The Relic (34 page)

‘I suffered, but I survived. I've witnessed cruelty and wickedness, but I've also seen courage, nobility, and love.' He paused and sought out Lucy in the crowd. Her blue eyes were fixed upon him. He raised his voice.

‘In Europe the people have torn down the prison walls and cast off their chains. Just as we must do now.'

Volkov felt the silence. No one moved. They had gambled and lost.

‘My experience is living proof of the folly of violence. Violence achieves nothing. It degrades us, if we have any part in it. It is self-defeating because the human spirit cannot be crushed for ever.

‘For myself I forgive the past. I want to serve my people, if they'll have me. I want to devote my life to the cause of liberty, of every man's right to speak his mind and to live without fear. I have no political ambitions. I belong to no organization. I have no supporters. Only my wife, to help me. I am home and I look with hope to the future. But first, I have brought something with me that belongs to the Ukraine.'

If only I had a gun, Viktor Rakovsky thought, I'd kill him now …

He heard Volkov clear his throat, and give a little cough.

‘But what I have brought home doesn't just belong to the Ukraine. It belongs to Russia and to all the Russian people.' He looked straight at Viktor. ‘If the President of our Parliament will escort us we'd like to go now to the Cathedral of St Sophia.'

Someone started to clap. Soon they were all applauding. Rakovsky came face to face with him for a moment. ‘I misjudged you, Volkov,' he said to himself. ‘You are a patriot.' Then he stepped back into the crowd and walked away.

It was over. The media had departed. The demonstration organized by the Ukrainian nationalist party had dispersed with a feeling of anti-climax. St Sophia's Cathedral had emptied, the arc lights were dismantled, the commentators were gone; the Patriarch had made a speech and announced plans for a Mass of thanksgiving.

The Volkovs had retreated to a hotel suite provided for them. They refused all invitations for the evening.

St Vladimir's Cross glowed red inside its shrine above the high altar. People of all ages started coming in little groups to stare up at it.

Many stayed to pray.

Acknowlegments

With grateful thanks to Denys Simmons and John Pither for all their invaluable help.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1991 by Anthony Enterprises Ltd

Cover design by Mauricio Diaz

ISBN: 978-1-5040-3260-5

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