Victoria and Luke came back later that day and as they walked up from the road Luke’s arm was round Victoria’s shoulders, but Leo made no comment. She had difficulty keeping her mind on the conversation over dinner and at bedtime Victoria said, ‘Leo, is everything all right? You seem to be miles away.’
‘Oh, it’s just this place, that’s all,’ Leo said. ‘You know, the mud, the noise of the guns …’
‘Then swap with me,’ Victoria urged. ‘You know you only have to say. It’s your turn for a bit of a break. It’ll do you good to get away.’
Briefly the tantalising prospect hovered before Leo’s imagination. Tomorrow night she could be safe in Lozengrad, instead of facing unknown dangers in the Turkish trenches. But she knew that she could never accept the offer. Whatever happened, she was going with Sasha Malkovic and the thought came to her that she would follow that man anywhere if he called her, though she could not, for the life of her, explain why. ‘No, really,’ she replied, ‘I’d rather stick it out here. Thanks for the offer, but I’m sort of settled here, and I’m learning a lot. I’ll be all right. I’m just tired, that’s all. Let’s get some sleep.’
There was little sleep for her that night and the next day she had to struggle to keep her mind on her work. By dinner time her nerves were strung so tight that she could not eat. She presented herself at Colonel Malkovic’s tent while he was still finishing his meal.
He looked up and wiped his mouth. ‘You’re early, good. Here—’ he rose and threw her a bundle of clothes from the chest ‘—put these on. You’ll never pass for a Turk in those English tweeds.’
Leo stared at the bundle in her hands. If she was forced to strip in front of him her secret would be discovered at once. She had sometimes wished for the kind of magnificent bosom that made some of her friends look so splendid in a low-cut evening dress but now she was glad that several weeks of sparse food and hard work had pared her figure down until her breasts hardly created a curve in her chemise, and she had long ago abandoned her stays. Nevertheless, without her tunic and breeches it would be obvious that she was not a boy. To her relief, he moved to the rear of the tent, where a curtain hid the sleeping quarters.
‘I must change too. Be quick, I shall not be long.’
In fumbling haste she took off her clothes and pulled on those he had given her. They were made of rough brown serge, the kind of garment that might be worn by an ordinary soldier on either side, and she shuddered as she saw that the back of the tunic was stained with blood and realised that it had probably been taken from a corpse. She had just finished when Malkovic returned, dressed in a similar costume. He looked her over, then beckoned her to a corner of the tent where the bare earth was exposed.
‘Rub some mud on your face. That fair complexion will shine like the moon.’
She obeyed and he smeared mud on his own cheeks and brow. Then he threw a uniform cloak over his disguise and handed her a similar one.
‘Now, you know what I am looking for. Any hint of weakness, any suggestion of a retreat; or on the other hand any sign of reinforcements or a planned attack. Understood?’
‘Yes, sir.’
As he led the way out of the tent the sentry outside came to attention and Malkovic said, ‘If anyone wants me, I am sleeping and not to be disturbed under any circumstances. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, sir.’
He beckoned and Leo followed him into the darkness. The rain had stopped at last and a crescent moon appeared fleetingly through the cloud wrack but the main light came from the innumerable fires that dotted the camp. Once a sentry shouted a challenge but Malovic answered, ‘Colonel Malkovic, on my rounds,’ and the sentry saluted and let them pass. Before long, they came to the first trench and climbed down into it. Leo had grown used to the smell in the dressing tent, but the stench here was of a different order and she put her sleeve across her face. The bottom of the trench was ankle deep in water and they waded along for what seemed to her a considerable distance. As they got nearer to the front line, they passed men clustered in little groups in dugouts burrowed into the side of the trench and then men on guard duty and others dozing on the fire-step. One trench led to another until Leo lost all sense of direction. Eventually, Malkovic led her up a side turning and came to a stop where a sapper waited, armed with a small lamp and his entrenching tool. Beside them, was the dark opening of a tunnel.
‘All quiet?’ Malkovic asked.
‘Haven’t heard a whisper since yesterday,’ was the response. ‘We’ve dug as close as we dared. It’ll take no more than a minute to break through.’
‘Right,’ Malkovic said. ‘Lead on.’
With a flutter of rising panic, Leo saw that they were going to have to crawl into that black hole. The sapper went first, Malkovic followed and Leo, clenching her teeth to suppress a whimper of distress, went after him. The tunnel was no more than three feet high, shored up at intervals with baulks of timber, and too narrow to turn round in. Panic threatened as she realised that it was impossible to go back. Since Malkovic’s body blocked most of the light from the sapper’s lamp Leo was left in almost total darkness, able to see only the soles of his boots ahead of her. The ground under her hands and knees was sticky with wet clay and her nose was filled with the stench of damp earth.
They crawled for what seemed miles, until Leo’s muscles were throbbing with cramp. Then the moving shape in front of her came to a sudden halt and she almost collided with him. The sapper had come to a stop at a point where the roof was slightly higher and was holding up his lantern. ‘Still!’ Malkovic whispered. ‘No sound!’ Leo froze, straining her ears.
At length, the colonel whispered, ‘Go ahead,’ and the sapper struck the side wall of the tunnel with his entrenching tool. The noise seemed so loud that Leo felt it must carry to the Turkish trenches but at last there was a sound of falling earth and a blessed draft of cool air reached her face. The sapper worked for a moment or two longer, then wriggled out of the way and Malkovic squirmed through the hole he had made. Thankful to be out of that living grave, Leo followed.
They were in another trench, as wet and foul-smelling as the previous ones, but Leo assumed that they were now on the Turkish side of the lines. At that thought the full realisation of her own foolhardiness struck her. If they were to be captured, how long would she be able to sustain the illusion that she was a boy? And once her true sex was discovered what fate might await her? She tried to comfort herself with the recollection of the honourable and dignified behaviour of the Turkish officer she had helped to question. Surely, he would treat a woman with respect. But how long would it be before she was handed over to someone of his rank – if ever – and what might she have to suffer at the hands of the common soldiers before that? For a moment she was tempted to confess the whole deception to Malkovic, but already he was leading the way along the trench and she had no option but to follow. At a junction with a second trench he flattened himself against the wall and peered round. Leo could hear the low mumble of distant voices but after a moment Malkovic straightened up and moved swiftly and soundlessly across the junction and into the shadows beyond. Leo followed, getting a glimpse as she did so of Turkish soldiers sitting and standing along the other trench in similar attitudes to the Bulgars they had passed on the other side.
They moved on, away from the front line, along what Leo knew enough to recognise as a communication trench leading back to the area where the reserves were quartered. There was enough light from the stars to see a short way ahead, but the trench was deliberately built with frequent bends and dogs’ legs, to prevent attackers from having a clear view. Suddenly, from beyond the next corner, Leo heard the sound of voices and the tramp of feet. A company of soldiers, marching in single file, appeared round the bend and bore down on them. Malkovic flattened himself against the side of the trench and she did likewise, but there was no way of avoiding the oncoming troops. The officer leading them stopped.
‘I’m looking for Mehmet Pasha. Am I heading the right way? How do you find your way around this rabbit warren?’
The question was addressed to Malkovic, who simply shook his head and shrugged. Leo answered, ‘Yes, straight on.’
The officer jerked his head at Malkovic. ‘What’s the matter with him? He should know dumb insolence won’t be tolerated.’
Leo pointed her finger to her temple and rotated it, in the universal sign implying that her companion was an idiot. The Turk gave a brief grunt of comprehension and beckoned his men forward.
The file of men tramped past them, until one halted by Leo. ‘What are conditions like in this shithole? As bad as they make out?’
‘Pretty bad,’ Leo agreed. ‘Just arrived?’
‘Yes. But we won’t be here long. We’ll soon send the infidels packing.’
‘Insh’allah!’ Leo responded piously.
Someone further back shouted, ‘What’s the hold up? Get a move on!’ and the man grinned and nodded and plodded on.
Leo leaned against the side of the trench and realised her legs were shaking. Malkovic touched her arm and jerked his head in the direction they had been walking. He led on until the trench turned another sudden corner and they almost fell over three men slumped together in attitudes of sleep. One of them roused himself and muttered, ‘Who’s that? Mind your feet, can’t you?’ Malkovic froze and looked at Leo and she said softly, ‘Sorry, brother. Go back to sleep.’ The man grunted and settled back and Leo followed the colonel until they came to a wider trench running a right-angles. At intervals along this light spilled from dugouts burrowed in the trench wall. They could hear voices and there was a smell of cooking and tobacco smoke.
Malkovic stepped aside and gestured Leo forward. She crept closer to the first opening and listened, but the conversation going on inside was just the sort of soldiers chat that she had heard many times in the Bulgarian camp: complaints about the food; gossip about wives and girlfriends; dirty jokes. She shook her head at the colonel and moved silently to the next opening.
Peering cautiously round the corner she saw a small space, roughly roofed with straw matting, in which half a dozen soldiers were smoking and playing backgammon. Malkovic looked at her and cupped his hand to his ear in a pantomime of listening. She pressed herself against the side of the trench, as close to the entrance as she dared, and strained her ears.
One man was grumbling. ‘What are we doing sitting here? We’ve been here for two days and all we do is sit in a hole in the ground like rabbits.’
‘Be grateful!’ another chided him. ‘After those forced marches I’m just glad to sit still.’
‘But why are we here?’ the other persisted.
‘Stop grousing,’ said another man, who from his tone Leo guessed to be the corporal in charge. ‘You’ll get enough action soon. We’re here to drive the infidels out of the Sultan’s territory and we move when we’re ordered to and not before. My guess is it won’t be long now.’
This appeared to put an end to the conversation. Leo looked at Malkovic and nodded back along the trench. When they were far enough away for their voices not to be heard he whispered, ‘Well, what were they saying? Anything useful?’
‘They are from the south,’ she whispered in return. ‘I recognise the accent. Somewhere around Ankara, I should guess. They have been marched here – forced marches – and they are waiting for the order to attack.’
She saw his eyes glitter in the reflected light from the dugout. ‘Did they know when?’
‘No. They have been here for two days and some of them are getting impatient. They expect it to be soon.’
He nodded and reached out to squeeze her arm. ‘Well done. That’s all I need. Come on. Let’s get back.’
This time the three sleepers did not stir as they picked their way over their feet. It seemed to Leo that it was a long way back to the entrance of the tunnel. Excitement had kept the adrenalin flowing until now, but as it subsided exhaustion took its place. She began to fear that they were lost in the maze of trenches, but Malkovic led the way without hesitation and at last the black hole of the tunnel loomed up out of the shadows. It took all her strength to haul herself back to the Bulgarian side. The sapper was waiting for them and set to work at once to block up the hole he had made, while Leo followed Malkovic back to the camp.
Back at his tent Malkovic turned to Leo. ‘So those men in the dugout had only recently arrived. What about the ones we met first?’
‘They are new, too. But they seemed very confident that they wouldn’t be staying long. I had the impression they expect to attack us very soon.’
Makovic nodded and said no more. Leo expected congratulations, but the colonel had other things on his mind. He shouted for his orderly and when the man appeared, rubbing his eyes, he ordered, ‘Fetch Lieutenant Popitch to me, and then get me something to eat. I’m ravenous.’
The man went and Malkovic pointed to Leo’s clothes, which she had left on the chest. ‘Get dressed. I’ll be back in a moment.’
She scrambled into her clothes, afraid to hear Popitch or the orderly returning, and she was still doing up her buttons when the lieutenant came in. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow and she was suddenly consumed with embarrassment at the thought of what interpretation he might put on the situation. But surely, she reasoned, Malkovic could not be suspected of anything like that. Or could he? He had shown her more kindness in her guise as a boy than he had shown to her as a woman.
Further thought was banished as Malkovic came back in his usual uniform. ‘Michaelo, go and tell General Vasoff that I need to see him urgently. Wake him up if necessary. I’ll be with you shortly.’
‘Is something happening, sir?’ the young man enquired.
‘The Turks have been reinforced. It sounds as though they are preparing to make a counter-attack. For now they are resting the men after a long march but the attack could come at any moment. But if we can hit them first, while the new troops are still exhausted, we might break through. If not, then the sooner we get the armistice signed the better. Either way, we need to move fast. Go!’
Popitch left and the orderly came in with a tray carrying a bottle of wine, bread and cheese. At the sight, Leo stomach growled so loudly she thought Malkovic must hear, but he was already pouring himself a glass of wine. She shuffled her feet, hoping to attract his attention, and he put down the goblet and came over to her.
‘You did well, my lion cub. Thanks to your ears, we have vital information. If you hear tomorrow that there has been a great attack and that we have broken through the defences and are marching on Constantinople, you will know that you have had a hand in the victory. If, on the other hand, you hear in a few days that the fighting is over and the armistice has been signed, you will have contributed to that, too. A good night’s work, no?’
‘Yes, I hope so, sir,’ she said.
He squeezed her shoulder briefly. ‘Now, off you go. Get some sleep. Goodnight.’
She turned away to the tent flap and paused to cast a last glance at the tray of food. He was already cutting a hunk of bread.
‘Goodnight,’ she said.
He waved a knife at her and responded, ‘Goodnight,’ with his mouth full. She went out into the darkness with an empty stomach and a jumble of emotions that refused to make any logical sense.