As they passed the third levee, the Watchman tugged at Saint-Germain's cloak and called out, "You'll need to be careful, Hercegek. The storm has been very fierce out here. Part of the wooden walkway ahead has fallen into the river, and the footing on the path is uneven. You must not be hasty or you risk falling."
"Thank you," said Saint-Germain. "I will bear that in mind." He continued on a short distance until the raised walkway was replaced by a wooden one; he turned to the Watchman. "How far beyond this, can you tell me?"
"Not far--a dozen paces or a bit more." The man pointed to where part of a work-gang was struggling frantically to cover the second treadmill with tarpaulins; two supervisors shouted incoherent orders at them as the wind tore at the canvas, flailing up into the hail, the cloth snapping as the wind took hold of it. "Not far beyond that."
For an instant, Saint-Germain had an uncomfortable memory of his attack in May, but he quickly banished it; on a night like this, robber-gangs would not venture out. He could feel the disorientation of running water all around him, and he reminded himself to be careful of vertigo. Something else occurred to him, and he turned back to the Watchman. "What is your name? If I have to call for you, I should know."
"I am Aijus Kainula."
"A good Karelian name," Saint-Germain said, and prepared to go on. He skirted the work-gang as widely as possible, and continued on, paying attention to their footing and the state of the walkway ahead of them. When the wooden path stopped abruptly, Saint-Germain raised his lantern enough to show the extent of the damage to the top of the dyke. "We can walk along this if we are careful."
"Keep the beam low, so we don't misstep. With so much hail in the wind, the air is shiny, and things are not easily seen." Kainula sounded nervous; that increased the uncertainty that had gripped Saint-Germain since he had left the care-house.
"I will," said Saint-Germain, and paused as he heard shouting ahead. He motioned Kainula off to the side of the path, and in less than a minute was glad he had done so: a group of men from one of the work-gangs came running heedlessly along the dyke, parcels clutched to their chests, panic in their eyes as they fled. As soon as the first group had passed, Saint-Germain motioned to Kainula. "There will be more. We should stay off to the side as far as we can without risking sliding into the river."
"Some of the bank is unstable," said Kainula.
"Everything wet is unstable," countered Saint-Germain. "So we must be doubly alert."
Another twenty men or so hurried by them, most of them soaking wet, with their packs of their few belongings held over their heads for protection. Then from farther along the path came the moaning sound of wood about to crack, and Saint-Germain lifted the lantern, hoping its small beam would penetrate the hail and darkness.
"There!" shouted Kainula, pointing ahead and slightly to the right. The huge open wheel of the treadmill was canted at an angle, the strong triangular supports that held the axle had sagged into the muddy ground, and the pump had shifted off its housing.
"It's going to fall," said Saint-Germain. As he spoke, one of the supports snapped, its breaking as loud as thunder; the huge wheel tipped and ponderously slid down the broken levee into the marsh, crushing the rest of the pump mechanism as it went.
"The men could be crushed," said Kainula, yet he remained where he was. "How do we get down?"
"If we could get across the breach in the levee, there might be a way," said Saint-Germain. He aimed the lantern's beam at the broken section of levee and saw that it was too broad to jump; at both edges of the break, more of the wall was crumbling into the stream of muddy water that poured down the packed earthen wall.
A group of a dozen men came running along the path, all wide-eyed and distraught as they rushed away from the fallen treadmillpump. As they fled, a man with a nasty gash across his forehead trudged after them, cursing them, his heavy supervisor's whip raised in threat. He called the men worse than cowards, deserving of nothing but death. He took no notice of Saint-Germain and Kainula as he followed his work-gang, still berating them.
"That man is a fool," said Saint-Germain, more to himself than to Kainula.
"He is a supervisor. He must do the work he is ordered to do, or face the consequences of his laxness. He can't let his men desert their gangs." He lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the hail. "His life could be forfeit if he did."
Saint-Germain turned to look at the Karelian. "Men who rule by threat can never rely on those they threaten," he said before walking on toward the ruined treadmill. "It will need to be repaired. The pump-housing will have to be replaced, and the wheel rebuilt." He shone the light down into the marsh, where he could see a dozen men struggling in water that was as high as their waists. "Are there any ladders we can use to reach down to them?"
"I don't know," said Kainula. "I'd guess they were kept in the camp, with the men. They usually are, so they don't get stolen."
"A good precaution, but not useful just now," said Saint-Germain, noticing that the hail was getting worse as the wind sliced across the river and the island. He was a bit surprised that it did not turn to snow, but remained hardened ice pellets that struck with the impact of bird-shot. "Do you Watchmen have no deputies to help work-gangs?"
"There are some, but not out here." He pointed to a pair of workers who were struggling to climb the bank, but kept falling back into the water as the bank collapsed. "Think, Hercegek--many of them have got out. Those remaining are weak already."
"Is there any rope we could throw to them?" Saint-Germain looked about, using the lantern to identify covered stacks of supplies. "What about those?"
"We aren't allowed to touch them," said Kainula.
"Men are going to drown, or freeze," said Saint-Germain.
"Watchmen can have their hands struck off for taking supplies," Kainula told him bluntly. "At the least, I would be knouted."
Saint-Germain knew the knout from his time in Moscow, just over a century ago, and he shuddered at the memory. "Then I will look, and the Czar may order me to leave Sankt Piterburkh if he wishes. I cannot stand here and watch men die and do nothing." He picked his way along the dyke to the first covered heap. He pulled up two of the stakes holding the tarpaulin in place, flung the canvas back, and discovered a cone of shovels and rakes. He secured the tarpaulin and went to the next covered heap. Here he found three lengths of heavy rope and four work-stools. He pulled out two lengths of rope, fastened the tarpaulin down, and carried the rope back to Kainula. "If we stand on the dyke, we should be able to help these men climb up."
"If they pay any attention to your help." Kainula took the rope and tested its weight. "This is very strong."
"That it is," said Saint-Germain; he could feel the hemp fibers press into his palms. "You will need something to help anchor you," he went on. "The foot-stone on the treadmill should be strong enough."
"What about you?" Kainula asked. "We cannot both straddle the foot-stone."
"I will find something," Saint-Germain assured him, knowing that in spite of the running water all around him, his strength would suffice to pull men out of the muddy water. "Hurry. The water is getting deeper."
Kainula made his way to the edge of the fallen treadmill and began to wrap one end of the rope he had been given around the foot-stone. "What now?"
"Call down to the men and have those who can climb up. I will shine the lantern on you, and then I will secure my rope." Saint-Germain turned the lantern, and heard Kainula begin shouting.
"Over here! Workmen, climb up the rope! Come up!"
Saint-Germain wrapped his rope bandolier-style across his chest, then tossed the end down the side of the levee. "Come up! There are two ropes!"
For the next quarter-hour they continued to shout, and during that time fifteen men managed to clamber up the ropes to the path. That left twice that number in the water, a few of them still floundering, but most of them already numbed by cold and terror and unable to help themselves, succumbing to exhaustion and pervasive cold. As the last man who could clawed his way to the foot-stone, Saint-Germain tried to find some way to descend to bring up those men still alive.
"Hercegek!" Kainula shouted, pointing down the path toward the second treadmill.
"What is it?" Saint-Germain shouted back.
"There are men coming. I can see lanterns." He motioned to the men huddled on the ground around them. "They'll have their hands full. I hope they brought blankets."
"Kainula! Can you see who they are?" Saint-Germain turned the direction the Karelian had pointed; there were undoubtedly men coming bearing lanterns.
"They must be my comrades and the men from the care-house." His voice was getting harsh and ragged from shouting and cold.
"Are you sure?" Saint-Germain called back. He busied himself with winding up the rope in preparation for restoring it to its place. His cloak had grown sodden and his fox-fur hat was soaked and clinging to his head. The cold was keen, but it bothered him very little, though he knew the men huddled on the ground around him and Kainula were suffering from it, and unless they were soon out of the storm, it would endanger their lives.
"It must be," Kainula responded. "Who else would be out here on such a night?"
"The army might be patrolling, or the new Guard," Saint-Germain ventured, then saw both Jascha and a man in a Guard's cloak come into the small circle of light the lantern provided. Behind the two were the other two Karelian Watchmen. They all carried oiled-wool packages, and the Guard at their head held two lanterns as well as an ominous halberd. As they came to a halt, it was clear that the Guard had taken command of the others.
"Hercegek," the Guardsman said, taking in the gathering; he was
uncertain how to proceed and compensated for his inexperience by taking an obdurate stance. "The Dutchman told us you had come out to inspect the damage here, it being your �gin. This is a great loss. There will have to be an inquiry as to why it fell." His breath smelled of garlic and beer; he had probably been half-drunk when he started on his way here, but cold and wet had rapidly sobered him so that now he spoke crisply, determined to show his purpose. "How many men do you have here?"
"Not nearly enough," said Saint-Germain, pointing down into the marsh. "Look there. Not all of those men are lost."
"We have fifteen men, Guard," said Kainula. "They're all soaked and shivering. They need to be moved, and quickly."
"If you would help me, I can go down one of the ropes and bring up a few more," Saint-Germain persisted.
Kainula paid no attention. "Jaakko, Tonu, start handing out blankets. Those that can't walk put on pallets, but start them all back toward the care-house."
The Guard held up his weapon. "Not yet, not yet." He rounded on Kainula. "The work-gangs: where did they go?'
"The far bank, I would guess," said Kainula. "It is the easier to climb."
"And the farthest from authority, so they might flee the island," the Guard said, making it an accusation.
"On a night like this?" Kainula asked incredulously. "If they find no shelter, they will die by morning. Why would they become fugitives when there is no place for them to go?"
The Guard leveled the point of his halberd at Kainula. "Those who desert will be counted against you, Watchman. You will answer for their absence." He swung his arm to signal the others to begin handing out blankets. "As soon as possible, get them off to the care-house. See that each man gives an account of himself as soon as he is indoors. Where are the supervisors?"
"I don't know," said Kainula. "When we went to fetch the Hercegek, some were still here. One had gone for the Guard--and since you are here, he must have reached you--a few of the others were trying to secure the treadmill, to keep it from falling. When I
returned with the Hercegek, we found only the men still in the water. On the order of the Hercegek, we put ourselves to the work of helping the last men climb out."
The Guard glowered at Saint-Germain. "Is this true?"
"I cannot say what the Watchmen saw before they sought me out, but Kainula's account of what happened after we arrived is accurate." He came up to the Guard and held out the coiled rope. "This may be put back with the supplies. If it has been damaged, I will pay for its replacement. The same for the rope the Watchman used."
"At the least you will replace it." The Guard gave him a hard stare. "You had no authority to take the rope."
"I would have used it to hold up the treadmill-pump that is my design, had there been men to man the ropes," Saint-Germain responded more calmly than he expected. "In that capacity, I am expected to use whatever supplies may be needed to save the �gin. Had there been more men to aid us, I believe the ropes would have helped keep the treadmill from falling. But in order to do that, we had to have more of the work-gang to help us, which necessitated taking as many men as we could out of the flooding marsh." He nodded to Kainula. "You can see that his rope is around the foot-stone of the treadmill."
Now the Guard was nonplussed. "It may be so; I will have to consult my superiors," he said while Tonu and Jaakko went among the fifteen men, putting heavy blankets around their shoulders and asking what gang they were from.
"The men need to be warmed, Aijus," said Jaakko. "The blankets aren't enough to warm them."
"Take them back to the care-house," said Saint-Germain. "And Klavdye, go back now and you and Kyril warm the bath-house. Tell Ludmilla to prepare a drink of broth-and-brandy for them; the same we have given Adolphus Gronigen after a day on the driving-box. Be sure you look at their hands and feet for blackening." He turned his attention to the Guard. "You need information from these men, but you will not get much now. Let them get warmed and dressed in dry clothes, and they will be able to tell you much more. If you are willing to wait until morning, most of them should be improved."
