Flight From the Eagle (16 page)

Kusminsky rose and ran towards him, ignoring the sergeant, who had to check in his rush and change direction and before he could reach the surgeon a dozen men came running to seize him. He was knocked to the ground, winded and apparently unconscious.

Attracted by the noise Kolniev came out from behind the cart he had been working on, took one look at the scene and ran to where Kusminsky was bent over the still, white-clad figure. 'Oh, God!' he said. 'Not the Major! What happened?'

'Not sure. Wasn't looking,' Kusminsky replied, rapidly stripping off the blood-soaked shirt and bandages and using a long strip to make a tourniquet. He tightened it and took the dressing off the wound. Three of the sutures were broken and the wound was gaping and seeping blood, but even as they looked, the tourniquet began to take effect and the flow decreased.

Kusminsky let out his breath in a long sigh. Sergeant Platov came over and said to Kolniev, 'With your permission, sir?' Kolniev looked up and nodded and Platov continued, 'I think the sergeant was intending to harm the doctor, and the Major tried to stop him.' Kusminsky looked up sharply and said, 'That's it, is it! Of course—he wouldn't speak to me.'

'I don't understand,' Kolniev said. His eyes were fixed on Orlov's white face with a look of sick dread.

'Resentment,' Kusminsky replied. 'I took his arm off. Fellow's been brooding over it. I'm a fool. I should have realized what was wrong.' He looked around for his instrument case and found that the Countess had quietly appeared at his
side with it. The surgeon took it and got out the things he needed to restitch the wou
nd. Countess Barova knelt by Or
lov's feet out of the way and gazed at his face, her own nearly as white as his. She did not speak.

Kusminsky worked in silence and gradually everyone who could walk gathered round at a respectful distance and watched with deep concern. Their attention was so much on what the doctor was doing that they were caught unawares when Grushchev suddenly rolled over, scrambled to his feet and ran off into the forest. Kolniev gave a shout and started after him, but stopped after a few steps and directed half-a-dozen men to go instead. He was clearly more concerned about Orlov.

After a few minutes, Kusminsky slackened the tourniquet and watched the blood seeping from the wound. He tightened it again and sat back on his heels watching Orlov's face, his own quite expressionless. The Countess gave a tiny choking sob.

At last one of the soldiers blurted out the question none of them had dare
d ask. 'Will he...? Is he going to...
?' but he couldn't finish.

'I don't know,' said Kusminsky flatly. 'If the bleeding stops he'll probably be all right. If not, he'll die. You may as well go back to what you were doing—you can't do anything for him.'

Kolniev invented a number of jobs on the spur of the moment to keep the men busy and went away to organize them. The Countess and the surgeon remained with Orlov. Kusminsky glanced at her but she said 'Please don't send me away' so he said nothing and returned his attention to his patient.

For nearly two hours he watched the wound, alternately slackening and tightening the tourniquet until he was sure that the bleeding had stopped. Then he bound up the wound and called over a stretcher party to carry Orlov to his tent where he covered him well with blankets. The Countess accompanied him and remained unobtrusively as close to Orlov as she could without obstructing the surgeon.

'Well,' he said. 'Now it's a matter of waiting. He'll have
to be watched, I think. Someone should be with him all the time for a bit.
’

‘I’l
l sit with him,' she said.

Very well,' Kusminsky replied. 'I must finish seeing to my patients. You stay here now and I
'll send Josef to relieve you at
suppertime. If there's any change in him, call me at once.'
H
e went out of the tent and the Countess sat down on the ground beside the still figure on the stretcher, her eyes on his lace, and remained there un
til the gathering dusk brought J
osef to take her place.

Going out to join the others for supper, calm and self-possessed, she put up a good pretence of eating. Kolniev was irritable with frustration because Grushchev had not been found and he could do nothing for Orlov. Kusminsky looked utterly weary and hardly spoke until they were drinking I heir coffee. Then he said, 'About tonight—are you a heavy sleeper?'

'No,' replied the Countess. 'I sleep rather lightly. It takes very little to wake me.'

"Then I suggest we retire in the normal way but that you sleep close to the stretcher, if you've no objection. If there is any change in the Major's condition you must call me, but I don't somehow think that there will be. Until he turns feverish, he'll probably just lie there. To be honest, I don't think any of us can afford to go without sleep at present and there isn't much point in anyone staying awake unnecessarily.'

The others deferred to his judgement and soon afterwards the Countess returned to the tent taking over from Josef, who said he intended to remain nearby. The Countess promised to call him if there was any change in his master. Orlov had not stirred. He was lying on his back, breathing lightly, his thick black hair and eyebrows stark against his white face, and his heavily bandaged arm lying outside the blankets.

The Countess pulled her own bedding across to Orlov's side of the tent, took off her dress and unpinned her hair. She sat watching his face while she combed and replaited it, then wriggled into her blankets and lay down, leaving the little lantern still alight.

She slept badly, dozing off and then waking again to sit up and listen to Orlov's breathing. There was no change in him
at all and twice, wondering if he were still alive, she had to get up and slide her small hand inside his blankets to feel whether his heart was still beating.

In the morning, K
usminsky came to look at him and
said he thought he would probably pull through. 'Unless...' he added. 'Unfortunate
ly, there are too many unlesses
... gangrene, blood-poisoning, another knock to start the bleeding again. Still, he's a pretty tough man. I don't think he'll be all that easy to kill off.'

The Countess gave him a wan smile and allowed Josef to take her place while she went to have her breakfast.

Kolniev was worried about continuing the journey. 'I think we ought to go on,' he said. 'We're still too near the French line of march if they're going on towards Moscow. I wish we knew where they are! Do you think the Major can travel?'

Kusminsky shrugged. 'As long as he's not thrown about. Lash his stretcher down in a cart, tie him onto it and he should be all right. I expect he'll turn feverish soon, so someone should be with him.'

After a moment's reflection, Kolniev suggested that the cart the Countess normally drove would be the best one and he thought that now Sergeant Platov's shoulder was so much better, he might drive and leave the Countess free to be with Orlov.

She agreed and Kolniev went to have part of the cart's load shifted. When he returned, he said, 'We can't go just yet. Some of the men have just found Grushchev. He's hanged himself.'

'Just as well,' replied Kusminsky. 'The fellow's stark mad, I think. Anyway, he'd have been sentenced to death if he stood trial.'

'I don't think the Major would have liked the idea of a trial and he'd have liked the sentence even less,' said Kolniev. 'Anyway, we'll have to bury him and that'll take a little time. No ceremony—the men won't have it, they're too angry about what he did.'

The Countess said nothing but returned to the tent, sitting by Orlov until the stretcher-bearers came to carry him to the cart. Kolniev saw to the business of tying the stretcher
s
ecurely and the Countess made herself comfortable beside him. The procession formed up and jolted slowly across the grass and back onto the road.

The big grey was tied on behi
nd one of the carts with the ot
her spare horses and Sergeant Platov turned round on the box of the cart to look down
at Orlov's still figure on the s
tretcher. He said, 'It don't
seem right, not to see him up t
here on that grey, riding along in front. It
don't seem right at
all.' The corporal sitting beside him nodded agreement .mil they drove along in gloomy silence.

Towards the end of the morning, with the sun nearly at Its hottest and the dust hanging thick in the still air, Orlov made a faint sound and mov
ed his head. The Countess bent o
ver him and felt his forehead. It was dry and burning and he moved his head fretfully, moaning.

The Countess called Kusmin
sky who rode up beside the cart
and looked over the side at his patient. 'Is his head hot?' he asked.

'Yes, but he's not sweating.'

'He'll start getting restless soon
. Don't let him thresh about. If
he does, we'll have to tie him
down or he'll move that arm, and
it's best kept still.' Kusminsky remained beside the Cart, glancing frequently at Orlov,
who continued to move his
head restlessly from time to
time and to make small moaning
sounds.

At t
he midday break the cart stood in the shade and they Blade no attempt to move him
. The Countess asked Josef for a
bucket of water, bathed Orlov's hot face and smoothed his thick curls, which promptly sprang b
ack into their usual disorder
. Kolniev brought her some food and remained to eat his own, perched on the side of
the cart, looking hot, tired and
anxious. He asked the Countess how she was and she re
plied,
'I'm a little stiff and dusty.
Would you mind staying with him
while I wash and walk about a little?'

S
he went across to the stream which had been the reason their choice of stopping place and washed her face, but returned to the cart straight away
, remaining there quietly by t
he stretcher until it was time to go on.

As the day wore on, Orlov's fever inc
reased a little and he became rest
less, bin did not attempt to move any more than
his head. The Countess drowsed beside him, bathing his face from time to time and in between, held his right hand under the cover of the blanket which Kusminsky thought he should have over him, despite the heat. During the afternoon, they passed through an area of open country where there was another village, empty and burned as the first one had been. The black ruin had a depressing effect on the party's spirits, already low, and they went on into another belt of forest in a despondent silence.

Camp for the night was made in the area of cleared land where a minor road crossed the one they were on. When the tents were up, Orlov was carried to his, still on the stretcher and still unconscious, feverish and deathly pale. Kusminsky went to him and, checking the condition of his arm, began to look a fraction more cheerful.

When he had gone, Josef brought a bucket of water for the Countess and she retired with it to the part of the tent furthest from the entrance, hung up Orlov's cloak as a curtain and washed and changed her clothes. She paused to listen every time Orlov moaned and knelt beside him afterwards, stroking his hair until Kolniev came to keep watch while she had her supper.

About half-an-hour later, he came over to the 'dining table' and said, 'I've left Josef with the Major. He's much more restless and I think he wants something.'

'Any idea what?' asked Kusminsky.

'It's not very clear. He keeps muttering something,' Kolniev said, looking worried. 'That's why I called Josef, to see if he could guess. I thought he might have some idea what it might be, but he can't understand either. We both thought it sounded like "sparrow", but that doesn't make sense.'

The Countess got up and ran to the tent. When Kolniev and Kusminsky arrived a few seconds later, she was kneeling on the ground beside the stretcher and Orlov was lying quiet and still.

'Well!' said Kusminsky. 'It looks as if he got his "sparrow", whatever it is. Did you know what he meant?' She simply replied 'Yes' without offering any explanation.

Later, when everyone retired, she again slept close to the stretcher. She was woken at the very first glimmer of dawn by
Orlov's restless tossing and muttering. She knelt beside him, keeping on his right side for fear of knocking his arm and whispered, 'It's all right—oh, please be still!' His forehead was still very hot. She stroked his hair, murmuring to him soothingly, and gradually he grew quieter. She pulled one of her blankets round her shoulders and sat watching his face until presently she dropped into a light sleep.

She woke with a start to find that the daylight was growing stronger and that Orlov was lying with his eyes open, looking at her. She leant over him and he put his right arm round her, drawing her down until she was lying with her head on his shoulder. He laid his check against her hair and sighed.

'Major Orlov?' she whispered.

'Dear Sparrow!' he replied. 'It's getting light, isn't it?'