The Ice King (18 page)

PRINCE NIKOLAI returned to St. Petersburg on Monday evening and sent some flowers and out-of-season strawberries from his hothouses to the Kirovs, with a message saying that he hoped to see them next afternoon at the review.

It was a bright, cold day, and the city sparkled under a blue sky. The Kirovs once more set out for Palace Square, Fedor on horseback, the others in the carriage, and were directed to a place near the Hermitage end, where Millionaires' Row led off towards the Field of Mars and the Summer Garden. The huge square had been swept clear of snow and the granite setts had been sanded to save the horses from slipping. A large crowd had already gathered and lined the side of the square in front of the half-built General Staff building, penned in behind the Semenovsky Guards who were standing in a long line facing the Palace.

The Kirovs' coachman let down the hoods of the carriage so that its occupants could get an unimpeded view, and before long they heard a military band playing, and soldiers of the various regiments involved in the review began to march into the square from every entrance, company by company, and take up their positions.

Irina, who was bouncing about excitedly, asked her mother if they might get down from the carriage as she was cold, and the Countess agreed. The family descended one by one, and Tanya, who was last, was about to follow when Prince Nikolai rode up on a fine black mare, accompanied by Pyotr on a bay.

The Prince edged his horse alongside the carriage, and Tanya sat down again, smiling as she welcomed him, too pleased to see him to attempt to conceal her feelings.

“Are you warm enough?" the Prince enquired after preliminary greetings.

“Yes, capitally, thank you," Tanya replied, showing him the flannel-wrapped hot brick in her lap, and then a cry from Irina and a cheer from Fedor and Count Alexei drew her attention back to the square. Vladimir was just emerging from Millionaires' Row on a fine grey charger, looking exceedingly handsome and impressive in his full-dress uniform.

Behind him came the colour-party, a young Ensign carrying the Regiment's white silk standard, escorted by a dozen very tall men, the Colour-Sergeant being nearly seven feet from his boots to the top of his
kiver
or shako. Tanya could see the Grenadier Company of the First Battalion following, every man picked out for his height rather than any particular military ability, and she exclaimed, "Now I see why they called you the Little Colonel!”

Prince Nikolai gave her
a
startled look, but before he could ask her how she knew that, the colour-party drew level with him. The giant sergeant bellowed some orders, and the ensign swept the standard down and up again in salute. Prince Nikolai had, of course, already removed his beaver hat out of respect for the standard, and he now bowed in acknowledgement of the salute, and said quietly to Tanya, "They shouldn't really have done that."

“Why not?" asked Tanya. "You were their Colonel, after all. How neatly the ensign did it!"

“You should have seen Boris," the Prince replied, replacing his hat on his head. "That lad had
a
real talent for handling the standard. It's far from easy, you know, for it's very heavy and badly balanced.”

Vladimir's Regiment crunched past and took its place among the others, followed by two more. The square now seemed comfortably full of men, each regiment drawn up with an interval between its companies and a wider space dividing it from the next. Prince Nikolai pointed out to Tanya that only the First Battalion of each was present, but this still amounted to a great many men, all dressed in long grey overcoats which covered their green uniforms, except the officers, who were apparently expected to put up with being cold, although their rather bulky look led Tanya to suspect that they had several layers of clothes on under their uniforms.

The gate of the Palace courtyard opened and a dozen men on horseback rode out, their various orders and medals sparkling in the sunshine. At their head rode the tall figure of the Emperor in the white uniform of the Chevalier Guard, an ostrich-plumed cocked hat on his head, sitting very straight on a milky-white charger. He made a very impressive and striking figure, the diamonds of his orders adding a sparkle to the lustre which seemed to surround him.

For the next hour, the great gathering of soldiers marched and counter-marched, wheeled right and left, formed line, column and square, going through most of the evolutions in the English drill-book which Alexander had introduced into the Russian Army after Waterloo. From time to time, he would call out a word of praise, and once he pointed a white-gloved finger at a man who was fractionally out of line, so that Tanya felt very sorry for the poor fellow.

Eventually all the men arrived back at the positions from Which they had started, and the Emperor and his entourage rode in a group backwards and forwards between the companies, occasionally stopping while the Emperor leaned down to speak to a man who had caught his attention for some reason. Then the group returned to the front of the parade, and Alexander called out in a very clear voice his traditional greeting to his Army, "You have done well, my children!"

“We shall do better, Little Father!" came the deep roar of the reply.

Irina, excitedly hopping about and laughing, turned and said something to the Kirovs' coachman, who was standing by the carriage-horses' heads. He let go of their harness and stepped forward, unable to hear what she was saying, and as he bent towards her, all the immense throng of soldiers in the square raised their muskets and rifles as one man and fired
a feu de joie.

The volley crashed out, the sound waves striking the front of the Palace and rolling back again in a great echo, and the Kirovs' horses flung up their heads and, with no more ado, bolted. The coachman made
a
frantic grab for the reins, missed and fell over, everyone shouted and people in the way screamed and scrambled clear as the team raced out of the square towards Millionaires' Row, the carriage bouncing and swaying after them.

Tanya clutched at the side of the carriage, terrified, as it lurched over the canal bridge, nearly overturning, and then flung herself forward and scrambled on to the other seat, leaning over the folded hood, but without any very clear idea of what she hoped to achieve, while the horses laid back their ears and stretched out into
a
gallop along the straight street, towards the Field of Mars.

“Hold on!" a voice shouted, and Prince Nikolai spurred his horse up level with her, crouched low over the animal's neck, and began to draw ahead
a
little as they erupted from the street into the great open, gravelled space of the parade ground.

Prince Nikolai was level with the horses now, and Tanya watched in horror as he leaned over and gripped the head-harness of the nearest, withdrawing his feet from his stirrup and lying along his horse's back, then shifting his weight until it was balanced between his hands on the carriage horse and his thighs on his saddle. With a sudden tremendous effort, he flung himself from his own horse on to the back of the carriage horse, clinging with both hands and fighting for balance.

For a second Tanya thought he would fall 'under the wheels, but he gave another great heave and hauled himself safely upright astride the animal, gathered up the trailing reins, and gradually slowed the team to
a
steaming, shuddering halt. The whole action had taken only seconds, and they were still little more than two-thirds of the way across the Field of Mars. The Prince dismounted and ran to the horses' heads, talking quietly and soothingly to them.

Pyotr and Fedor came up at a gallop, the servant with Prince Nikolai's mount in tow. He dismounted and took over the carriage horses from his master, who ran back to the carriage door, climbed in and seized hold of Tanya's hands. He was hatless, dishevelled, and looked totally distraught.

“Are you hurt?" he demanded, his voice raw with anxiety, searching her white face for reassurance.

“No, just frightened. Oh, how did you do it?" she gasped. "I thought you would fall!”

Prince Nikolai closed his eyes and shook his head. He was breathing in a painful, gasping fashion, his injured side thoroughly jarred and knocked by the violent activity. After a moment he looked up and managed to say, "It's just a trick. Not very difficult, but rather showy. I only did it to impress you!”

His eyes were shadowed with anxiety and pain, belying the lightness of his voice. He gave Tanya's hands a painful squeeze, and turned to Fedor, who was leaning anxiously over the side of the carriage.

“Can you manage the three horses?" he asked, and Fedor, who was already doing so, nodded.

“Then will you go back to the others and tell them that Tanya is quite safe?" the Prince went on. "I'll take her home, and then send Pyotr back with the carriage to fetch them."

“Er — yes, of course. I suppose . . ." Fedor began doubtfully, but a particularly hard stare from the Prince penetrated his obtuseness, and he nodded again, marshalled his charges into an orderly triangle, the two led horses side by side behind his own, and trotted off back to Palace Square. Pyotr gave the reins of the carriage horses to a likely-looking urchin among the little crowd of onlookers which had gathered, and put up the hoods of the carriage, then retrieved the reins in exchange for a small coin, mounted the box and drove the carriage off right-handed across the open ground, heading for the Malaya Sadovaya and a route home to the Kirovs' house through the back-streets.

Tanya, freed from the interested audience and now feeling the reaction to her narrow escape, began to shiver. The rug she had earlier had tucked round her had fallen to the floor, so she retrieved it and huddled in its warm folds, feeling that it would be very pleasant to fling herself into Prince Nikolai's arms and be comforted and cossetted by him. She took a sidelong look at him, but he was leaning back in his seat, and appeared very white and drawn.

After a few moments he seemed to gather himself together with an effort, and sat up, shifting awkwardly, and picked up another rug, which he carefully tucked round Tanya, as if she might be made of fragile porcelain. She gave him an unsteady smile, and suddenly became conscious that it was very improper for her to be travelling alone in a closed carriage with a gentleman.

“You'll soon be home," Prince Nikolai said gently.

She nodded, and turned her head to look out of the window, afraid that he might guess that she wished he would take her in his arms.

“How odd all the statues look in the Summer Garden!" she said, her voice wobbling a little. "Like untidy parcels wrapped up against the frost in straw and sacks!"

“They're a fine sight in the summer," he replied. "You'll enjoy strolling there when the White Nights come in June. You must come out to Peterhof and see the gilded statues on the Great Cascade. It's a beautiful sight when the water flows and the fountains play, shining in the sun like a garden of the Gods."

“I shan't be here in the summer," Tanya said in a small, despondent voice. She could imagine few things more pleasant than walking with Prince Nikolai in a beautiful garden, but she would be far away in bleak, ugly Taganrog, long before the ice thawed at Peterhof, and Prince Nikolai would walk there with someone else.

She began to shiver again. The Prince seized all the rugs in the carriage and spread them over her. She started to try to thank him for rescuing her, but her voice seemed beyond her control, and a couple of tears suddenly formed in her eyes and spilled over on to her cheeks.

“Not a word!" Prince Nikolai said sternly, touching her lips lightly with one finger. He produced a large clean handkerchief and carefully removed the tears. "Isn't Petersburg beautiful in the winter sunset?”

He was not looking at the sunset, but it served to distract Tanya, who looked out at the sky flaming in pink and lilac, reflecting strange hues from the pastel buildings, gleaming on golden domes and spires, and colouring the white snow on the rooftops. She nodded and managed to wriggle one hand out from under the rugs. He took it in a warm, comforting grip, and they passed the rest of the short journey holding hands in comfortable silence.

By the time they reached the Kirovs' house, Tanya was much calmer. Prince Nikolai handed her down from the carriage and told Pyotr to give the horses a good rub-down before he went back to Palace Square, and then he followed Tanya into the house and helped her off with her cloak and overshoes.

She asked Nikita to send up a tray of tea, Prince Nikolai having already told him briefly what had happened, and then she led the way up to the sitting-room, taking off her bonnet as she went and giving her hair a few pushes and tugs into place, checking that it looked reasonably tidy with a swift, surreptitious glance in a mirror as she passed.

She sat down on the sofa before the fire in the sitting-room, and invited Prince Nikolai to be seated. He took an armchair at the fireside, easing his aching side as he did so. Tanya drew breath and opened her mouth to say something to him, but subsided again as Nikita came in with the tea-tray, which he placed on the sofa-table by Tanya. He bowed himself out, closing the door quietly behind him.

As she poured water from the samovar into the porcelain teapot, and presently filled the pretty flower-painted cups, she thought, "He saved my life just now! He came after me, and risked his own life for me! That was a wonderful thing to do, and I don't know how to thank him.”

She passed a cup and saucer to the Prince, and they sat sipping the lemon tea as the last of the daylight faded outside and the fire crackled brightly in the hearth. After a while Tanya put down her cup and turned wide, glowing eyes towards the Prince. "You must let me thank you," she said. "I might have been killed if you hadn't stopped the horses!”

He jerked his head in an awkward, embarrassed fashion and replied, "I doubt it. They'd have stopped by themselves eventually. It's just a natural reaction – one sees horses go off, and one goes after them, that's all. Anyone would have done it."