The Russians Collection
Page 115
Sergei paused briefly. “But my pathway led me to despair and bitterness and guilt; he found something else at the end of his pilgrimage.”
“What . . . what did he find?” asked Anna with wide-eyed interest.
“Himself . . . that’s what he found,” answered Sergei. “And that was everything! It was clear to see, from one look into his eyes, that however similar we may have been when we embarked from our homelands two years before, we were now worlds apart. Robbie possessed something. And I knew instantly, as I said, the moment I gazed into the peacefulness of his eyes that I wanted it . . . that I needed what he had discovered. How he had got it, where it had come from, even what it was . . . I had no idea. I could just see that here was a man at peace within his own soul—at peace with himself, at peace with his surroundings, at peace with what it meant to be a man. I had to find out what it was. I had to know. I had to have it! And that is why, from the very beginning, I plied him with questions, I listened eagerly for everything he had to tell me, and I watched his every move, his every expression, his every glance. I got to know him probably far better than he even realized. I had to know what it was in his heart that made him different from any man I had ever known!”
“Did you find out?”
“I think so. No . . . I know so! What made Robbie different was that he had discovered the secret of what it means to truly be a man. Dmitri always measured his worth by his manly exploits. My father was stoic and rugged to the end. It was how men were, how they were supposed to be. But then I found myself face-to-face with Robbie Taggart—a man as brawny and rugged and fighting tough as any man in the tsar’s army—who spoke quiet words of gentleness, who told me of a change God had made inside him, and who told me he had discovered a deeper and more enduring manliness than he’d ever known on the high seas. I tell you, Anna, listening to him tell his story—the sailing adventures, the drama of fighting pirates and cutthroats, the love he left behind and the love he found, and what he discovered inside himself as a result of it all—was enough to change anyone. Had it not been for Robbie Taggart, you might never have seen me again. I’d have either died somewhere, or I’d have been nothing but a wreck of a man. As it is, for the first time in my life I feel whole and complete.”
“Then I do want to meet your Mr. Taggart. I must thank him personally for sending my husband back to me,” said Anna.
“I was sailing northward up the west coast of Africa,” Sergei went on, “after several months at sea. Suddenly everything Robbie had told me, and all my own past, became vividly real to me. For the first time I saw with such clarity who I really was—that I was not yet truly a man after the fashion of Robbie Taggart and the Man he had told me so much about. And in that moment I realized how desperately I wanted to be.
“I was alone on the deck. It was late. The sea was relatively smooth, and we were moving fairly well under a full sail. The moon was up, but the sky was half cloudy, and so its reflection was obscured over the surface of the water. All at once the years of bitterness toward my father, my own guilt over my failure, all my frustrations and anger—and, I suppose, a deep resentment toward God, too—it all crashed over me like a giant wave.
“Suddenly without realizing what I was doing, I found myself on my knees on that lonely deck, crying out to God as I never had before. God, I said, I don’t want to live like this anymore! Please take away the anger and bitterness and unforgiveness in my heart. I have not been the man I should have been—not to my family, my country . . . not even to myself. But I want to be, God. I want to be a MAN! I want to be whole, I want to be gentle and kind like Robbie Taggart. Give me a heart full of love, God, not the gall and rancor that has been inside me for so long. Forgive me, and put forgiveness inside me, too. I need . . . your help . . . I need you, God! Make me the man YOU want me to be!”
Sergei stopped. Anna had taken his hand as he spoke, and now gazed earnestly into his face, her eyes full of tears.
“I don’t even know how to put into words all that happened, all that I felt, all that I prayed,” Sergei went on. “I must have knelt there for twenty minutes, so much going through my heart and mind. I found myself releasing heavy weights I had carried for so long, just like cutting the chains off my ankles. But these were weights that had been tied to my heart. I found myself forgiving my father, forgiving Rustaveli, forgiving the guards who had beat me, and asking God to forgive me for my attitudes and words and actions against them. Mostly I had to accept God’s forgiveness for myself. Robbie had told me about it, but until that night on the ship it didn’t make sense to me. That night I realized it was the biggest weight of all, the heaviest chain around my heart.
“When I finally found that my mind was still, for the first time I realized I’d been weeping. My face was wet. I stood up slowly, and I felt almost as if I could see the chains falling off and splashing into the black ocean below the railing where I stood.
“I don’t know how to say it any other way, Anna, other than that I knew there had been a change. I felt more like a true man than ever before in my life, because I’d finally let go of all the prideful trappings that men all over the world—including myself—mistake for manhood. And I suppose for the first time, I felt ready to come home . . . and ready to face you, and look into your eyes . . . and tell you that finally I understand a little of what love really means.”
Anna squeezed her husband’s hand.
“I do love you, Anna,” he said. “I loved you before, but now it means so much more than it could have then.”
“Oh, Sergei,” she replied, “you cannot know how happy it makes my heart for you to be at peace. I knew the moment I saw you that much of your past ache had dropped away. I could see that you were lighter and more free. I love you so much!”
She slipped her arm through his and they walked on in silence. Now that Sergei’s story was complete, they could truly begin the rest of their life together.
Gently she laid her head against his shoulder as they made their way along the path. Their waiting for this day had been long, and not without its sorrow. But now that it had come at last, the years vanished; and all of life became a glorious eternal moment of quiet, contented joy.
They had each other. Their hearts were joined as one. And for this blissful present, all was well.
Epilogue
Sergei had not been able to locate Dmitri during his time in St. Petersburg, nor in the months following his return with Anna to Katyk did he gain any trace of him. Keeping himself in the background, with Misha’s help he had discovered from his regimental commander that Dmitri had requested, and received, a leave of absence from his duties and, it was presumed, had been away from the city for some time.
For the present, therefore, it appeared that the young princess of the House of Remizov would continue in the care of her mother’s brother and maid.
Anna and Sergei prayed daily for her brother Paul in Siberia, but it would be many years before they heard even a tiny shred of information about him.
The bond and love between Anna and Princess Katrina Viktorovich Fedorcenko Remizov lived on, as Anna poured her heart’s devotion into the growing young girl. Mariana possessed the strengths and personality characteristics of both young women who had cared for each other with such an uncommon love. Sergei often paused when watching the young face, then chuckling to himself and making comments about seeing both Anna and Katrina so visibly alive in his little niece. In the growing child the personalities of Anna, peasant maid, and Katrina, noble princess, fused and balanced into one.
As the little girl passed her first year and began to walk and talk and scamper about, there persisted in the community a sense of wonder concerning her origins. Speculations were subdued, though plentiful. No one doubted Anna’s character, and Yevno and Sophia were held in sufficient regard that no one believed the unthinkable, that the baby had really been Anna’s.
People talked—about the child, about Anna and her new husband, and the grandfather, who was su
spected of knowing more than he told. Yevno had always been thought of as a somewhat odd and unusual man in things spiritual, and it was not unlikely that this tendency would carry into his eldest born. There were mysterious roots in the whole thing, that much was certain.
The rumors, as they reached their final stages, usually involved Anna’s marrying a man of great importance, but whose cloudy past had toppled him from high rank. Some said he was a Cossack from the south who had fought in the tsar’s wars and had even saved the grand duke’s life. Others continued to insist that, whatever the mystery, the man was a peasant just like themselves, who had migrated north from the Ukraine. As to the child, well, the wild nature of Cossacks was well documented.
But most of the rumors were eventually dismissed, and Anna’s new husband was said to have been a peasant and farmer all along. His regal bearing indicated otherwise, but the way he worked the fields alongside old Yevno said to any observer that he had been doing it all his life. And the rumors were quieted once and for all when he purchased a small plot and peasant cottage five versts southwest of Katyk on which to raise his small family. For a nobleman to do such a thing was unheard of, even in legend.
The child remained an enigma. Some of the old wives claimed that the Cossack—a good and compassionate man—had come across her abandoned somewhere in his travels and had brought her home to his betrothed.
The rumor that she was actually a princess was one of the more persistent and lingering threads of speculation. And, though most said there was not a word of truth to it, country peasants in Russia were always fond of turning whatever they could into a fairy tale.
About the Authors
Michael Phillips is a bestselling author with more than seventy of his own titles. In addition, he has served as editor/redactor of nearly thirty more books. He is known as the man responsible for the reawakened interest in George MacDonald of the last thirty years. In addition to the MacDonald titles adapted/edited for today’s reader, his publishing efforts in bringing back full-length quality facsimile editions also spawned renewed interest in MacDonald’s original work. Michael and his wife, Judy, spend time each year in Scotland, but make their home near Sacramento, California. Visit Michael’s website at www.macdonaldphillips.com.
Judith Pella is a bestselling, award-winning author whose writing career spans more than two decades. Her in-depth historical and geographical research combines with her skillful storytelling to provide readers with dramatic, thought-provoking novels. She and her husband make their home in Scapoose, Oregon.
Fiction by Michael Phillips
www.macdonaldphillips.com
THE RUSSIANS*
The Crown and the Crucible • A House Divided • Travail and Triumph
THE STONEWYCKE TRILOGY*
The Heather Hills of Stonewycke • Flight from Stonewycke • Lady of Stonewycke
THE STONEWYCKE LEGACY*
Stranger at Stonewycke • Shadows Over Stonewycke • Treasure of Stonewycke
THE SECRETS OF HEATHERSLEIGH HALL
Wild Grows the Heather in Devon • Wayward Winds
Heathersleigh Homecoming • A New Dawn Over Devon
SHENANDOAH SISTERS
Angels Watching Over Me • A Day to Pick Your Own Cotton
The Color of Your Skin Ain’t the Color of Your Heart • Together Is All We Need
CAROLINA COUSINS
A Perilous Proposal • The Soldier’s Lady
Never Too Late • Miss Katie’s Rosewood
CALEDONIA
Legend of the Celtic Stone • An Ancient Strife
THE HIGHLAND COLLECTION*
Jamie MacLeod: Highland Lass • Robbie Taggart: Highland Sailor
THE JOURNALS OF CORRIE BELLE HOLLISTER
My Father’s World* • Daughter of Grace* • On the Trail of the Truth*
A Place in the Sun* • Sea to Shining Sea • Into the Long Dark Night
Land of the Brave and the Free • A Home for the Heart
*with Judith Pella
Books by Judith Pella
Texas Angel
Heaven’s Road
Beloved Stranger
Mark of the Cross
THE RUSSIANS
The Crown and the Crucible*
A House Divided*
Travail and Triumph*
Heirs of the Motherland
Dawning of Deliverance
White Nights, Red Morning
Passage Into Light
THE STONEWYCKE TRILOGY*
The Heather Hills of Stonewycke
Flight from Stonewycke
Lady of Stonewycke
THE STONEWYCKE LEGACY*
Stranger at Stonewycke
Shadows Over Stonewycke
Treasure of Stonewycke
DAUGHTERS OF FORTUNE
Written on the Wind
Somewhere a Song
Toward the Sunrise
Homeward My Heart
LONE STAR LEGACY
Frontier Lady
Stoner’s Crossing
Warrior’s Song
PATCHWORK CIRCLE
Bachelor’s Puzzle
Sister’s Choice
RIBBONS OF STEEL**
Distant Dreams
A Hope Beyond
A Promise for Tomorrow
RIBBONS WEST**
Westward the Dream
Separate Roads
Ties That Bind
*with Michael Phillips **with Tracie Peterson
© 1993 by Judith Pella
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2015
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
ISBN 978-1-4412-2977-9
This book is a work of fiction. With the exception of historical personages, all characters are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to living persons, past or present, is coincidental.
Cover design by Melinda Schumacher
Judith Pella is represented by The Steve Laube Agency.
To
My Husband, Paul
“Love . . . always protects, always trusts, always hopes,
always perseveres. Love never fails.”
1 Corinthians 13:7, 8 NIV
Thank you for believing I could do it,
even when I wasn’t so sure;
and for being there with wise counsel.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
A Cast of Characters
Prologue: The Golden Cockerel
1
2
Part I: Ascension
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
Part II: The Exile
9
10
Part III: Katyk
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
Part IV: A World Away
18
19
20
21
22
Part V: Many Changes
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
Part VI: The Reporter and the Revolutionary
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
Part VII: Katrina’s Daughter
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
Part VIII: Back to St. Petersburg
55
56
57
58
59
Part IX: Honor Thy Father
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
Part X: Partings
67
68
69
70
71
72
About the Author
Books by Judith Pella
A Cast of Characters
(IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE)
Count Cyril Vlasenko—Fedorcenko relative; Under-Minister of Interior (also called Ministry of Internal Affairs)
Sarah Remington—Fedorcenko housekeeper
Prince Viktor Mikhailovich Fedorcenko—head of Fedorcenko clan
Nicholas Alexandrovich Romanov II (Nicky)—tsar of Russia
Alexandra Fedorovna Romanov (Alix or Sunny)—tsaritsa of Russia
Anna Yevnovna Fedorcenko (Christinin)—wife of Sergei
Sergei Viktorovich Fedorcenko (Christinin)—husband of Anna
Captain Mikhail Igorovich Grigorov (Misha)—friend of Anna and Sergei
Paul Yevnovich Burenin (Pavlikov)—son of Yevno
Gennadii Nickolavich Andropov—father of Mathilde
Mathilde Gennadievna Burenin—wife of Paul
Vera—sibling of Anna and Paul
Ivan—husband of Vera
Tanya—sibling of Anna and Paul
Ilya—sibling of Anna and Paul
Marfa—wife of Ilya
Sophia Ilyanovna Burenin—wife of Yevno; mother of Anna and Paul
Yevno Pavlovich Burenin—husband of Sophia; father of Anna and Paul