The Winter Thief

62

Father Zadian remained closeted with Apollo in the sitting room with the door shut for the entire morning on the day after he arrived. Vera had long since figured out that Father Zadian must have been the leader of Gabriel’s cell. Gabriel had once complained to her that the men in his cell wouldn’t take orders directly from him. Now she understood why. Father Zadian’s rectory was visited, day and night, by all kinds of men, some who looked like wealthy merchants, some tradesmen, others dressed in rags. They spoke rapidly in Armenian, but sometimes in French. When their voices were raised, she could hear and sometimes understand.

There had been a fight over tactics, with some of the visitors objecting to provoking the government.

“Do you know how many lives will be lost if the sultan decides to strike back at our community?” Vera heard one man shout, but she didn’t hear Father Zadian’s response. It hadn’t satisfied his visitor, who slammed the door on his way out.

Now Father Zadian was sequestered with Apollo and she could hear nothing, although she hovered by the door until Marta took her firmly by the shoulder and led her into the kitchen.

When Apollo emerged, he looked tired and unsettled. He went outside without remembering to put on a coat and paced about the rectory garden. After a while, he came in and sat before the kitchen stove, shivering. Marta left, closing the door behind her, leaving him alone with Vera.

“How much do you know, Vreni?” Apollo asked her. He pulled a small leather pouch from his jacket, took a pinch of tobacco from it, and tamped it into his pipe.

She told him what Marta had said about Gabriel’s bank robbery and the explosion.

“I don’t think Gabriel knows that there might be an attack on the commune,” Apollo said, “but he should be safe for the moment. Father Zadian heard that the vizier wanted to go ahead with an attack, but the sultan decided to wait. He’s sending an envoy east to see for himself whether the commune is a threat.”

“That’s good news, isn’t it?”

“Not if he decides it is one. Or if the vizier convinces the sultan to go ahead with the attack before the envoy returns.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Another provocation like that bank explosion might make them think attacking the commune is necessary to protect the empire. We have to warn Gabriel, but it’s not just about the commune anymore. Father Zadian thinks that if the sultan believes the Armenians are revolting, then the entire valley might be attacked. It wasn’t what he had planned.” Apollo gave a deep sigh. “I don’t know, Vreni. People do the most awful things.”

When Vera heard “we,” her hopes soared. She was vaguely aware that the thought of seeing Gabriel gave her less pleasure than the prospect of traveling with Apollo. Gabriel might be furious if she followed him and became a liability again.

“We have to bring him the guns.” Apollo opened the stove door and held a piece of kindling into the fire. It burst into flame, and he held it to his pipe bowl as he inhaled.

“Marta mentioned a shipment of guns, but it was confiscated.” She breathed deeply of the fragrance of Apollo’s pipe. It conjured memories of evenings in Apollo’s apartment in Geneva with Gabriel and others in heated discussion that would go on deep into the night.

“For heaven’s sake, didn’t Gabriel tell you anything? That’s why he was here-to get the guns and bring them to the commune.”

“He didn’t tell me what he was doing here.” She bowed her head, feeling as though this statement had revealed her inadequacy, but also her resentment toward Gabriel.

Apollo stared at her. “That idiot,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “That stupid, misguided idiot. How were you supposed to protect yourself if you didn’t know against what? And now you’re sitting here, doing what? Waiting for him?”

Vera crossed her arms. “No. I don’t know.” She felt put on the defensive. “Maybe I should just go back to Moscow.”

Apollo reached out and took her hand. “What do you want, Vreni?”

No one had asked her that before. “I want to be part of something bigger than myself.” She plucked at her skirt and said with a bitterness that surprised her, “Bigger than having a new wool dress.” She examined Apollo’s face to see whether he understood.

He looked at her solemnly and pulled on his pipe.

Encouraged, she continued. “I want to be part of some simple, worthy thing, like you and Gabriel. That’s all I want.” She faltered. “But I don’t think I can do it. Everything I’ve touched has fallen apart.” She started to cry. “I tried so hard, but I couldn’t do it.”

Apollo got up and embraced her. “Hush, Vreni. Sometimes bad things happen. We don’t have control over everything. But if we give up, that means we’ve lost and they’ve won. I’ve never seen you as a delicate flower.”

She laughed a little and wiped at her tears. “No,” she agreed. “I’m not so delicate.”

“Then let’s plan our trip. You’re coming along, aren’t you?”

Vera nodded.

“Good. Now we have to figure out how to steal those weapons back. Someone called Yorg Pasha bribed the officials. The guns have been off-loaded and are in one of his warehouses. Ready for an adventure?”