Some of the events that occur in this chapter, as well as some more to come, were inspired by the book "The Romanov Files 1918-1953".
July 22nd, 1918.
Alexei Nikolaevich Romanov.
I miss my father. I was dreaming papa and I were on a boat sailing the Dnieper River, where we used to go sometimes in our spare time. My mother and sisters were there too at times, like when they visited us, and then they disappeared. Dreams are weird like that.
Maria and Anastasia were playing "I spy", giggling every time one of them said something funny that was clearly not the correct answer. I laughed with them. Olga and Tatiana were just enjoying the view, often smiling at their younger sisters´ silliness. Olga was happy. I felt so happy.
Papa was using his characteristically soft voice to tell me about the parade we would assist next to encourage our brave troops and the hospitals we would visit to comfort our wounded. Mama was asking me about the things I had done while she and the sisters were back home working at the hospitals. Tatiana asked too sometimes. It was so beautiful, the blue skies, the sun, the river… then I found out I was dreaming.
I do not like it when that happens. You are having a nice dream and then suddenly you realize it is just a dream. At least that means I can control the dream so it won't become a nightmare.
I keep dreaming. This time I choose what I dream. I am now playing with papa a game in the fountain, where we both end up soaked with water. I remember that game, it was so fun!
I am playing in the snow with my four sisters when the dream becomes a nightmare again, not because of anything that happens, but because of the things I start feeling. I become aware of how distant those memories are. They are impossible to repeat. They are gone forever. Papa and mama are dead. Tatiana, Maria, and Anastasia are far away from here.
I am desperate to see them again and play with Anastasia. Now, not in a few weeks, not when I die.
I remember the night they died. The memory of my mother´s open skull in particular frightens me terribly. When life left their bodies the light in my world disappeared. It was taken somewhere else. Poor papa, so kind, so worried about us. Poor mama, always in pain, always caring more about other people´s pain, especially mine.
I cry in my sleep. Well, I am no longer sleeping. I cry as I lie awake with my eyes closed. I want my parents back most of all. I miss them. I want to be held and hugged by papa, and to have my hair ruffled and kissed by mama. I felt so safe while they were around, even when I was in pain, or worried about something. I want them to tell us everything is going to be fine.
It is harder to be reassured by God´s will without my parents speaking to us about it, but it was so comforting to hear about before. My parents were wise and knew what they were talking about. I knew whatever they said was the truth. I was safe.
Please God, make me feel comforted by the knowledge it is all in your hands again, please take care of my parents, make them happy and not worried about anything, and...
My sister really is crying in her sleep.
"Mercy!" That is what she cries. "Mercy!"
I want to wake her up from the nightmare, but I don´t want to get out of bed. I need to stay there to get better and stop causing so much trouble for once.
My leg hasn´t hurt all night, but that must be the morphine working. The pain will return.
"Olenka!" I yell in my bed to wake her up. "It is just a dream, Olenka!"
There is a lamp on top of the nightstand between the beds. I sit up to turn it on.
"Olya!" I scream, louder this time. She wakes up and looks around the room with terrified eyes.
"Oh, I am sorry sunbeam, did I wake you up?" Olga sounds confused. Why is she worried about me?
"No, it is fine," I say. "I was already awake."
"Does your leg hurt again?"
"No, no."
"You had a nightmare?"
"No. I am fine."
"Why are you crying?"
"It is nothing."
"It is all right if you had a nightmare."
"No, you had a nightmare!" My tone is harsher than intended and she seems hurt by that.
"Why are you talking to me like that Alyosha?" My sister asks, not sounding angry, just sad.
"I am sorry!" I sob. I don´t want to make her feel worse. She still seems confused, and how could she not be? She had a nightmare and then I was so rude. I do not know what is happening.
"I could sleep in your bed if you had a nightmare", she offers.
"I didn´t have a nightmare!" I yell again. I becoming so tired of her nagging.
I hear a knock on the door and let out a short scream. Olga does the same.
"It is me, Sergei, I am sorry for scaring Your Imperial Highnesses", the voice comes from the other side of the door. "Get ready, I will wait right outside to take Your Imperial Highnesses to the cafeteria for breakfast, we leave in an hour".
Olga and I laugh about how silly we were. We are being so stupid nowadays, getting scared over everything.
"I am sorry Olya", I apologize. "I didn´t have a nightmare, I just miss our parents".
She stands up, sits on my bed, and gives me a hug. I hug her back tightly, as if the strength I am using to hug her could make all her pain disappear. I wipe my tears when she pulls away, feeling a bit better.
Olga dresses quickly, putting on the clothes Anastasia gave her and hiding her knife there. She also keeps the peasant headscarf and puts the revolver back in my pocket. I hate that stupid thing.
Sergei carries me downstairs. Valeriy and Anastasia are waiting for us in the cafeteria, already drinking coffee.
Anastasia is dressed in a nursing uniform similar to the one my sisters used to wear. It is white except for the red cross on her chest and includes a white veil that covers most of her hair. She has brown hair and eyes. Her eyelashes are long and pretty. Her eyebrows are full and almost meet, but that only makes her look prettier.
I am glad I did not cry this time when Sergei carried me or needed Olga to hold my hand in front of our new friends.
Being carried feels empty whenever it is someone new doing it though. I wish I could turn my head around and see papa´s familiar face again, or Mashka´s. I would give either of them a hug they would return with affection. I never noticed how much I enjoyed having my loved ones carry me until now.
It is not the same with strangers. I wish I could walk.
Oo
"Oh, this is delicious!" Olga exclaims once she gets a cup of coffee herself. "How I have missed coffee! In captivity, it is a rare occurrence".
My sister looks relaxed, which makes me smile.
While we eat our breakfast, Valeriy, Anastasia, and Sergei tell us lots of interesting things about their travels through Siberia searching for information about us.
"Thank you all for this food, it is the best we have had in months", I say, and they all smile.
"You are very welcome Your Imperial Highness", Sergei says to me, then he turns to my sister. "Your Imperial Highness, if you allow me to…"
"Oh, not again Sergei! You and Charles argued about this all night long, he was probably relieved after leaving earlier today!" Anastasia exclaims. "They have suffered enough, they want to reunite with their family!"
"No, it is all right", Olga says. "What were you going to say? Oh, and Sergei, I insist that you can call us by our first names and patronymic, there is no need for so much formality, you have saved us from a terrible situation."
"Oh, I wouldn´t dare Your Imperial Highnesses!" Sergei says.
"No, seriously, most of our servants called us by our names, papa didn´t want us to be spoiled in any way", my sister insists.
"All right," Sergei smiles. "I am not sure about addressing… you in such familiar terms, but if Your Imperial Highnesses… I mean, if… you have no problem with it, I will try. I was about to advise you to reconsider your next locati…"
"Sergei…" Valeriy says, rolling his eyes and sounding annoyed.
"The heir´s escape is a true miracle!" Sergei yells, turning his eyes towards Valeriy.
Valeriy and Anastasia both open their eyes wide for an instant. Then, at the same time, they put their index fingers in their mouths to shut Sergei up, all while giving him a deadly stare. I think it is funny how they mirror each other.
My sister also looks scared. My own heart almost stops. I look around the cafeteria. Some of the people are indeed staring at us.
"I am sorry", Sergei whispers, realizing his mistake.
"The heir´s escape is a true miracle", Sergei repeats, murmuring this time. "An amazing story, like the story of Tsarevich Dmitri surviving, which was sadly untrue and paved the way for the false claimants during the Time of Troubles. This time it is real, we have the real Tsarevich, and a real story. We need to use this opportunity to present him to the people still loyal to the Romanovs in the White Army!"
"For the love of God, Sergei", Valeriy says. "You want to take a sick boy and his battered sister even further away from their closest free relatives, and for what? Some move in the hopes of making monarchism relevant again? To make a child an Emperor and give him responsibilities he is not well equipped for? What an irresponsible thing to do! You would be putting him in danger again! What he needs is a family to ensure he is loved and well cared for."
My knee starts hurting again as soon as Valeriy mentions that, as if my leg had heard him reminding everyone that I am sick. I know it is stupid. The effects of the morphine may have simply worn off, but that is what it feels happened.
Valeriy is right. I don´t want to become Tsar. This is all over for good. A Tsar is supposed to protect his people, and I couldn´t even protect my own sisters. I didn´t lift a finger in the cellar while they were being taken away upstairs. I was truly a coward.
I couldn´t protect Olga either. I was the main reason she was hurt so terribly in the first place. Even papa knew I was too sick to reign, which is why he abdicated for me as well as himself when they stopped his train and made him give up the throne during the riots in Petrograd.
Papa also abdicated for me because he feared they would separate me from him if I became Tsar. My chest tightens and my eyes fill with tears when I think about that… my father really loved me. Papa may be gone, but I know he would have wanted me to be with my grandmother. I manage to hold the tears back.
"Papa abdicated for me", I inform them, trying to keep my composure. "I can´t be the Tsar anyway. I am too sick to do my duty properly. I want to go home with my grandmother".
"Forgive me Your Imperial Highness, but that wasn´t legal according to the Fundamental Laws of the Russian Empire", Sergei looks at me, sounding quite sure about what he is about to say. "The instrument of abdication was never officially published by the Imperial Senate. You are the legitimate successor, and the Fundamental Laws make no provision allowing the Emperor or a parent to strip a dynast of his succession rights. Instead, the affected dynast, yourself, would have to abdicate his own rights, and I beg His Imperial Highness to forgive me, but I find it difficult to see how His Imperial Highness could do so before attaining his majority. According to the Fundamental Laws, you are already the Emperor, and will be so until the day you die, unless you abdicate after you turn sixteen."
I stay silent for a while, staring at Sergei shyly. I understand everything he said, although it was a bit too much information to process so fast. At first, I felt annoyed when he claimed my father had done something illegal. I wanted to defend his memory. I really hope Sergei didn´t notice my frown.
Then I realized he was just stating facts about the law. Maybe my father did, indeed, break the law, but just because he loved me too much to put me at risk. The thought makes me emotional again. I miss my father.
Sergei is waiting expectantly for an answer to his argument, but I feel trapped. Papa used to say that power was a duty, not a privilege. He said power was like a cross, a terrible responsibility for the welfare of an entire country and its people that God had entrusted him with, which is why he didn't want to give anyone else a say over what happened in the government. If they made the wrong choice about something that would also be his responsibility.
If abdicating the throne for me was illegal, and now papa is dead, it is definitely my duty to take up that same cross… and I don't want it. I know it is selfish. If you want to follow Jesus you need to pick up your own cross, follow Him and all that stuff they say in church, but I don´t want any more trouble. The country has a lot of problems, like the peasant children dying young, which is why the revolution happened. I just don´t know how to fix any of that.
I don´t even know for sure what the root of all the problems is, or if there is more than one root. I would have to learn more about what is happening all around, and I have never been that good at geography, or math, or history… or any class.
I suddenly remember how far behind I must be with my lessons… what a bore! I will not have time to play anymore if I become Tsar, and I can´t even begin to imagine how boring the lessons about how to rule a country will eventually become.
Even if I were good at schoolwork I don't think I would have all the correct answers. The tutors may lie to me. Papa said people lied to the Tsar sometimes for their own selfish reasons. I think they lied all the time and that is why papa wasn´t able to do more. I think they still lie. Back in Tsarskoye Selo, everyone lied to me by saying all was fine when it wasn´t. Some generals betrayed papa without shame. I hate lies so much, but they are everywhere. What will I even be able to do for Russia if I can´t trust my own soldiers?
If I do something wrong people will get hurt and blame me and hate me even more than they already do like it happened to papa. I don´t want people to get hurt or hate me.
But if the new people in power do something wrong and people still get hurt, then, whatever happens, will also be my fault for not doing my duty, even if they don´t hate me for it. Oh, I don't want this! I truly am a prisoner again, and the pain in my leg really is back. I almost groan in frustration.
"I am not bothered by the idea of my brother becoming Emperor", Olga tells Sergei before I can come up with a good answer. "But there is no way that can currently be achieved given the circumstances without compromising Alexei´s safety and putting even more Russian lives at risk. As his sister, I cannot allow that. He might be the Tsar already in the eyes of the law, but he is also a minor, which means he should be with his relatives until he is old enough to decide what to do with his claim. I don´t want him to become a puppet at the hands of strangers with their own agendas."
I sigh. My dear sister is standing up for me. I nod in agreement as I look at her and then at Sergei. If Olga thinks it is fine for me to be relieved of my duty, I no longer feel guilty for desiring the same thing. Olga has always wanted the best for Russia, and she knew papa very well. I trust her.
"I completely understand your reservations", Sergei says. "But this is a critical time in history. There is a civil war going on and whoever wins will pick the destiny of Russia for the next hundred years. I can assure Your Imperial Highness that I wouldn't let any harm come to the Emperor, they would have to walk over my dead body", Sergei then turns to me. "You can´t be guided by personal desires in a time such as this, as the Tsar you belong to Russia, not yourself. Just imagine Your Imperial Highness, how extreme the Bolsheviks´ methods must be for socialists and monarchists to band together against them. Are you going to let them get away with the murder of your father? With the murder of your people?"
Now I feel guiltier than ever. I hate this. The right thing to do is accept, I think.
"I am sorry sir", I apologize to Sergei. "I am just scared, but you may be right."
The pain in my leg increases, but I won´t show I am in pain, not yet… if only I weren´t so weak…
"This is why I am not a monarchist", Valeriy mutters to his wife, who nods in agreement.
"Stop bullying my brother into agreeing with your badly thought out plan!" My sister exclaims. "It is me who will decide whether he goes or not, and what part of him being a minor do you not understand?" Her tone is firmer and slightly harsher this time. "Whatever happens to Russia is God´s will. If God wills for my brother to become Emperor, then I am sure it will happen someday, but we don´t have enough supporters to back his claim right now, which is clear as day, where were they when my father was shot? Where are they going to be when their child Tsar´s life is threatened? Saving their own skins?" She speaks sarcastically, extending her arms and raising her eyebrows in mockery. "I don´t know, probably!"
Listening to Olga defend me so fiercely comforts me so much. She is smart, so there must be some truth to her claim that Sergei´s plan is not well thought out. As long as she keeps doing so I will be all right.
Olga has finished talking, but when she notices Sergei is about to argue back, continues speaking up against his idea:
"And I don´t trust the Czech legion! I don´t want their help or to have anything to do with them when we go east. They are republicans. They only fought on the side of our allies to get their independence from the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Now they must be fighting the reds because they want to return home to keep struggling for their own fatherland. Even if that weren't the case, it would not be honorable for my brother to use a foreign army to support his claim. Also, the White Army can still rally behind him while he is safe in exile".
I sigh in relief again. I love my sister, and she loves me back as well, too much to agree with Sergei´s plan. Part of me is worried I am only taking her side to evade what I really think I must do though...
"It would not be only the Czech legion helping you, but the Cossack hosts and…" Sergei insists, but is stopped by Valeriy. The two of them start talking about money, specifically, how much they have and would need for each potential route to Vladivostok.
Olga rolls her eyes, which makes me smile for a second, but then I realize they are indeed taking us east.
All my limbs hurt now. I can barely move them. My left arm is almost rigid in the elbow. My arms are sore from using the crutches, my legs, from riding and walking. My cheek and lip hurt as if they were in flames, and the leg where that evil man kicked me hurts the most. I hate him as much as I hate Yurovsky and Ermakov, but I think everything he told me while the others were torturing my sister is true. I am weak and stupid.
I don´t think I will ever be good enough for this. I am in pain so often. My family has already been separated twice because of my illness.
Back when we were imprisoned in Tobolsk, they wanted to take my father away, apparently to Moscow for his trial or to sign the Brest-Litovsk treaty. There was a change of plans and we all ended up in Ekaterinburg.
If it weren´t for my illness, we would have all gone to Ekaterinburg together, but a simple cough had rendered me far too ill to travel.
Papa and mama had to leave without us. Maria left with them to help take care of mama, and the big pair and Anastasia stayed to take care of me until I was healthy enough to join them. I caused my family so much suffering by separating them and making them worry. I missed papa, mama, and Mashka so much during that trip, and my sisters did as well.
Sometimes I think I was born to cause problems. How could I be the one to fix them as well?
"What are we going to do with the tickets we paid to get to Kazan?" Valeriy asks.
"Nothing", Olga responds. "We have not changed our minds, we are still going to the Crimea",
Sergei seems sad and disappointed. I cannot bear to look at him, so I lower my gaze.
I feel so sad for him. His loyalty moves me. I wish I were brave enough to be who he wants me to be. I wish I weren't so sure I would ruin everything.
I wonder what papa would have wanted me to do if he were still alive. I fear he wouldn't have liked my cowardice, or how much I want to evade my responsibility, although maybe he would have been glad I am making the safest choice. He always wanted me to be happy. I prefer to think it would be the latter. He abdicated for me for a reason. Uncle Mimi didn't want the throne either, so it can´t be completely unforgivable to refuse it as well. My refusal may even be temporary.
"I am sorry sir", I tell Sergei once I gather up the courage to look him in the eyes again. "I didn´t mean to disappoint you, I just want to go home".
His face changes completely.
"Oh no, Your Imperial Highness!" Sergei exclaims. "My apologies, I didn´t mean to pester you. I just really want what is best for Russia, and what is best for Russia is having its legitimate, God-chosen ruler back."
I rub my leg to try to make it hurt less but stop when I notice Olga is looking at me.
"Maybe someday, Sergei, if God wills it", Olga says with a softer tone this time. Sergei gives her a sad smile, but seems to have accepted our refusal.
I relax. Even the pain in my leg diminishes slightly somehow.
"Well, let us go then, the ship sails at 8:00 AM", Anastasia informs us.
"My brother´s leg is hurting again", Olga announces. She has noticed. "Can you carry him?"
Oo
Valeriy and Sergei carry me on a stretcher all the way to the port while the women walk. It is a bit embarrassing and annoying since I can´t see where we are going while lying like that, but it is also a relief not to be using those stupid crutches. It was so painful.
Everyone but my sister and I will be traveling with bags and suitcases. There are probably clothes inside but I doubt any will fit me. It is funny to think I might be wearing the same clothes for days. Now that I look at them more carefully, they remind me of my friend Leonid´s clothes. I am wearing light brown pants held up by suspenders, just like him. The white shirt is soft and collarless. I can tell there were buttons before, but now they are gone. Leonid once complained to me about the lack of buttons in his shirt. Even the black sweater seems to be the same. Could these clothes be his? Did the reds steal them? Did they hurt Leonid?! I hope not. I breathe deeply and silently pray for him.
Valeriy stops by a local shop, leaving Anastasia to carry his side of the stretcher. He buys some newspapers and hands them out, giving one of them to my sister. Now we will finally have news from the outside world!
His wife takes out a book from one of her bags and lends it to Olga. Anastasia says she bought the novel during a short trip to England with her family before the war. Now we also have something to read on the journey!
How nice our new friends are!
Oo
There are red guards patrolling the port when we arrive. I sit up. My heart starts beating really fast when I see them. Olga moves closer to me. I have the urge to throw up.
"Don't panic Your Imperial Highnesses, I don't think they have received orders to look for you yet, it is too soon", Sergei tries to appease our anxiety. "If they ask we will just tell them the heir is a young red guard injured while fighting bravely in battle against foreign counterrevolutionaries. The Grand Duchess was attacked by one of them and is now joining the Red Army as any man would. We are on our way to Moscow to get volunteers with our story."
Even though I am still petrified, the idea of acting like a red guard is so amusing that I instantly start feeling better. I look at Olga. She seems less convinced, but nods.
I lie back down, relax, and think of the kind of face a red guard would make. It would be a serious and angry one most of the time. A face meant to show everyone how much you hate them. From my comfortable position, I glare at the other passengers about to board.
This is so fun. It is not embarrassing, I decide, because it is not really me looking at everyone with disdain right now. It is the red guard I am portraying. Just like in the plays my family and I put on in Tobolsk.
We pass the guards and board the ship without them giving us a second glance. The excitement made me forget the pain. We have truly fooled them all!
I giggle. Olga shakes her head when she notices me.
Oo
This ship is bigger than the one we used to leave Perm, and there are a lot more passengers. I hate thinking about that other steamer though. It scares me.
Olenka and I get a cabin just like before. The Kirilovs get another and Sergei gets his own room right next to ours.
Olga and I don´t notice when it is that we sail because we shut ourselves in our cabin to rest. My legs and arms hurt a lot now, so I am lying in bed. Olenka is sitting next to me and is about to read the newspaper out loud.
"What do you think about our saviors, Alyosha?" Olga asks me before she starts.
"They all seem fine, they are helping us", I shrug. "They have been very good to us."
Olenka seems unconvinced for some reason.
"I think I trust Sergei", she says, which surprises me considering what he was trying to do. Olga seems to read my thoughts. "Yes, he wanted to do something terrible in my opinion, but I think he has good intentions. Sergei is a loyal Russian, one of the few left."
"What about Valeriy and Anastasia? They are nice as well, Valeriy bought us a newspaper and Anastasia gave us one of her books to read", I remind her. "She is also pretty", I add shyly. I hope Olga will not tease me about it. I would not have told this to Nastya.
"Yes darling, she is pretty", Olga chuckles, "and she and her husband are kind". She stays silent for a while as if thinking about something. "But they are also liberals."
"But they don´t hate us", I argue. Papa used to say liberals were troublesome, but I don´t think he hated them. He disliked many kinds of people but didn´t hate anyone. I am sure of that. Either way, all I want is for people to be kind.
"You might be right", Olga admits. "They are the good kind, at least for now it seems so. Mama considered Kerensky a gentleman even though he was a socialist." She smiles and ruffles my hair.
I feel sorry looking at her dear face like that. Olga is so good and selfless. I feel a rush of affection for my sister, so I sit up and give her a sudden hug, which makes her tense for a second before she hugs me back.
"Sorry", I say to her.
"What for?" She caresses my hair while hugging me still.
"For scaring you", I answer. She kisses my forehead and keeps hugging me in response. I don´t want to tell her what I am really apologizing for. She would just tell me it wasn´t my fault like Tatiana did and feel sorry for me. She does not need that right now. I have already been inconsiderate and misbehaved before. I kiss her cheek and then we pull apart.
"Do you think things would have been better for Russia and us if the Provisional Government had stayed in power?" I ask. "Papa always prayed so much it would be so, before… you know, the other revolution happened in October".
"Maybe Alyosha, I like to imagine it often too", Olga says. "But the ´if´ doesn't exist. It wasn't God´s will for that to happen, He had other plans."
Oo
Olenka starts reading the newspaper out loud. I lie back in bed to rest as I listen. The pain in my body is distracting but manageable.
The war is still going on. Now the Americans are fighting many battles as well. I think victory will come soon. The Germans can't fight against almost the entire world forever. They will eventually run out of manpower. A second battle is taking place in Marne and it seems our allies are holding on just fine. It is a relief, and Olga seems calm.
"I don´t think Crimea will be under German control for much longer", Olga grins. "Oh, look sunbeam! This article will interest you, it is about a relatively new English ace. His name is David Percival Williams."
Olenka shows me the picture of the ace near his plane. It catches my attention.
"Oh, that sounds interesting, remember how much papa loved planes?" I remember, feeling nostalgic. My sister nods, smiling as she remembers papa. Then she starts reading.
Oo
"He has 39 air victories! He was outnumbered in most of his battles!" I exclaim halfway through the article, impressed. "And they are all confirmed! That is awesome!"
My sister continues reading. The article is remarkably interesting and exciting, going into full detail about the dogfights in which the pilot obtained each of his victories.
"Williams was knighted after he was injured early in July landing behind enemy lines to save a friend whose plane had crashed", Olga reads. "If he achieves five more victories when he returns to action, he will have as many as Albert Ball!"
"Is Albert Ball the best ace?" I ask. "I want to see his picture as well."
I wish I could be as brave as them, as brave as Oleg and all our wounded friends. Not like I am.
"He wasn't, darling", Olga replies. "That would be Edward Mannock with 73 victories. Albert Ball was sadly killed in 1917 and received the Victoria Cross posthumously, he had 44. But Edward Mannock was only the best ace in England. The best ace in the whole war has been a German pilot, but I think he was also killed recently, I am not sure. Their pictures do not appear here."
"Ugh, I hope this new guy beats the German guy", I say.
"Well, I hope not."
I am surprised. Olga has never held her tongue when it comes to insulting the Germans. Once again she notices my confusion.
"I don´t want the war to go on long enough for this new pilot to achieve that many victories", Olga explains, and I realize my error.
"You are right", I admit. "I hope he doesn't even have time to return to battle. I hope this war ends soon and he stays home with his mother."
Sometimes, those amazing stories make me forget about how terrible war truly is. Papa tried to show me. I have visited our poor wounded soldiers in several hospitals. I have heard them moaning in pain and offered my comfort by holding their hands.
Once, during a parade, my father asked all the men who had been there since the beginning of the war to raise their hands. Only a small handful did because all the others who had been fighting from the start had already been killed. I will never forget that day. Still, I fail to remember it sometimes. I might not be brave, nor a real soldier. I may never be one due to my illness, but if I ever become Tsar I hope I can stop future wars from happening.
Olga and I pray for the war to end, and then we pray to see our sisters again soon. After doing so for a while, Olga suggests that we start reading the novel.
"Ugh, it is a girl book!" I exclaim in disappointment. Olga hadn´t even finished reading the title.
"Little Women, it is an old American novel", Olga raises her eyebrows. "Are you seriously going to complain about that?"
"I am sorry", I chuckle. "Who cares, continue. Let us see what it is about." My sister shakes her head in disapproval while smiling at me. Then she starts reading.
We are used to reading Russian classics, although my sisters and mother also read British and French novels.
The book Olga is reading, however, is not bad either. It is in English and reminds me of my sisters because there are four of them in the story and they all love each other. It makes me really happy and nostalgic at the same time. I just wish they had a little brother as well, so I could fit in.
They are also a family that was very wealthy and now is poor. Like us in a way.
The March family does the best with what they have and enjoy their time together. They even make plays, as our family did during captivity.
Olga laughs and says Meg reminds her of Tatiana because they both miss being able to dress up as elegantly as they wanted, although Meg actually complains about it. Tanya, apparently, tries not to make a huge fuss about it. If that is true, she hides it very well. I didn´t even know that bothered my poor Tanya.
I tell Olga that Jo's temper reminds me of her, but she denies being similar to Jo and even becomes slightly annoyed by the comparison, which I think proves my point. She says Jo is more similar to Anastasia because of her tomboyish nature, and that Beth is a combination of both Tatiana and Maria because of their hard work and gentleness.
Olga and I laugh at our attempts to compare the March sisters to our own, although it makes me feel sad as well because I miss my sisters.
We have to stop reading the book when lunch is served. We all sit at a round table in the dining room. The food is just as good as the breakfast.
This time I manage to grab the fork and knife because the wounds in my hands are already healing. I feel silly about how happy it makes me, especially when I see how pleased Olga becomes. I can´t move my left arm though. If I try to do so it hurts. I can barely even move my right arm as it is so my sister still has to help me eat. I hate it when that happens.
Sergei does not mention our previous arguments this time. He talks to us about his time working in the Okhrana, of how he went undercover in many revolutionary organizations and thus knows how to imitate their kind. He also tells us about his wife and children. He has two daughters who are in Omsk at the moment, one is pregnant. He also has two sons who have been taken as prisoners by the Germans.
"I am sorry to hear that", Olga says. "I hope they are being treated fairly."
Valeriy is really fun, he tells us all jokes and offers me and my sister cigarettes. We discuss the weather, books, films, and how the war is going, and by the time we are done, I feel as if I had known these people all my life.
Oo
After we finish eating and smoking, my sister and I go back to the cabin. Olga continues reading to me out loud until I start becoming too distracted by the pain to understand what is happening in the story. It is back in my legs and arms. My left arm hurts a lot and I can't move it.
I don´t go to dinner when Olga does. I am in too much pain.
I can´t sleep either. The aching in my legs is more intense than ever. Worse than it was all those times we slept on the porches. It is as if the soreness had been waiting for tonight to finally make itself truly known.
I try to hide it at first, as I don't want to disturb my sister's sleep.
Inevitably, I start making noises. First, it is just moaning, then groaning. Then I yell with my mouth closed. The sound comes from my throat. I can't help it, the pain is too intense.
Deep down I am glad to see my sister is coming to comfort me, but I am still ashamed of ruining her sleep. It is this and not the pain itself that makes me start crying.
"Oh, God", I groan. "Have mercy". It has become unbearable.
"It will pass", Olenka's voice is soft. "It always does". She holds my hand and I squeeze it tightly whenever the pain becomes stronger than usual.
I know it will pass. No matter how bad it gets, it always goes away eventually. It is all right. I am used to it. It will pass. She gently checks my leg without letting go of my hand.
"It is the knee", she says, but it is not only the knee. "This is just as bad as Spala."
I think the pain this time is worse than it was in Spala because now it is not only on one leg. I can't know for sure though, it was so long ago.
When I was eight years old, I almost died in our hunting lodge at Spala. I wasn't even kicked in the leg that time. I simply hit myself playing the way many boys do every day without almost dying.
My leg became as swollen as it is today. During the most agonizing moments, all I could do was wish for death and ask God for mercy like I am doing right now. They gave me the last rituals. They even printed the official announcements of my death. I asked mama for reassurance that it would not hurt any longer once I was dead. She promised me it would not.
The thought seemed comforting. It is even more so now that mama is in heaven.
Then I survived. Mama used to say it was our friend Grigori Rasputin who saved me from afar by praying. He did the same later during the war when I got a nosebleed and had to return home from Stavka.
Our friend is no longer around though, but I don't think he was the sole reason I survived. He had been dead for months when I had my attack in Tobolsk, and yet I was getting better before papa and mama were murdered.
I don't want to die now as I did then though. I already have experience with these attacks and know they won't last forever. God is testing me. These are my trials and my cross. I just need to be patient. I want to see my other sisters again in this life. Maybe our friend will watch over me from heaven and make sure I get better.
Another wave of pain rushes over me. Please God, make it pass. The world becomes dark and all I can feel is the pain.
At least back in Spala I had mama, who rarely left my side. She held my hand and kissed my forehead and cheeks all the time to make the pain go away. I miss her, but I think she is here now, doing the same thing. Is she an angel? Did she come to comfort me or is she taking me away to heaven? I want to live, but I wouldn't mind going away with my father and mother into the loving arms of Christ either.
The pain doesn't pass. It seems the angel hasn't taken me away.
"God have mercy on me", I say. I don't know how long it has been.
I hear a gunshot and my heart skips a beat.
Wait, I can't move to escape! It hurts so much!
Now my sister is being tortured again. Her pain is my pain, but I can't move to help her. I see men with sinister smiles. The one with the bayonet. He is the one doing it now. It doesn't make sense.
They are killing Olga, they are ripping her apart. She is suffering. They are killing her. What they are doing is killing her and I can't move.
Now it is not Olga, but Anastasia, Tatiana, Maria… mama.
"Mama!" I scream. Many, many times. I hear another gunshot.
Now they are using the bayonet. No!
The bayonet! The bayonet! He is trying to stab me and I can't move! It will hurt! He is going to stab me! It will hurt!
It hurts! He is doing it and it hurts! It hurts! It hurts my leg!
I feel a hand on my forehead. I hear prayers. It is alright, God is with me. He is just testing me. Christ also suffered.
Then it gets cold, so cold. I have never been this cold. Wherever I am it is not comfortable. I am floating in the water. I am being bathed.
"I don't want a bath right now, I am way too cold!" I try to say so.
"You can't be guided by personal desires in a time such as this", Sergei replies to my protests. "As the Tsar you belong to Russia, not yourself."
The peasant woman screams for her grandson again. Misha was a saint. I am so sorry, they had no right to do that. God had different plans...
"Imagine how extreme their methods must be", Sergei keeps going.
No Sergei! Please! I want to go home to my mother!
It is not Olga being tortured. It is Russia. It is Anna. The gunshots. More gunshots. Poor Anna! Monsters!
The stab wounds hurt so much.
But my mother's head is destroyed. All that remains are her brains… no, not her brains…
"You are not going to heaven with your mother", the bandit with the dirty beard says as his brains fly out of his head. "You are going to hell for what you did, and so is your sister."
That is not true, that is not true, we asked for forgiveness, and Christ forgives all sins…
My sister is screaming in pain again. Maybe we are in hell already.
"Mercy! Mercy!" She is desperate. I am desperate. Why did they do that?
I am so sorry. I want to save you. I move, but I can´t move. I cannot do anything for you. I am sorry. I wish papa were here right now, papa could have saved you.
I hear more gunshots… Leonid! No, please! I will give him my clothes back, just don't kill him! Leonid!
Someone is carrying me. I am scared. I do not like this.
I have no control over anything. Who are you? Why are you carrying me? I do not know you! You are a monster and you killed my mother!
But I can't move.
"Let me go!" I scream. "Let me go! You killed my mother and all my friends!"
I am being held in the arms of a monster and I will fall into the abyss if he stops holding me with those same arms he used to kill everyone I love.
Mama would not have allowed them to carry me. She would not have allowed them to stitch me. She would have saved me.
Now I am back on a stretcher. I see the sky above me, the waxing gibbous moon, so beautiful… then there are red guards around me.
I scream. They are going to kill us!
"A thirteen-year-old boy and a woman", one of them says. "She was beaten recently".
Now they are arguing with their loud voices.
"Help!" I yell. "Help! They are going to kill us! They are going to kill us! They are going to cut me!"
The pain doesn't stop, it keeps going. Are they stabbing me with the bayonet already? It hurts more than I thought it would.
They are singing revolutionary songs to me. They are mocking me. I feel a pinch on my arm. They are going to cut me now. This time they will cut my entire ear. They are cutting both my ears. No, please, no, no, no…
"They are going to kill us!" I keep asking for help and no one comes. I need to get away, but everything fades into darkness before I can.
My mother is with me again. She is holding my hand and kissing my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, and my eyelids to ease the pain. I know I am not dead though, because I am in pain. Mama promised once I was dead it would not hurt anymore. But then again, maybe I am in hell.