Konrad and Alexandra (pdf) - Rolf Gross

The Dadiani Castle
Zugdidi 1907
The Dadiani Castle
Ten years later, when he faced the guns of his pursuers, Vladimir would see the scene
in hallucinatory clarity: a large, dark room with a beamed ceiling, lead-trimmed stained-glass in
four arched, gothic windows through which the afternoon sun painted red, blue, and green
puddles of color on the floor, heavy Burgundian furniture, a fireplace big enough to roast a calf
in, the coat of arms of the Dadiani above its ledge.
Across this gloomy stage a young woman of Alexandra’s age in a dusty riding outfit
walked towards him. Tall, proud, with disheveled, dark hair and the blazing, blue eyes of the
mountain people. He was spellbound and so confused that he invuluntarily held on to a chair.
Tamara Dadeshkeliani had ridden two days from Svaneti to meet and guide them to her
father’s place in the mountains. Tamara was not given to many words. George Dadiani, who
next to her looked stunted with his thin, reddish hair, introduced her to his guests. Barely polite
she shook hands. Vladimir stuttered when he was introduced and barely managed to
awkwardly kiss her hand.
Alexandra watched their encounter with mixed sensations. Poor Vladimir is finished, she
concluded, all his worldly aplomb has deserted him. She had heard of her younger cousin, but
had never met her. Alexandra’s Dadiani grandmother had been a Dadeshkeliani and her
father’s good looks were hers. Grandmother Dadiani had died early, Grandfather had
remarried, a petite woman with flaming red hair, who had been the rage of Tiflis. God knows
from which Russian Jewess she had inherited her foreign looks. All her children had her blond
259