‘Dubaclov and Vorontsov! They are back early. Thank God!’ Dagmar ran into the porch, and the doors were opened for her. ‘Constantine!’ she shouted. ‘Thank heavens you have come back!’
‘Not Constantine, Princess,’ Charles Cromb said. ‘Nemesis.’
*
Dagmar peered into the darkness, for a moment not recognising the voice. Then memory returned to her, and she uttered one of her shrieks before turning and running back into the house. ‘The police!’ she shouted. ‘Where are the police? Bring your guns!’
The policemen came hurrying out, but Charles and his companions had already dismounted and were in the porch. The policemen, armed only with revolvers, faced four rifles. ‘Shoot them down!’ Dagmar screamed, from the stairs.
‘Drop your guns, or you are dead men,’ Charles said.
The policemen unbuckled their gunbelts. ‘You are cowards!’ Dagmar shouted. ‘You have betrayed me. Be sure Colonel Vorontsov will know of this. Igor, summon the servants...’ She began to pant, because just about all the servants were already assembled, and none of them was moving to her support.
‘Igor,’ Charles said. ‘The body of Madame Cromb is outside. Will you have your people bring it in, please?’
Igor hesitated only long enough to work out to whom he was referring, then gave the instructions. Dagmar came slowly back down the steps. ‘Alexandra? She is dead?’
‘Shot by one of your goons, Princess. Now, where is Anna?’ Dagmar tossed her head. ‘Well,’ Charles said. ‘I can figure it out for myself.’
He watched Alexandra’s body being brought in, her face so pure and beautiful in death. ‘Have you no tears for your wife?’ Dagmar sneered.
‘Have you no tears for your sister, Princess?’
Dagmar glared at him, then looked at David Fine, who was unashamedly weeping. ‘You have brought that thing back here?’
‘Careful, Princess. I’ve told him he can have a go at you, if he wants.’
Dagmar took a step backwards. ‘You would not dare.’
‘Sure I would. Trouble is, he doesn’t even want to touch you.’
Charles faced Igor. ‘Igor, old friend, I don’t want to cause any trouble. I came here for the two countesses. Seems I can’t take Alix anywhere. But I sure mean to take Anna. Now, you just don’t interfere, and nobody’s gonna get hurt. Start something, and you’re gonna have a lot of burying to do when I leave. Savvy?’
Igor looked at Anatole, and received a quick nod. ‘You, I am going to boil in oil,’ Dagmar told Anatole.
‘You’ll have to do a bit of travelling first,’ Charles said. ‘Well, Igor.’
‘We will not try to stop you, Your Excellency,’ Igor said. ‘But I must warn you that Monsieur Smyslov and Father Alexei are on their way here now.’
‘Thanks. Silas, you and Anatole stay here and arrest them as they come in. David, you may not like to touch the Princess, but I’m putting you in charge of her. Go stand behind her, put your gun muzzle in the small of her back, and if anyone, anyone at all, makes a move you don’t like, blow her in two. Right?’
David thrust the gun at her. ‘Do as the Captain says, Your Highness. Because I will willingly do as he says.’ Her body jerked, and her face twisted, but she made no sound.
Charles ran up the stairs and along the gallery. The key was in Anna’s lock, and he turned it and threw the door inwards. She was naked and there were bruises on her body, and her hair, far from being in a neat chignon, was a tangled mass on her shoulders. ‘Charles?’ she whispered.
‘Oh, my dearest girl!’ He took her in his arms. ‘There is no need to speak.’
‘Do you know anything?’
‘I know everything, my darling.’
She pulled her head back to gaze at him. ‘But, Alix...’
‘Alix is dead. Shot by one of Dagmar’s policemen.’
‘Alix? Oh, poor darling Alix! But Charles...’
‘I hope you will forgive me for uttering a prayer of thanks that it wasn’t you.’
‘You came for me?’
‘I came for you both. But I will take you, certainly. If you will come.’
She looked up at him. ‘You have heard about Colin?’
‘Some.’
‘We cannot desert him, Charles. I cannot desert him.’
‘Come with me, and once you are safe, I will do all I can to help him. You have my word.’
Slowly she freed herself. ‘And your reward?’
‘I’m not looking for a reward.’ He forced a grin. ‘You’re family now. By helping Colin, I’ll be helping Jennie. If she can still be helped. If not, well...there is nothing for me here, save you.’
Anna sat down. ‘What about the children? We cannot leave them here, to Dagmar.’
‘Okay. We’ll take them with us. The two boys, anyway.’
‘To America?’
‘They’ll like America,’ Charles said. ‘So will you.’
She shot him a glance. ‘Where is Dagmar?’
‘Downstairs.’
‘I wish to kill her. And Dubaclov!’
‘Yeah. Well, you might have to join the queue. Listen.’ He knelt beside her. ‘I know what she has done to you. I know how much you must hate her. But you’d hate yourself more, in the end, if you killed your own sister. As for what happened, I don’t give a damn, save for what you suffered. I only want to see you yourself again, to see you smile.’ He squeezed her hand.
She gave him another glance. Then she said, ‘I must get dressed.’
He nodded. ‘Warmly. And pack a satchel of clothes for changes. We’re gonna have to travel pretty far, pretty fast, to be safe. No time for shopping, eh?’ He squeezed her hand again, then put his arm round her shoulders to hug her as she stood up.
She gave a faint smile. ‘The tables are turned, are they not? You are in command, now.’
‘I wish I were just a little more in command. Now hurry.’ He stepped outside, closing the door behind him, and saw Silas coming up the stairs.
‘Sorry to interrupt you, skipper. But there’s a lot of people coming up the drive.’
‘People? From the town, you mean?’
‘These are mounted.’
Charles ran along the gallery to the corridor leading to the balcony above the porch, and saw the Cossacks riding into the front yard of the palace, together with the police. ‘Holy shit!’ he muttered.
‘What about the priest and Smyslov?’
‘They never showed up. I guess they’re with that lot.’
‘Right. The doors must be closed and bolted. And the shutters.’
‘We did that,’ Silas said. ‘But say, there’s about fifty of them, and they have carbines.’
‘And there are only five of us. But maybe we can raise a few more. And we have shelter.’ He ran down the stairs.
‘Well,’ Dagmar remarked. ‘Now you are going to hang.’ She looked around her at the servants. ‘All of you.’
‘You heard the lady,’ Charles said. ‘But the Countess Anna is in charge again now. She’ll be down in a moment. Who’d you guys rather fight for?’
Dagmar snorted. ‘That isn’t going to work, Captain Cromb. My prerogatives were restored by order of the Tsar. My people know that. To disobey me means to disobey the Tsar. They all know the consequences of that.’
Charles looked over the faces in front of him, saw the indecision there. They would fight for him, or at least for Anna, if they could. But they were too afraid. He sighed. ‘Okay. Everyone into the cellars. Everyone. Take the wounded man with you.’
They hurried to obey, happy to be relieved of all responsibility. There came a bang on the door. ‘What’s happening in there? It is I, Dubaclov. Open up.’
Anatole and Yevrentko, standing by the door, looked at Charles. ‘Constantine!’ Dagmar shouted. ‘They have me a prisoner. Storm the place!’
‘You do that, Colonel, and the Princess dies,’ Charles called.
‘By God, but who is that?’ Dubaclov cried.
&n
bsp; ‘We’ve never met,’ Charles said. ‘But Vorontsov knows me. I am Captain Charles Cromb, and I am the husband of the Countess Alexandra. Now clear off, and take your men with you.’
They listened to a muffled conversation outside. ‘Do you think you can get away with this?’ Dagmar demanded.
‘I reckon it’s worth a try. Come on, you guys, down you go.’ He herded the staff to the cellar stairs, watched them go down, and frowned; there was no sign of Igor. If that little bastard was up to his tricks...
‘You know there is no hope for you, Cromb,’ Vorontsov called. Tay down your arms, free the Princess, and I will have you deported. Fail to do so and you will be hanged.’
Charles looked up the stairs, at the head of which Anna was standing. She had dressed herself very carefully, wore a heavy fur over her habit, and had even managed to control her hair, which she had tucked out of sight beneath her fur hat. ‘Ha!’ Dagmar remarked. ‘Where do you suppose you are going?’
‘Seems we have a choice, Your Excellency, between fighting or surrendering,’ Charles explained.
‘I will not surrender again,’ Anna said. ‘Even if I am hanged beside Colin.’
‘Right.’ Charles looked around him. ‘David, I am going to need every man. Help the Countess Anna secure the Princess.’
‘Where?’ Anna asked.
‘To the banisters. We want to keep her in the centre of things. Now, Silas, will you take the window beside the door.’
‘Aye-aye, skipper.’
‘Yevrentko, the right hand drawing room.’
Yevrentko, face pale but determined, nodded.
‘Anatole, are all the doors at the back secured? Check them out, and then take up a position there. Where is Igor, by the way?’
‘I do not know, Your Excellency.’
‘Well, make sure he’s up to no treachery.’ He stood above Dagmar. David had made her sit on the floor and bound her wrists behind her and to the lowest upright of the staircase.
‘You are mad,’ Dagmar said. ‘Do you really suppose you can hold this house against fifty professional soldiers?’
‘We’ll have a go. Upstairs, David. You and I are going to pick them off.’
‘I can shoot,’ Anna said.
‘I know.’ He gave her a revolver. ‘But I want you here, with her.’
Anna looked at her sister. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said. ‘If they break in, she will be the first to go.’
‘What is happening?’ Olga had appeared, wearing a nightgown, her hair in plaits.
‘Where are the children?’ Charles asked.
‘They are in bed. But...’
‘Go and stay with them. No matter what you hear, stay with them.’
Olga looked at Anna, and then at Dagmar. ‘Do as he says,’ both sisters said together. Whatever their personal differences, neither wished to have the children in the middle of a gun battle.
Olga hurried off. Charles ran up the stairs behind her, David at his heels. As they reached the gallery, Dubaclov called out. ‘You have had time enough, Monsieur Cromb. If you do not surrender, now, my men will storm the house. Should anything happen to the Princess, everyone inside will hang.’
Charles went to the windows overlooking the porch, waved David to one side, and checked the priming on his rifle. It was now past midnight, and the night was utterly dark. Yet the horsemen were still grouped on the drive, the two colonels having obviously not yet made up their minds how best to carry out their attack. Beyond the drive and the trees he thought he could see lights. Those had to be in the town, which would have been awakened by the return of the Cossacks. Although...as he remembered it, the town was further off than that. It really was a quite desperate situation, he knew. Especially if Dubaclov used all his assets. As he was now doing, for there came the clip-clop of hooves, and straining his eyes in the darkness Charles could see a group of about a dozen horsemen making their way round to the rear of the building. ‘If they attack from the back as well as the front...’ David muttered.
‘We could well be overrun. You’d better get down there and help Anatole.’
David stood up, and hesitated. ‘Are we going to die, Mr Cromb?’
‘Seems a possibility,’ Charles agreed. ‘But we should take a few with us.’
‘This is your last chance, Mr Cromb,’ Dubaclov called...and was arrested by the sound of more hooves.
‘Who is that?’ Vorontsov shouted in Russian. ‘Stop those men.’
They were clearly not Cossacks. ‘Open fire!’ Charles shouted, and squeezed his trigger. There was a scream and the man fell from his saddle. From the lower floor there came three shots, and another man fell. The Cossacks were looking both ways, while the hoof-beats grew louder, and now three horsemen burst through them, firing fowling pieces loaded with scatter-shot as they did so. Horses neighed and reared, men fell, and there was general pandemonium. ‘Silas!’ Charles bellowed. ‘Let those fellows in.’
The front doors crashed open as the men hurled themselves from their saddles, and then crashed shut again as they entered. But by now the Cossacks had recovered sufficiently to return fire, and Charles, running back to the gallery, saw that one of the new arrivals was on his hands and knees, blood running down his legs on to the parquet. Anna was already at his side, while Charles recognised another of the men. ‘Dr Fine!’ he shouted. ‘By all that is holy, but it is good to see you. How many men do you muster?’
‘What you see, Mr Cromb. Those devils,’ Fine panted. ‘They have destroyed my people.’
‘Arm yourself,’ Charles told him. ‘And you, sir.’
‘Shem Cohen, Your Excellency. They killed my wife.’
Charles nodded. ‘We’ll avenge her.’ He looked at the man on the floor, who had now fallen flat. Rolled over by Anna, careless of the blood staining her fur coat, he could be seen to be dead.
‘Abner Stein,’ Fine said. ‘Your Excellency...’ Then he looked up, as David ran into the hall. ‘Father!’ Father and son embraced.
Charles looked at Dagmar. ‘You sent the Cossacks against that village?’
‘I was empowered to do so by the Tsar!’
‘May the Lord have mercy, both on you and your Tsar.’
‘That woman?’ Cohen asked, and stood above her, hands opening and shutting.
He was distracted by a fusillade of shots. ‘Quick, douse all the candles,’ Charles commanded. ‘Dr Fine, you and your son join Anatole at the rear.’ He himself went to the front windows to be with Silas and Yevrentko. Bullets were splattering against the walls, some getting through the windows to shatter the glass, but he understood that Dubaclov, as a professional soldier, would know better than to imagine he could gain a victory by shooting. And as he took up his position, he saw the Cossacks again surging forward.
‘Fire!’ he shouted, and the four rifles exploded together. Two men fell, but some thirty threw themselves from their saddles and came running up the steps, sabres drawn. There was no time to reload, but Yevrentko, Silas and Charles each had a revolver, and these they fired into the mass of men hurling themselves at the door. To do this, however, they had to throw up the shattered windows, and now they themselves came under fire, and Silas fell with a shout of agony, while bullets whined into the hall. ‘Lie down!’ Charles bawled at Anna, and she dropped to her knees, while Dagmar began to scream very loudly as lead whistled past her and thudded into the stairs.
But the concentrated fire had its effect, and the Cossacks tumbled back down the steps, now leaving seven of their number lying on the verandah. ‘They’ll be back,’ Charles panted. ‘Reload.’ He knelt beside Silas. ‘How bad, buddy?’
‘God, I dunno,’ Silas grunted. ‘But I can still breathe, eh! Gimme back my gun.’
Charles reached for it, and was alerted by a sudden light coming out of the pantry. He reared back on his heels, desperately pushing bullets into the chambers of his revolver, and saw Mordecai Fine and David, together with Anatole, being forced into the hall by Vorontsov and his policemen, who carrie
d candles as well as guns. ‘Drop your weapons, Mr Cromb, or these men die, and you with them,’ Vorontsov said.
‘I am sorry, Mr Cromb,’ Fine said. ‘They were too many for us. But we are prepared to die.’
Charles bit his lip. But there were too many policemen. He would die, and so would Anna. He looked left and right. Yevrentko was trembling; he had never supposed they would succeed. Cohen was silent, his face closed, like that of a statue. Only his eyes gleamed hate. But he too knew that they had lost. ‘Charles!’ Anna said.
He did not know if she was commanding him or imploring him. But the revolver was drooping from her own fingers. Then it came up again, and she turned to her sister, fiercely. ‘No!’ Charles shouted. She hesitated, and Vorontsov ran forward and wrenched the gun from her hand. ‘Not your own sister,’ Charles said.
‘You do not know!’ Anna said. Her knees gave way, and she sat on the step.
‘Vorontsov!’ Dagmar shouted. ‘Cut me free. And have those doors opened.’
Vorontsov signalled one of his men to open the front doors, and himself released the Princess. She stood up, seeming to ripple from head to toe, as Dubaclov stamped into the hall. ‘Four of my men are dead,’ he snapped. ‘And five more are wounded, two seriously. These dogs...’
‘Do not fear, Constantine, you shall have the hanging of them,’ Dagmar said. ‘Line them up. Her too. How lovingly he holds her,’ she sneered. ‘But you saw, Vorontsov! She was armed with a pistol. That is open rebellion against me, the Princess Bolugayevska, and thus against the Tsar in whose name I exercise my authority. Do you not agree?’
‘I would say that you are absolutely correct, Princess,’ Vorontsov said.
‘Well, then, much as I regret having to condemn my own flesh and blood, she shall hang beside these other criminals. Dubaclov, bring your dead and wounded inside. The wounded must be tended to. The dead will have to be buried in the morning. Now...what is that dreadful noise?’
All their heads turned to look out of the front doors, through which the Cossacks were bringing their stricken comrades.
‘There are a great many people coming up the drive, Your Excellency,’ said the Cossack sergeant. ‘From the town, I think.’
The Seeds of Power Page 31