Anastasia's Secret

by Susanne Dunlap

  It was then, just before I put on my nightgown, that we heard a disturbance outside our window.

  “Oh, princesses! Let us sing you to sleep!” Variations of these words were yelled, chanted, screamed in the small yard so that it would be impossible for anyone to sleep. “Come on! Come out and dance with us! We won’t hurt you!”

  “I wish they would go away,” whispered Mashka, who was always rather fearful of the soldiers.

  “Don’t pay any attention to them and they will stop,” Tatiana said in her practical way.

  But then I heard mixed in with the yelling an occasional shout of “Nastya!” as the noise became more and more wild and impossible to ignore. “I’ll go and tell them to go away,” I said, pulling on the heavy sweater I had just taken off and wrapping myself in a warm blanket.

  “Nastya, don’t!” cried Mashka, but I pretended that the sound of the door shutting behind me drowned her voice out.

  I knew he would find a way! I thought with barely suppressed joy as I ran through the darkened house to the door that led out to the back. Without hesitating, I threw the door open.

  There in front of me were about twenty of the guards, all looking red-eyed and disheveled. I had never seen a group of men leer like that before, and suddenly realized how unwise it had been to go charging outside just because I thought I heard Sasha among them. I scanned the faces, and could not see his. The men began to inch forward toward me. I tried to run back through the door, but someone slammed it shut before I had a chance. “It’s not the tall one, but she’ll do.” “She’s a pretty little thing.” “Come here and make me feel good.” “Give us a kiss.” I shrank back until I was pressed against the door. I didn’t know what to do. I was on the verge of screaming, not caring that I would awaken the whole house for something that I had brought upon myself, when I heard a familiar voice in the back.

  “Stand aside! This is not what we agreed upon. Let me through.”

  I had never been so relieved to hear Sasha’s voice. He pushed through the crowd, pulling on his heavy jacket, his hair mussed as though he had been awakened from sleep. So it hadn’t been Sasha who had called my name. The blood in my veins turned to ice.

  He took me a little roughly by the arm and pulled me away from the door, which he opened. “Get back to your quarters, all of you!” Even though officers were a thing of the past in the new regime, Sasha’s tone of command sent everyone scurrying. He pushed me inside and closed the door behind us. We stopped in the dark. He took hold of my shoulders and held me arm’s length away. “What were you thinking! They might have torn you to shreds!”

  “I—I thought I heard you,” I murmured.

  “You think I would do such a thing as rouse this rabble to an unlawful action?”

  “I—I thought…” I couldn’t continue. I couldn’t tell him that I thought he had engineered a situation where we could meet in the most logical way possible, given the times. Clearly, he had planned nothing of the kind.

  “You have to understand. I’m doing all I can to protect you, and right now, that means being harsh and distant and making the soldiers and those who are coming soon to take over command believe that I have the same goals as they have.” Sasha’s arms had relaxed, and we gradually drew closer to one another, until he let his hands drop from my shoulders and twine around me and I passed mine around his back, and rested my head against his shoulder, tucked safely under his chin.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” I whispered.

  “You have to understand, more is at stake than a schoolgirl romance. It is your life, and the lives of your family.”

  “You think my feelings for you are childish? How can you say that, after all we’ve done. I don’t want to live without you!” I cried. He hushed me by putting his finger on my lips.

  “You are so young. You are beautiful. There will be many others, some one of whom might deserve you. But there will be no one if you do not live to meet them.”

  I knew in my heart that what he said was true. But I didn’t want to hear it. I knew I was being selfish wishing only for his love, because to continue as we had could have some terrible effect upon my entire family. I had seen how they dealt with anyone who showed obvious softening toward us. Kobylinsky would be the next to go, no doubt.

  “Nastya? Are you there?” It was Olga, coming through from our bedroom. She hadn’t seen us yet.

  Sasha kissed me hard and fast, then slipped out the door. I leaned against it and let the tears flow. Olga found me like that. “We were worried, we heard the men disperse, but then you didn’t come back. Why are you crying?” She put her arms around me and stroked my head.

  “Because, nothing… no one … we can’t ever…” I couldn’t continue.

  “Hush, darling. I know.”

  Together we went back to our room where Mashka and Tatiana sat up, wide awake, and flooded with relief when they saw us. “Let’s try to get some sleep,” Olga said, taking on her role of mother to us, as she was accustomed to doing when Mama was too overwhelmed with Alexei’s illness, or too unwell herself to do anything. I wondered if it was easier or more difficult to be Olga, who had been able to see more of life and the world before our imprisonment. I suspected it was equally difficult for all of us—a thought that did not comfort me as I fell asleep that night.

  CHAPTER 30

  It was in April that the new soldiers arrived in the town, some from Omsk, some from Yekaterinburg. They supposedly were there to ensure that the Bolshevik regime was carried out exactly, meaning no one had more than a certain amount of space to live in or retained any luxuries, or was entitled to anything more than the meanest rations. The two bands were not friendly with each other, though, and we heard stories about looting in the town, and random arrests of lawful citizens. Oddly, we were protected from all of this by our guard, but they could easily have been overrun or turned on us themselves, and I didn’t understand how Kobylinsky managed to keep control.

  Then one day, orders came from Moscow to arrest comrades Hendrikova, Dolgorukov, and Tatischev. The countess, the prince, and the general all moved into the Governor’s House with us, with Trina as well, who until this time had had the comparative freedom of the suite. The countess and Trina brought their maids with them, and suddenly we were very crowded indeed. It was a little warmer, so we could once again use the large hall to gather together, but we had almost no privacy, and the demands on our already limited sanitary facilities were extreme. Worst of all, Alexei had caught whooping cough from Kolya, and burst a blood vessel coughing.

  Although I teased and tormented him when he was well, Alyosha’s bad illnesses put me under a pall of despair. It was as if there were two Alexeis: the impish little brother with too acute an eye for what was going on around him, and the shriveled creature who embodied pain so completely that everyone near him felt it. This time was one of the worst ones. It reminded me of the time in Poland, first at Skernevizi then at Spala, when we thought he would die. He recovered then, but it was hard to imagine him well again when he was in the grip of such terrible pain.

  Dr. Derevenko called us all into Alexei’s room. We sisters stood clutching each other for comfort. Mama and Papa were at Alyosha’s bedside, looking on helplessly as he moaned in wordless agony, his eyes glassy and his face beaded with sweat. He was the color of the heavy sky before a blizzard.

  The doctor spoke. “We must all be prepared for the worst. I cannot get the usual medicines to relieve Alexei’s pain, and his fever remains very high.”

  “Is there nothing you can do for Baby?” Mama’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  “There is a new treatment, very experimental. I have what I need to try it, but there is no guarantee it will have any effect at all, and it could make him worse.”

  Mama turned and looked at all of us, as if to say, “What are you doing here? This is a nightmare world I inhabit with my son alone.” Papa took the cue and nodded to us, and we all filed out slowly and quietly.

  I wa
s with Papa in his study later when Dr. Derevenko came in to speak with him. “I cannot persuade the tsaritsa to make a decision about Alexei’s treatment.” He looked exhausted and pained himself. “I fear that if I do not do something his body will not stand the pain, and he will die.”

  Papa sighed. “My poor boy. Yet is death the worst? He has suffered so much in his short life already, more than most people ever do.”

  The doctor was silent for a moment. When he spoke, it was quietly, gravely. “This treatment I spoke of. It might work. But I must caution you that it could be dangerous.”

  “If I had only myself to consider, I would say let the boy expire and rest at last. But my wife. Sunny.” He paused, then looked up at the doctor with resolve. “You must do whatever you can.”

  The doctor bowed to him and left. Papa turned his attention to me. “Little Nastya, I know I can count on you never to repeat what you heard me say. If Alexei were still the heir, it would be different. But he is just a boy with more than his share of sorrow and pain.”

  I went to him and kissed him on the cheek. He patted my arm. I’m not sure he ever really forgave me for being a girl, especially since Alexei had turned out to be so ill. But the more I understood about what it must have been like to have to rule a country as vast as Russia, the more I forgave my papa anything.

  We held our breath for the next twenty-four hours, and gradually our mood lightened as Alyosha’s terrible moans subsided. To everyone’s surprise and relief, Dr. Derevenko’s remedy worked. Alexei did recover, but was extremely weak after his attack.

  Outside our little world, which was centered on Alexei’s condition, changes and upheavals continued. The soldiers from Yekaterinburg had gone off to raid a small city to the north of Tobolsk. Others came to take their place. But disaster struck on April 22, when a train that had been shrouded in secrecy along its route arrived in Tyumen, its passengers disembarked, and carts and horses navigated the rough roads down to Tobolsk. The mysterious official was a special envoy from Moscow, sent to shatter our world.

  Kobylinsky came to tell us the news. “I’m as surprised as anyone. I had no idea he was coming, and have still not been told the reason for his arrival.” The colonel paced up and down the hall. Our eyes followed him back and forth.

  “Perhaps they will take us to Moscow and put us on trial once and for all,” Mama said.

  “I don’t know. But the fellow addressed the guards, showered them with praise for carrying out their mission to keep you imprisoned.”

  “Does he have any real power, this one?” Papa asked.

  “As much power as anyone could have. His orders were signed by Sverdlov himself, and Sverdlov has a direct link to Lenin. This fellow can have anyone he chooses executed without a trial.”

  A chill ran through me. I thought of Sasha and the good colonel, who had been secretly trying to help us escape, even if their efforts had come to nothing so far.

  “You’ll have a chance to judge him for yourself tomorrow. He will visit you,” Kobylinsky said.

  We were all anxious about this strange new development, and few of us ate much of our meager dinner.

  The next day, three official-looking men came to see us. We were all gathered together in the hall. The men were Yakovlev, Khokhriakov, and Rodionov. Yakovlev was the leader. Very well spoken and courteous. He asked us our names and inquired about our health. They even went to Alyosha’s room to question him, as he was still unable to sit up, let alone get out of bed.

  “I am here to inform you that your guard and Colonel Kobylinsky have been relieved of their posts.”

  For an instant, I wondered if they could be setting us free. Had they at last decided that we were no threat to anyone, and might be allowed just to live in peace somewhere in the wilds of Siberia? My hope was short-lived.

  “My men will take over the guard. They have strict orders not to harass you, but will deal with any breach of security in the harshest way. I need not tell you what that is.”

  I shuddered again for Sasha. What could this mean for him?

  I soon discovered that I should have been much more concerned about what it meant for us. Yakovlev returned a day or so later with his two assistants. They looked serious and arranged themselves in a row in front of the door as if they wanted to prevent us from running out.

  “Nicholas Romanov, I have orders to remove you from Tobolsk.”

  Mama cried out and clutched her throat. “No! You cannot take him from his family!”

  “Comrade Romanova, I can do whatever I want, and the ex-tsar is to come with me under guard. I will give you a few hours to arrange your affairs and decide whether anyone will accompany you.”

  “I refuse to leave my wife and children!” Papa said.

  “If you persist in this unwise attitude, you will be forcibly removed, as would anyone who defied the orders of the Bolshevik government.”

  Yakovlev never changed the tone of his voice. He was clearly a man not accustomed to being defied in any way. He simply turned and walked out with the other two men.

  Mama retired to her sitting room, unable to face anyone. Demidova went with her. The rest of us sat and stared at one another, uncertain what to do or think. At last the members of the suite scattered into other parts of the house, perhaps to be alone with their thoughts.

  I could hear Mama pacing back and forth across the floor of her bedroom. It was unlike her to be so restless and disturbed.

  “We must talk this through,” Tatiana said, calling us all from our private musing.

  “Papa cannot go alone. We cannot let him,” Olga said. “I shall accompany him.”

  “No!” I said. I couldn’t bear the thought of sensitive Olga, who was prone to sickness and still coughed from the German measles, being the only defense for Papa against heaven knew what. Besides, she was so lovely, she could put herself in danger just by traveling with him. “Perhaps I should go,” I said.

  “You are too young,” Tatiana said.

  “I am nearly seventeen,” I said. “I am of age!”

  “Mama must go with Papa. It is the only way.” This was Mashka. Mama was weak too, but we all realized that she would never forgive herself if she allowed him to go away without her, remembering those anxious times when he abdicated and could not get back to Tsarskoe Selo. “And I will go with them too, since I am the strongest of us. Tatiana must stay and nurse Alexei. Olga, you are the oldest so you can run the household and deal with the guards.” As usual, Mashka—plump, gentle Mashka—had seen exactly what had to be done, not so much on a practical level as Tatiana would see it, but on a level that went deeper and got at the truth.

  “And me?” I asked. “What about me? Am I to have no task when everyone else is allowed to be helpful and strong?”

  Olga answered. “You have the most difficult task of all, Nastya. You must ensure that we do not become too sad and hopeless.”

  They still thought of me as the clown. The one who would always find a way to make everyone laugh. Roller-skating on the Standart. Throwing snowballs. Changing the words to songs to make them funny. Well, I supposed, it was something anyway. I realized they assumed that, because I was the youngest sister, I could be cheerful because I didn’t understand fully what was happening to us. But I had more experience of love, at least, more than they did, and knowledge they could not imagine concerning our imprisonment, which I had gained through Sasha. It comforted me to know that. I had developed a very realistic view of life, and deep experience of love and distance and sorrow and abandonment. Even though I knew that Sasha was acting in our best interest at that time, I still could not help feeling abandoned by him. And I knew, better than the rest of them, that clowns are often the saddest people of all.

  “I’ll go talk to Mama,” Tatiana said. She was the right person to do it. She had always been closest to Mama, and Mama trusted her with Alexei’s care.

  Tatiana stayed with Mama and helped her decide what to bring with her, which photographs were too prec
ious and important to leave her possession. She had already sewn as many of her private jewels as she could inside her clothing, or covered them with cloth to disguise them as buttons. She brought her Bible and several icons. We all gathered at the little chapel in the hall to pray before dinner.

  Everyone came together for dinner, but hardly anyone could speak. Only small pleasantries, and questions about whether Mama and Papa had remembered certain necessities.

  They would leave sometime that night. It was all so sudden, after the weeks it had taken for us to prepare our departure from Tsarskoe Selo. Things were different. We stayed up with them. We all wanted to spend as much time together as we could. We clung to Mama and Papa, saying that soon we would be joining them wherever they were going.

  Mama’s good-byes to Alyosha were the most difficult of all. Although he was becoming a young man, in his illnesses he became totally dependent on her. I could hear his sobs from the hall where we waited to see them off.

  At three in the morning, the carts pulled up to the gate. They were springless, uncomfortable vehicles, designed to cope with the rough conditions of the roads from Tobolsk to Tyumen, which at this time of year would be especially awful. They could not go by boat, the more comfortable alternative, because ice still clogged the Siberian rivers.

  Mama’s cart had a hood at least, but there were no seats in any of them. Someone brought some straw from a pigsty and wool rugs to cover it, so Mama could at least be cushioned. Anna Demidova went in another cart, so she would be with her to see to her personal needs, and Chemodurov went to help Papa. Dr. Botkin took his case with him, insisting on going with his patient, Mama. In a way, it was hardest for me to bid adieu to Mashka. We had spent almost every moment of our lives together, sharing a room, playing, taking care of one another.

  “Take this icon with you,” I said, giving Mashka a little ivory locket I kept with me all the time. “May it protect you on your way. And write to me every day—you must promise, even if you cannot post the letter. I want to know what you’re thinking, how your journey goes, what you eat, how they treat you—everything.” Mashka got in next to Mama, and Papa had to ride with Yakovlev. I tried hard for the sake of Alexei and my parents not to cry. They did not want to leave us unprotected without them, I knew. The new guards hadn’t been there long enough for them to know if they could be trusted.