by Tom Bradby
Ruzsky could not think.
“I would start walking, Prince Ruzsky.” Borodin leaned closer, his breath warm against Ruzsky’s ear. “Or perhaps you think she can escape?
“We had a telegram from the local police in Yalta. They found out that a very clever chief investigator went to see a girl in a sanatorium. So I think I will have them both.”
Ruzsky’s head pounded. His mind screamed at him to turn around.
“Start walking, Mr. Khabarin, and don’t look at her again or none of you will leave this clearing.”
Ruzsky looked at the guards towering over his son. He began to walk, concentrating on the sound of his boots in the snow.
The Okhrana men watched him approach.
He walked through the quiet of the Russian forest.
He could feel her eyes upon his back. Ahead, he saw that Michael was crying, and his son’s tears triggered his own.
“It’s all right, my boy,” he said.
As he crossed the tracks, Ruzsky whispered, “I’m sorry.”
He climbed into the sled and took his son into his arms. The driver cracked his whip and the sled jerked forward.
As it climbed the hill, Ruzsky could resist no longer. He turned and saw her standing alone on the clearing, watching him.
She did not move. Her eyes were fixed upon him until they disappeared from view.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
T he February Revolution in Russia broke out little more than a month after the end of this novel. It began with protests over food shortages and escalated rapidly as it became clear that the regime could no longer rely upon the loyalty of large sections of the armed forces. The fictional Dmitri had many real-life counterparts who were well aware of the dangers of having the capital’s barracks entirely full of reservists. Had the Tsar kept some of his more experienced soldiers in Petrograd, revolution might have been averted.
After the revolution, the Tsar was forced to abdicate. He tried to do so in favor of his young son, but soon realized this would mean that they would inevitably be separated-for all his many faults, there is little doubt Nicholas II genuinely adored his family-and handed the throne instead to his brother, Michael. However, Michael was soon forced to concede that there was no place in the new Russia for a Romanov tsar.
Lenin and many other revolutionaries returned from exile immediately after Nicholas’s abdication, but it seemed for a while as if a liberal, democratic Russia might emerge. However, a second revolution in October-a coup, in fact-left the Bolsheviks in charge, with drastic consequences. As many contemporaries predicted, the removal of Nicholas II led to a period of great suffering for all Russians. A stubborn man who had resisted all reform ended up pushing his people into a great catastrophe.
This novel is not history. I have striven hard to re-create the atmosphere of the time and to be accurate in all possible details, but it is a novel first and foremost. The telegrams quoted toward the end of the book are genuine, though it is most unlikely that the Tsarina did have a physical affair with Grigory Rasputin. Lonely, desperate, and half mad, Alexandra clung to the peasant priest spiritually, but the idea that the two could have become lovers still seems preposterous, even if it was believed by many contemporaries.
Anyone wishing to explore this extraordinary story further should read Edvard Radzinsky’s brilliant The Rasputin File or Alexandra: The Last Tsarina by Carolly Erickson. The best contemporaneous account of the old regime is Once a Grand Duke by Grand Duke Alexander, and the most complete and scholarly study of the revolution, A People’s Tragedy by Orlando Figes. I would also recommend Michael and Natasha by Rosemary and Donald Crawford, the story of the doomed love affair between Grand Duke Michael, brother of Nicholas II, and a divorcée.
Those wishing to take their research a stage further should go to a library and try to get hold of a copy of the memoirs of the French ambassador to Petrograd, Maurice Paléologue, which provide a fascinating, day-by-day account of the onset of revolution.
The imperial family and many other members of Russia’s former elite were, of course, executed by the Bolsheviks. The St. Petersburg of today is still brimming with reminders of a world that disappeared with them.
Tom Bradby
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