Verushki said something to his men in Russian, and then he glanced at Shad and me. “You both recently became aware that I speak English, so there’s no need for linguistic games.”
Without seeming to, he’d noticed both of our reactions outside.
And now, almost as a compliment, Shad said quietly, “I’m pleased for all of us t’ see that you’re a smart sonofabitch.”
Verushki said two words in Russian and every rifle in the room was suddenly cocked, with deadly, dry metallic sounds.
Rostov said quickly, “The word ‘sonofabitch’ is colloquial, Colonel, and has nothing to do with one’s ancestry.”
“I’m aware of both that and the impertinence intended.” Verushki looked at Rostov and at the uniform he was wearing. “I agreed to listen to you. But I presume you understand that, as of now, you and your outlaw cossacks are under arrest.”
Rostov said, “And the firing squad is already waiting, undoubtedly.”
There was a tight, deadly moment, and then Shad stood up and began one of the great speeches ever made. “That kind a’ trouble is sort of what we’re here t’ talk about.” He walked over to the closest Imperial Cossack and put the tip of his finger lightly on the muzzle of the rifle being held by that suddenly astonished man. Then, with his finger still on the muzzle, he gently pushed the barrel slightly to one side. It was such an audacious move that the only reaction in the room was one of stunned silence. “You know, Colonel,” Shad said easily, “if he shoots right now, it’ll blow off about half of my finger—and I’ll kill this poor Imperial Cossack bastard dead before he even knows he’s made an unfortunate mistake.”
Verushki snapped an order in Russian, and the still astonished man slowly released the hammer on his rifle, uncocking it. Then, as Shad turned toward him, Verushki said, “Was there some sort of point to that idiotic flamboyancy?”
That was a six-bit word to use, but Shad came back with a pretty good one too. “It’s got t’ do with economics.” He let that word sink in, and then continued. “That finger a’ mine ain’t worth a whole lot because I’ve got nine more t’ go. But like I said, I’d have killed your man. And that would have led t’ all kinds of hell in this here immediate vicinity.”
Verushki was frowning, but he forced the frown into a small, thin smile. “Are you trying to tell me that we should be afraid of you?”
Shad’s voice took on a low, hard edge. “I’m not tryin’ t’ tell you. I’m tellin’ you. First off, Colonel, we’re all armed, and damned well armed, and we’ll stay armed because no man in his right mind will be about t’ try t’ disarm us. Now second, consider my little finger against your life, Colonel. Much as I’m fond of that little finger, I seriously doubt you would agree that one’s worth the other. And if a fight starts here and now, I guarantee that you will not be one of the few people who gets out of this room alive.”
“And you and your men?” Verushki’s eyes were hard and thoughtful.
Shad shrugged a little. “We’d all wind up dead, and I’d be one a’ the first t’ go. But then, Colonel, after all the bloody carnage that’d take place in this room, another bad thing would happen t’night. With you an’ about half a’ your men dead or wounded, fifty of the toughest, meanest, best-armed men in the world would come into town, curious t’ find out what the hell happened to us.” He paused briefly. “I guess, while you’re at it, you could measure that little finger of mine against all of Khabarovsk.”
Verushki studied Shad thoughtfully, his hands folded together before him on the desk. “If you’re bluffing, it’s quite impressive.”
“Just try me, Colonel.”
“I presume there is some alternative to these disastrous events, and I further presume that alternative is the reason you’re here.”
“That’s exactly what I’ve been talkin’ about. Economics. It’d be downright silly an’ unfeasible for you t’ be dead and dishonored and Khabarovsk burned down, all for one damned little finger.”
“In my opinion,” Verushki said slowly, “you must be very heavily outnumbered.”
Rostov stood up then, and as he did so, several rifles were now turned toward him. He glanced at them disdainfully, as though they were wooden toys held by children. “Even in this room we are outnumbered, Colonel. But I suggest you also consider wisely the economics of the human spirit. Sometimes, because of that spirit, one man can be worth many in a battle.”
Whether he thought we were bluffing or not, Verushki was losing ground and he knew it. He said gruffly, “Fine words, from a traitor cossack!”
“From a free cossack,” Rostov growled, glaring darkly at the colonel. “Not from one of the Tzar’s whores on horseback!”
There was a deathly still, damnere fighting moment there, but then Shad broke it up with a flat, hard voice. “We ain’t got all night,” he said to Verushki, who was smoldering with anger. “So let’s get back t’ simple economics. You electin’ for the previously discussed trouble t’ start right here an’ now? Or ya’ want t’ consider some other, more amicable arrangement?”
Verushki still didn’t back down, even though he knew every man in that room might be dead in no time flat. With an icy calm, he said, “I agreed before to listen to what you had to say.”
“Us an’ some a’ these free cossacks’re takin’ some cattle north. We’ll only be here a week or so and we’ll be peaceful as hell, as long as you are.”
“If such a peace were established, and then broken, do you really think you could win against me?”
“Jesus Christ!” Shad said. “I just know that there’d be pure hell t’ pay! That’s the whole reason for my goddamned lecture on economics!”
“If you did win, Colonel,” Rostov said levelly, “it would be a Pyrrhic victory.” He must have guessed that he’d lost some of the rest of us there. “A victory in which the winner is hurt so badly that he, himself, also dies.” He added grimly, “The word ‘Pyrrhic’ has a certain similarity to ‘funeral pyre.’”
Verushki studied all of us for a long, quiet moment before he finally reached a decision. “Perhaps it may be possible for us to reach an honorable understanding among ourselves.” He spoke a brief, low order in Russian and his men, puzzled but obedient, now uncocked and lowered their guns. Then Verushki gave Shad a hard, bitter look. “But this is in no way amicable. I’d like nothing more than to cut off that damned finger of yours and keep it as a souvenir of this meeting.”
Shad said, “We ain’t expectin’ a parade. Just a workable agreement.”
It took about an hour for the colonel and us to agree on what our agreement was. And shortly after that the eight of us walked back out onto the square. There were still a number of Imperial Cossacks standing around who stared at us with hate-filled eyes but did nothing to interfere with us.
For our part, we did our best to seem like we were casually ignoring them, but I for one still felt as tight in my chest as a stretched rawhide drum. “Goddamn!” Slim muttered so that only we could hear him. “I was sure mainly convinced we’d never git outta there in upright positions!”
As he untied his black, Rostov said, “In chess, Northshield, we’d call you a Grand Master.”