a lobby with iron stairs leading both up and down and Radzianko pointing with his head: ‘Ship’s ikon – a minor one. Big one’s below, main deck amidships. You haven’t met our priest yet, he’s gone over to the Aurora. I suppose you heard—’

  ‘Afanasy. Yes.’

  ‘Well – these things happen… Now then, my chartroom. In action it’ll be noisy, with a twelve-pounder on the bridge gundeck right above here. But – voicepipes to the bridge and to the skipper’s sea-cabin.’ Touching each of them as he spoke. ‘And this one to the wireless room – up there. And that’s about it – as much space as I need, chart folios in these drawers, instruments in the rack there, chronometer inset here, deck-watches and sextant in that cupboard. Electric distance-run register: there’s another on the chart-table in the bridge. So – what more could you want? Oh – the settee of course – on which to rest my
weary bones when necessary. Bridge now?’

  ‘Yes. And conning-tower.’ The conning-tower being the action control position – circular, enclosed in 5-inch armour plating. For the moment though he was still leaning over the chart. ‘If you please… But – next port of call –’ finger hovering, then descending – ‘this one?’

  ‘Dakar – yes, that’s the guess. As yet unconfirmed. Ever been there?’

  ‘Oh, yes. You haven’t?’

  Shake of the head. ‘Never this far south. You might help me find it, eh?’

  ‘It’s straight-forward enough. Don’t hit the Canaries en route, that’s all.’

  11

  He’d written to Tasha, and a covering note to Jane; there’d be a landing of mail before they sailed, and he’d be ready for it. His letter to Tasha was of course in Russian, but hidden in the envelope with Jane’s, and left in the drawer that had a key. He’d more than enough time then to take a salt-water bath and smarten himself up for the evening’s festivities. Smoking a pipe up top before going down to the wardroom he’d heard the distant battleships’ bands playing on their decks – less as part of the accession celebrations, he guessed, than to jolly the crews along in their coaling operations, which Rojhestvensky would be anxious to have finished before the deteriorating weather obliged the colliers to sheer off and anchor. This did in fact happen within the hour; a signal was brought down to Zakharov just as they were starting their meal, announcing the postponement of the Cape squadron’s departure by twenty-four hours.

  ‘Cape squadron?’ Burmin, from the table’s other end. ‘That what we’re calling ourselves now?’

  ‘Why not?’ Zakharov shrugged. ‘As distinct from Admiral Felkerzam’s Suez detachment. The purpose of which must be to take the destroyers by that calmer route, of course. The Cape of Good Hope’s also the Cape of damn great seas – or can be.’

  Burmin had put Michael on Zakharov’s right, and the priest, name of Myakishev, back from his visit to the Aurora, on his left. On Michael’s other side was the chief engineer, Arkoleyev – tall, red-haired, small eyes rather close together. Zakharov was saying, about Felkerzam, ‘He’s transferring his flag to the Sissoy, and taking with him Navarin, Svetlana, Jemchug, Izumrud and Almaz. Several of the auxiliaries as well. The Oslyabya, however, remains with us.’

  Radzianko asked, in the lazy tone of voice that matched his sleekness, ‘For us, sir, the next stop is Dakar?’

  ‘I can’t see there’s much alternative.’ Zakharov speared a meat-ball, tasted it appreciatively. ‘Any port at any appropriate distance worth stopping at or large enough to accommodate us all. Not this side of Cape Verde. And the distance – Mikhail Ivan’ich, how far to Dakar, would you say?’

  ‘About fifteen hundred miles.’ A glance at Radzianko: ‘Wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘Or a little more.’

  ‘I suppose the admiral keeps his intentions to himself as he does because of the English putting pressure on – well, in this case on the French, but on the Germans, Portuguese, anyone – to shut us out of any port we want to make use of.’ Burmin stared down the table at his captain, seemingly taking care not to look at Michael. ‘Isn’t that the reason?’

  ‘It’s how he chooses to handle it. He confers with his chief of staff, they reach a decision and when they see fit they tell us about it. Who needs to know before that – except the Japanese, and the world’s press, who think they need to… Come on, let’s have some more champagne!’

  Later – after the formal toasts to the Tsar and every member of his family, and to Russia, and the Second Pacific Squadron and the gallant defenders of Port Arthur – he drew Michael aside. ‘A personal question, Mikhail Ivan’ich. Not of any great consequence now, only to satisfy my curiosity. Why did Prince Igor want me to bring you along with us?’

  ‘Didn’t he give you a reason?’

  ‘Several. And this afternoon the admiral trotted out the story of your father saving the old man’s life-which of course I’d heard before, but frankly I don’t believe has much to do with this. Prince Igor never even mentioned it. One of the things he said was it would be a fine opportunity for you – oh, and generalities such as that diplomatic complications – your country’s alliance with our enemies, he was referring to – shouldn’t be allowed to interfere with long-standing friendships. And that you and I should get to know each other, to our mutual advantage – both of us being what he called “rising stars” in our respective navies. Well – whatever maggots were or are working in that old brain, I’d rather please him than annoy him – seeing his closeness to His Majesty, and that in purely naval matters Prince Ivan has great influence – and that Igor is my prospective father-in-law. It won’t have escaped you that these aspects are important to me personally; in fact, that I’m taking advantage of a system of which I strongly disapprove – which I admit I’d fight tooth and nail if ever I found myself, well, in Prince Ivan’s position, for instance. Not that one’s ambitions could reach quite that far. I’m being completely frank with you, you see. But there was another thing he mentioned, Mikhail Ivan’ich – that he suspected my betrothal to his daughter might have come as a shock to you – your little cousin throwing herself away on a man so much older than herself.’

  ‘Little cousin?’

  ‘No – not cousins, are you, but—’

  ‘And throwing herself away?’

  A hard stare: then a nod. ‘Point taken. A manner of speech, was all. If I may continue, though: according to her father, you and she have been virtually older brother and baby sister – despite having seen each other quite infrequently over the years? I was treated to an account of some fox-hunt in England when she was still a child, and – oh, some reminiscence reflecting your concern for her, to which she took exception, for some reason. Well, she’s still very young, of course, I realize that; whereas I – I’m in my forties, as is fairly obvious—’

  ‘Never considered marriage before this?’

  ‘No. One reason and another… Well – I have, but circumstances were not – conducive…’ A shrug. ‘Neither here nor there, however. The fact is that I will marry Natasha – she looks like her mother, and isn’t she a handsome woman?’

  ‘Anna Feodorovna. Oh, yes…’

  ‘Closer to one’s own age-group, too. In fact almost precisely one’s own age. But there you are – and it allows one a glimpse of how the years will treat Natasha. As I said to you earlier, I’m a very lucky man. And I can assure you I won’t let her down. I say this because of your own brotherly concern for her, as remarked on by her father: which brings us back to the main point, that I very much hope you will be able to reconcile yourself to the difference in our ages.’

  ‘What matters, surely, is how she reconciles herself to it.’

  A quick stare: with surprise in it. A new concept to him, that her feelings might be of consequence? Or that she might not be overjoyed? He let it go anyway, with a shrug and an expression of having missed some point. Continuing, ‘I heard that you set off from Injhavino rather abruptly on the day after the announcement. And I of course left even earlier – to assume command of this ship, no less. Everything was happening at once, eh – right, left and centre. Natasha, I was informed, was indisposed – meaning still fast asleep, I dare say. In any case it would have been indelicate, to have insisted on seeing her there and then. I’m very conscious that in what is known as an “arranged” marriage, a wise man treads softly – at least, until all positions are made clear. Hasn’t she written to you since then?’

  ‘To me?’

  ‘I thought perhaps in the circumstances she might have.’