As soon as Grandmother Jilinsky left for the storage room, Uncle Matvey moved swiftly toward Karena.
“I need to speak to you alone.”
Karena peered at him closely. “You have news you don’t want her to hear.”
“She’s overburdened in spirit. It will do us no good and harm her. Now, quickly.” He took hold of her arm, his voice becoming grim as he talked. “We don’t have much time, Karena. Is there anything I should know about last night?”
She looked away, shaking her head, and moved toward the window. “No, nothing.” She loathed involving him after his past arrest in Warsaw. Once a report of sedition against the Imperial power was written up against anyone, the mark never left the files of the secret police, even if later proven false. She guessed this was on his mind as well.
“They’ll interrogate us all before they depart tomorrow morning,” he said. “Colonel Kronstadt will question us here at the bungalow. It’s important I’m told the truth beforehand.”
She turned to face him. “But why question you? You had nothing to do with the meeting last night. You don’t even know Policeman Grinevich.”
“They will question each one of us as normal procedure.”
His deep-set eyes fixed on her intently. Normally, she would have told him everything, except she recalled Dr. Zinnovy’s orders. She looked down at her hands as though she had never seen them before.
“Come, come, Karena. Do you not trust your old uncle?”
Her anxiety melted, and she went to him quickly and hugged him. “More than anyone.”
He patted her head. “Good. It would give me great ease if I understood the risks we face, especially for you. Were you there last night, Karena?”
She brushed back the hair from her damp forehead. She lowered her voice. “Yes. I went for personal reasons. I wanted to see Ivanna, Dr. Lenski’s daughter. She attends the medical school. Sergei’s been seeing her in St. Petersburg. He and I both thought she might be able to put in a favorable word for me.” She turned away. “It was all useless anyway. Ivanna didn’t even come to hear her brother’s speech.”
Matvey’s eyes were grave. “Who saw you there?”
“No one saw me, except a few peasants. Everyone was listening to Lenski. Oh yes, and Anna.”
Alarm showed in his face. “Anna was there?”
“I don’t know if she looked my way. She must have come to please Sergei, even though he didn’t appear to notice her. It makes me think he didn’t invite her. Suddenly, someone shouted, ‘Police!’ I ran, but the horse was missing—”
“The horse?”
“Sergei and I rode a horse to the meeting. The police were out searching.”
His worry was such that she could not hold back and hastened in a whisper, “Dr. Zinnovy came by in his coach and stopped, threw open his door, and ordered me inside. I recognized him. I had just reached his coach door when police came running up, ordering me to halt. Dr. Zinnovy told them I had been with him that evening, doing some work for him, and that he could swear to my whereabouts. They acted as though they believed him and apologized—though Policeman Leonovich looked suspicious. They let us go, however. Dr. Zinnovy brought me to the front of the manor house. Then we called on Anna to make sure she was all right. Later, I entered through the back door unseen and went straight up to my room.”
The startled expression on Uncle Matvey’s face when she mentioned Dr. Zinnovy now turned wary. “Dr. Dmitri Zinnovy, or do you mean his son Fyodor?”
“The renowned Dr. Zinnovy—” She stopped. She would not mention that Zinnovy, by chance on his evening walk, had shown up at the meeting, even to Uncle Matvey.
“Well now, that is what I call good fortune. Dr. Zinnovy’s reputation as a Romanov family physician could not be better where you are concerned. I am most surprised he remains in Kiev, though. I’d heard he was returning to St. Petersburg three weeks ago.”
“It was astounding, Uncle. He even promised to make a way for my entry into the medical school, but—” She stopped again. “Papa said the finances aren’t available this year.”
He walked to the stove and refilled his cup.
“I’m still in shock that he’d help me as he did,” she said, “but I’m not about to argue with providence.”
“You appear to be in a firm position with Dr. Zinnovy’s backing. I suppose he told you not to mention the facts to anyone, even though Yeva and Josef must know you were not working for Dr. Zinnovy. Undoubtedly, he assumes the alibi he gave you will be sufficient to quiet further questioning. Well, hopefully, that should satisfy Durnov and Kronstadt.” He rubbed his chin and then looked at his watch. “Zinnovy’s help brings me great relief. I only wish he could have vouched for Sergei, but one cannot have everything.” He walked over to the door and unlocked it. “Unless I’m mistaken, Kronstadt will be here any minute now. Keep to your story at all costs, Karena. You have a friend in Dr. Zinnovy.” He looked at her, and then a tiny frown stole over his face.
Karena wondered what it was about Dr. Zinnovy’s favor that worried him. She spoke up. “Colonel Kronstadt’s likely to discover your secret dinners with Miliukov in St. Petersburg.”
He turned his head. “How did you find out? Sergei, I suppose.”
She thought about the intellectual group her uncle met with whenever he was in St. Petersburg. She hoped they were not considered revolutionaries.
“We must not be afraid of ideas, Karena, as long as we have a foundation of truth to judge right from wrong. It’s when a people no longer hold on to the foundation that all ideas are judged to be equal. Then a nation, however great, is in grave danger of the greatest deceptions.”
She looked at him. “You’ve changed.”
He raised his white brows. “How so?”
“I grew up hearing you tell me how all truths are relative.”
He bit the end of his pipe and watched the smoke rings. “Perhaps I am only now discovering how wrong I was. We are all mortal, with feet of clay.”
The kitchen door opened suddenly. Ilya came in. He was out of breath from running and looked over at Uncle Matvey. Some wordless message passed between them.
Karena stood, her gaze darting suspiciously from one to the other. “What is it?” she asked.
Ilya was still looking at Matvey. “Sergei is waiting at the back of the bungalow, Uncle. He wants to talk to you.”
Karena started for the door, but Ilya stopped her.
“Wait, Karena, please. Sergei needs to see Matvey alone,” he said quietly.
She watched as Matvey went out the back kitchen door and around the window to the side porch.
She turned to Ilya. “How did Sergei slip away from the officers?”
“So far, he’s managed to avoid them.” His voice was low and tight. He walked over to the stove, lifted the lid on the large kettle of stew and sniffed. She handed him a bowl and a spoon. He scooped out a hearty portion and leaned against the wall, ignoring the chair and table.
“Is my father at the manor?”
He nodded without speaking.
A horrid suspicion rose in her chest. She began to pace the kitchen floor, occasionally glancing out the window. Ilya ate his stew in silence. She looked over at him. What was he keeping from her?
“Kronstadt will come here to talk to you,” he said a minute later. “If you even hint you were there last night with Sergei, they’ll take you to St. Petersburg. You should have listened to me. I knew he’d lead you into trouble.”
“Sergei didn’t drag me there. I went of my own will.”
“If he says anything—or if Anna talks—”
“I will not be arrested.” She paced. “I have an alibi.”
“What good is an alibi? They will break it in two.”
“Not this one.”
Ilya looked at her curiously, no doubt wondering what gave her such confidence.
“If you think Kronstadt will deal gently with you, you’re wrong. Just because your Uncle Viktor favors him doesn’t mean Kronstadt can be trusted to do anything for the family. He will do what furthers his own reputation. I don’t like him. Why isn’t he going off to war like the rest of us? Instead he goes to the safety of St. Petersburg.”
She nearly rushed to Alex’s defense, wanting to explain how he wished to join his troops in Warsaw but could not. Instead, she cut a slice of apple pie and served it to him. He ate, but his gray eyes were despondent. He put his plate down as he chewed the last bite.
“I was talking to several of the conscripts in the field,” he said finally. “There are stories about Kronstadt. He’s the spoiled son of a wealthy countess.”
“There are always stories. I’m surprised you would listen to them. You know how some men are when they’re being pulled away from their families and forced into the army. I understand, but—”
“Kronstadt’s been in trouble at the officer’s school. He cares about nothing but riches, women, and entertainments. He likes to shoot and ride, and there’s a scandal about a duel, and worse, the military cadets he was with were involved in a pogrom.”
She sat down, her fingers tightening on the arm of the chair. “Those are some despicable charges, Ilya, even if they’re not true.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t make them. They are common talk. And most times, common talk is based on some fact.”
“Some fact,” she said wryly. “Have you met him before?”
“You know I haven’t. Just be careful with him, will you? Such a man is dangerous.”
Uncle Matvey came through the kitchen door. Sergei was not with him.
“He went back to the manor,” Uncle Matvey said when she looked at him for explanation. “Ilya, when you have finished, please find your grandmother, will you? I saw her leave the storage pantry and walk to the chicken coop for eggs. If you can walk her over to the manor, it will be best for her. The colonel will be here soon.”
Ilya looked at Karena and seemed about to say something more, but instead, he went out.
Uncle Matvey watched him leave. “I detect trouble of another kind with Ilya.”
“He doesn’t like Colonel Kronstadt.”
He walked over to her. She expected him to reassure her that matters were not as grim as they appeared. He did not.
“You need to be strong,” he said with a level look. “Grinevich is dead.” She sucked in her breath.
“He died a few hours ago. You know what that means?”
She did not move.
He nodded. “Yes, naturally, you do.” He appeared to have difficulty finding words. “Your father is at the manor. You must prepare yourself, Karena.”
She dampened her dry lips. “What do you mean? What has Papa Josef to do with this? I mean, I know they will interrogate him, but he has done nothing.”
There was muted pain in his eyes. He laid a hand on her shoulder. “There may be more than one arrest.”
More than one?
“Your father will be going to St. Petersburg with Major-General Durnov to answer more questions.”
The surprise came like a fist.
“But—why Papa? He wasn’t there last night. I can swear to that—”
He grabbed her arm, his eyes warning her. “You will say nothing, Karena. Nothing.”
She closed her eyes for a moment to steady her emotions. “Didn’t Sergei explain to the officers that his father wasn’t there? And Mother is a witness. They were home together all evening. Natalia knows that as well.”
“We all know as much. It is Josef himself who states otherwise.”
“Papa? That makes no sense.”
“Karena,” he said, “you must find courage. Josef is confessing that he is a leader of the Bolsheviks here in the village.”
She gasped. “Absurd! He said that? How could he? It isn’t true. Papa would never be so foolish!” She stared at him and saw the answer in his gaze. She groaned. “Oh no. He’s doing it for Sergei. Did Mother agree to this?”
He nodded. “It was Josef’s idea. It would be, naturally. In return, Sergei has promised him he will leave the Bolshevik Party and become a lawyer.”
She closed her eyes, as if the momentary darkness would make everything unpleasant fade away.
“Yes, I know, my dear child, this is a sickening shock to us all,” he said. “But when we stop to think about it, it’s not so surprising. Not when we remember what Sergei means to Josef. It would hurt Josef far more to see his son arrested than to make this confession in his place.”
Her mind fought its way back from the whirlwind of anguish and grief.
“Such love on Papa’s part,” she said. “He’s willingly going to take Sergei’s punishment.”
Uncle Matvey looked down at her so sharply that for a moment she wondered what she might have said to upset him. Then she saw he was not angry with her, but thinking of something that had suddenly arrested his mind. His distant gaze was directed out the window again, as he absently fingered his pipe.
She stood, curling her fingers along the back of the chair. She shook her head slowly, doubtfully. “But Papa’s arrest may not be enough to satisfy them. Sergei could still be arrested. If Grinevich saw him there last night—if he named Sergei before he died—they could hang both Papa and Sergei, and Papa will have done this for nothing.”
He shook his head. “No, Josef arranged to place the guilt of evidence on himself alone this morning when Policeman Leonovich called on him. By the time Kronstadt talked to him, Josef had already settled his plan. Leonovich agrees with Josef that he was there last night, that he was the one who arranged for Lenski to speak. Leonovich satisfied Major-General Durnov, at least. Josef has made some kind of bargain. I do not know what it is. Neither does Sergei, but it’s enough to safeguard your brother.”
Karena was horrified. Bargain? What bargain could he make with the Okhrana?
“What of Colonel Kronstadt?” she asked. “Is he privy to it also?” Anger churned in her heart.
“No, I am quite sure he is not, though Ilya thinks differently.”
“Papa Josef, as a zemstvo member, dismissed the extreme notions of Lenin,” she said. “It is most absurd to think he would be the head of the party in the village. Who would believe it? Every Sunday he is at the church. The Bolsheviks are mostly atheists.”
“Josef took Sergei’s incriminating evidence from his room and planted it in his own so they would find it.”
He had planned everything. Sergei must keep silent; he must promise to go to the university and become a lawyer, so that his father would be proud. How this ironic turn of events must be stabbing Sergei’s heart! If he spoke the truth, he would be arrested, and his father would be devastated. And yet, to allow his father to take his place—
Karena’s gaze met her uncle’s. Matvey nodded as he read her question.
“Yes, that was why Yeva wanted Sergei to come back to the house. She knew of Josef’s plan. She wanted to tell Sergei that she had reluctantly agreed to let Josef do this, because he meant so much to his father.” Uncle Matvey added quietly, thoughtfully, “Yeva realizes Josef is more devoted to Sergei than to anyone or anything else in this life. At present, very little matters to him, except that Sergei lives.”
What will we do without Papa Josef? What of the farm? How will we manage?
Karena’s heart might as well have been sawn in two, so divided were her loyalties. Young, reckless Sergei and her sober, quiet papa. How could this be? Was there no way to escape this crushing destiny?
They must lose either Papa or Sergei, and Papa had all but decided the outcome on his own. He had chosen to become the scapegoat.
She turned toward the kitchen door, but Matvey intervened.
“I understand your feelings in this, but it is not for you to decide.”
“Not mine?” she questioned.
“No, it is between Josef and Yeva.” His face was grim, his eyes sympathetic. “You must respect your father’s decision. It’s his alone to make.”
The long moments ticked by. Slowly, she turned away from the door and sat down.
Uncle Matvey watched her with sad approval. “Some things must be borne,” he said. “We must be brave. Yes, be brave. You see? There is no choice. Josef has made up his heart. Yes, I stated it correctly, his heart, not his mind.”
He put his hand on her head as though she were a little girl again. “And if Yeva can let her husband go for his son’s sake, then you and I must release him.”
She slowly lowered her head as her eyes dimmed with warm tears.
“I see you understand,” he said quietly. “These bitterest of decisions leave no pleasant consequences.”
After a moment she blotted her cheeks dry.
“But Sergei!” she said. “Surely he won’t agree. I know him well enough. He argues with Papa Josef. He makes light of his stolid support of the autocracy, but he loves him dearly.”
“Josef left Sergei no choice. We may not agree. We may see the cliff’s edge and desire to rush in to stop one from going over, but ofttimes we are helpless. I suppose there is no pain quite as bad as that. All we can do is share in the heartbreak. Let us hope that Sergei will invest his life at the university. For now, he lives for two men. No,” he said thoughtfully, “Sergei’s life touches all of us. This is not easy for Sergei, believe me. It has cut him to the quick. Perhaps God will use this tragedy to mold him. Sergei finds himself in the Potter’s hand.”
Karena’s throat pinched with pain. She swallowed hard, pushing her hair away from her forehead. Uncle Matvey’s strange words created new footprints across her soul.
“In such situations as these, Karena, we see that God alone is able to move in our lives and reach us. Without knowledge of God, there is no faith, and without faith in a sovereign God who is both Creator and Savior, there is no ground for hope.”
She jerked her head up. She had never seen him more serious, nor his eyes more intense. Does he believe what he is saying?
“You sound like you’ve changed your mind about the God of the Bible.”
“I am only learning, Karena. I’ve been reading many books, as you know, including the New Testament. I thought it wise to understand about Jesus if I’m to write honestly about Messiah. I can now say the gospel of Matthew, with its many clear references to fulfillment of Old Testament prophecies, has all but convinced me there is to be a personal Deliverer, a Savior, through the royal line of David. Isaiah 53 tells me this person, the greater son of David, will suffer. I cannot read that chapter without the Crucifixion coming before me. I have read it dozens of times, and each time I am more convinced that it is not speaking of Israel’s sufferings, as the rabbis claim, but of Messiah himself. Questions remain, but if the answers keep coming as they have so far, I will see no obstacle to Jesus being the Messiah, or as the Greek language has it in the New Testament writings, the Christ.”
A hundred different thoughts came to her mind, and each one led off to a question of its own. These were things she could not think on now.
She turned to the window and stared helplessly at the manor house.