Anastasia's Secret

by Susanne Dunlap

  A few short minutes later, the guard returned with two more soldiers, again men I had not previously seen. I began to understand that the palace swarmed with them.

  “You are to come with us.”

  “To see the tsaritsa?” Anya asked, her voice shaking with fear and emotion.

  They did not answer. I started to follow.

  “Not you. Just her.”

  “But her bag! She cannot manage it alone.”

  “I’ll take it,” said the youngest of the guards, and as I handed it to him I saw one of the others give him a black look.

  I watched Anya hobble off, trying to keep up with her captors, barely able to support herself after her illness. But the most horrifying moment of all was when one of the other guards took Anya’s case out of the young soldier’s hands and left it sitting in the corridor. So, I thought, they’re saying she will not need any personal effects at all. She was really going to prison.

  I have no idea how Anya and Mama said their good-byes, especially in front of those cold and angry men. All I knew then was that this act of taking a few people away to prisons of which we knew only horrible tales materially changed our entire mood. It was not lightened when we discovered that Lili Dehn was arrested as well, although we heard later that they only kept her for twenty-four hours. Anya, though, was locked up for months in the Peter and Paul Fortress, an ancient, airless prison on an island in the Neva. I could not imagine what she must have suffered.

  In all the distress and commotion, I didn’t have a chance to look at the note Sasha had left for me until just before I went to bed. I was in my room alone, since Mashka was still being nursed in the sickroom. I hardly dared to open the scrap of paper, afraid that it would tell me that we would no longer be able to see each other, even in secret. I took a deep breath and steeled myself for yet more disheartening news.

  I had to follow the men and join the Provisional Government’s forces. It was the only safe thing, the only way I have a chance of being able to save you. Meet me in the cellar just after dawn tomorrow if you can, by the back stair that leads to the kitchen.

  That’s all it said. So at least I knew Sasha wasn’t completely against us. But I had no idea what he could possibly do to help us—”to save you,” he said. Did he mean just me, or my whole family? Did we need saving? Were things really so dire? And in any case, how would Sasha be able to make any difference? We were watched constantly if we weren’t in our private apartments, and sometimes even then. I didn’t hold out much hope that a meeting near the kitchen would go undetected.

  I hardly closed my eyes that night, even though I hadn’t completely recovered my strength yet. I didn’t want to sleep too long and miss what might be my only opportunity to find out what had happened with Sasha, and whether he knew something that could make sense of what was happening.

  As soon as I saw the faintest lightening of the sky, I slipped out from between the covers and put on a dark skirt and sweater, opened my door as noiselessly as I could, and crept down to the stairs that led to kitchens. Our movements within the palace were not technically restricted. It was only that there were few rooms where we weren’t likely to be disturbed by soldiers who considered themselves to have more right to our home than we had. If someone discovered me, I might claim to be going in search of a glass of milk.

  It was still dark. No one had turned on the lights yet. In earlier times, there would already be a bustle of activity as the kitchens prepared the breakfast for the suite and any guests who were staying. But now we generally had only bread and tea in the morning, the cooks not being allowed to fire up the ovens before noon.

  At first I saw no one. It hadn’t occurred to me that Sasha would not be there, that something might have prevented him from keeping his appointment with me. But just as I was about to give up and return to my room, he emerged from the shadows.

  I didn’t know what to say to him at first, how to greet him. What if he had actually turned against us and this meeting was a trick? He had mentioned the Bolsheviks the last time we met. Could he have joined them? I resisted the impulse to run to him and embrace him as I would have done in earlier times. Our last meeting had been strange and awkward compared to when we were younger.

  “Nastya! What’s wrong? It’s me!” Sasha spoke quietly but urgently, and walked right up to me and pulled me to him. His uniform didn’t have the fresh smell it always used to, even when I had gone to see him in his camp. I could see it was dirty, quite frayed at the sleeves. But I buried my face in his shoulder anyhow, and did something so unlike me. I started to cry. “Oh, now this isn’t the little grand duchess I used to know.” Sasha reached into his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at my face with it.

  “I know, I’m sorry,” I said. I took his hankie and blew my nose in it.

  “Besides, we don’t have much time. I have to go on guard duty soon.”

  “You mean you’re staying here?” I could hardly believe it.

  “I managed to get the posting. You mustn’t think I’ve turned against you. It was either this or go to prison myself. I figured I might be able to help if I at least appeared to be on their side.” I was no longer wrapped in Sasha’s arms, but he still held on to my hand as if he didn’t want to let go of it.

  “How can you help? We’re entirely in their power here. Mama and Papa have said they might be willing to go away, possibly to England, which they both love. But nothing’s been settled. And I won’t go without them.”

  “You have more friends than you realize. It’s just dangerous for them to be very public about it. You will all eventually have to be moved, and with your help, something might be arranged.”

  “With my help? Why mine?”

  “Because no one will be expecting you, the youngest girl, to do anything. They are not watching you as they are your parents or your brother.”

  “I still don’t see how it will be possible.” I struggled to tamp down the surge of hope I felt just then, that our situation truly was temporary, as Mama tried to convince us when her spirits were not too depressed. “Might they take Papa back as tsar?”

  “He would have to be a very different sort of tsar.”

  I realized when Sasha said it that I had no concept of what sort of a tsar Papa was. He met ministers, made decisions, appeared at public ceremonies. But when he was with us, he was just Papa. He did not speak of politics unless something directly affected us—which hadn’t been often until recently. We got most of our news through the maids of honor or the servants. And now, with no one friendly coming or going, we had little idea of what was actually happening in the outside world.

  “Tell me what you need me to do.”

  “Trust me, first of all. And try not to draw attention to yourself just for now.”

  “Do you have a plan? Truly?” Before the war and the revolution, it would never have occurred to me to question Sasha’s loyalty or judgment. But now I didn’t know what to think. I would have said the servants were fond of us as well, yet most of them vanished at the first sign of trouble. Even one of Alexei’s faithful attendants, the sailor Derevenko—a servant who shared a name with Alexei’s doctor, but nothing else—took pleasure now in ordering him about and abusing him verbally. Fortunately, Nagorny was still there to protect him.

  “It’s too early to say for certain. But do you remember the way we got out of the park that morning, a few years ago?”

  “I think so, but I never went through that gate again.”

  “I can’t look for it. I need you to see if it is there and unlocked.” He bent down a little, so that his face was level with mine. “If you think you have the courage, you could steal out at night sometime and try to find it. Do you think you could do that?”

  I could tell he was serious, that he wasn’t lying to me. Even in his different role, I felt I could trust him. Yet how could I get out at night? They locked the doors tight. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if I could leave the palace. But, Sasha, really, why do
we have to think of running away? Count Benckendorff says the Duma may let us live as private citizens. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Just to be able to come and go like other people?”

  I searched Sasha’s face for something, some response. Although he seemed the same as ever in many ways, even to the persistence of a few freckles on his nose that made him appear much younger than his twenty years, something was different. Perhaps it was not being able to look into both his eyes that gave me some misgivings. I knew, although I had never seen it, that the patch hid a horrible scar where his left eye had been. Yet I had the sense that he could see differently now, that he might be hiding some dark secret too terrible to reveal to me. His visible expression was trustworthy. But what about the one that was hidden?

  The sound of a door opening in another part of the cellar made me jump.

  “The guards come and go through the cellar. Come with me.” He led me down a twisting corridor to the far end of one wing of the house, the one, I guessed, with my grandmother’s empty rooms above it. He pointed to a low door at the end of the hallway. “That door is not often used. They won’t notice if I leave it unlocked,” Sasha whispered. “What do you say? Your futures may depend on it.”

  “I’ll try,” I whispered. He kissed me quickly on both cheeks, more like a brother than like the man whose kiss a year ago had left me breathless, then ushered me quickly back to the stairs that led up to our wing. I couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed as I skittered noiselessly back to my room.

  I was preoccupied all day with what Sasha had said. How was I to leave my bed in the middle of the night without anyone noticing? I was not even allowed out for exercise yet because I was still convalescing.

  I assumed Sasha was assigned duty in the grounds outside of the palace, because I did not see him for the remainder of that day, which passed more quietly, if also more sadly, after the terrible events of the day before. We ate our meals and said our prayers, Alexei had his lessons with Zhilik, and after dinner we played a six-handed game of bezique, while Tatiana read aloud. Dr. Botkin came to report that Mashka was getting much better, but that it might be necessary to shave her head because of a skin disorder that had developed as a complication.

  “Poor Marie!” said Mama.

  “She’ll look just like an egg, but without all the jewels!” Alyosha said, referring to the beautiful eggs M. Fabergé made for Mama at the holidays.

  Tatiana and I looked at each other, and I think in that moment we both had the same idea. But we didn’t say anything about it then. Like so many things in those early days of captivity, we all had a feeling that the bad events would come to an end and the world would somehow right itself.

  I went to bed, realizing that possibly in a few short days I would no longer have my room to myself. I was glad—Mashka and I had shared a room all my life, and I missed her being there—but if I was to see if I could get out of the palace and find that hidden gate, I would have to do it soon.

  Despite my wish to get my task over with as quickly as possible, my early morning and disturbed night’s sleep made me so tired that I could hardly keep my eyes open. I lay awake as long as I could, mentally going over the plan of the gardens: the ponds, still frozen but not safe enough to walk on; the route past the great Catherine palace, which I assumed was still partly a hospital caring for wounded soldiers; the ways out of the park and into the town, all with locked gates no doubt guarded by a soldier with a rifle. We had gone in the direction of Alexandrovsky Village. I remembered that at least. But it had been summer, and now it was barely spring. Would I recognize the place, and at night too?

  CHAPTER 17

  The next few nights proved equally impossible. Mama hardly slept, although she was always tired, and sometimes our games of bezique would go on until past midnight. I did take care to look out of the windows, though, and try to see how the guard was set. I noticed that it was changed at around eleven at night, and during the day at seven in the morning and three in the afternoon. That meant that the guard probably changed at around three in the morning too, because I noticed that the same guards I saw at night were not on duty when I looked out before seven. So I would have to do my exploring between eleven at night and three in the morning.

  Planning for my nocturnal expedition took my mind off the annoying reality of life. Each day, some new privation or restriction was imposed upon us. First our running water was cut off, then our electricity. We did everything by candlelight in the evening, and had to have water brought in from the ponds and heated in the kitchens to wash. We dared not complain. The investigation into Mama’s supposed criminal activities was still going on in Petrograd, and we were all afraid that if we did not cooperate and keep ourselves quietly out of the way, she or one of the others would be hauled off to prison, perhaps to the same horrid place Anya had been taken to.

  Where our evenings after supper used to be spent only with the family, the lack of comfort and the uncertain circumstances made Mama open the gathering to everyone who remained: all the remaining maids of honor, Prince, Dolgorukov, Count Benckendorff, General Tatischev, Colonel Grooten, Zhilik, and Trina. We sat in the flickering candlelight, some trying to read, others sewing, and always a game of bezique.

  One night, I was simply too restless to sit at the table and play cards. It may have been the dancing shadows cast by the candles that made the room seem to shift and breathe around us. Whatever it was, I went instead to the piano and read through some waltzes quietly, letting Tatiana take a turn at the card game. She didn’t like it very much because she always lost, but I knew Mama wanted her to play. She seemed to crave the company of my older sister. They were very alike in both looks and temperament. Tatiana always knew what Mama wanted, as if they were connected in some way no one else could see.

  I paused to look for another volume of music—something light and cheerful, like Mendelssohn or Schubert—when Papa spoke.

  “So, Marie will be able to leave the sickroom tomorrow, now that her skin is healing.”

  “I’m so glad!” I said. But at the same time I was also troubled. I would have my beloved sister back with me, yet I had not succeeded at all in locating the gate. If I did not do it tonight, I might never be able to.

  Fortunately, our evening broke up early for a change. Mama won the game decidedly—which she was always determined to do—and Papa declared that they would retire at eleven o’clock, after drinking a cup of tea.

  I waited in my room until all the little sounds of floors creaking and doors closing had died down. With no running water flowing to the sinks in the bathrooms, we all brushed our teeth and sponged ourselves down in our rooms using a basin and pitcher, and so the process of getting to bed was considerably shorter than it had once been. It was not long before I was confident that, troubled dreams or not, everyone else in the palace was asleep.

  I had taken care to undress just in case Trina came in to say good night, and so when I rose I first had to put on my darkest clothing and quietest shoes. The weather had turned warm, melting most of the snow, but also transforming the grounds into a sea of mud that I knew from experience could suck my shoes off. I tied them tightly to avoid accidentally losing them if I stepped in a puddle.

  I didn’t dare take a candle, but a full moon cast enough pale light through the windows so that I could find my way through the house. I knew my way well, until I got to the cellar. I realized that I had been so absorbed in speaking with Sasha, in reacquainting myself with his expressions, and in feeling relieved that he was near, that I hadn’t paid attention to where he had led me. I thought it would be easy; all four floors of the palace had the same general layout. But the cellar rooms had been carved up differently and had only tiny windows high up to let in any light. They were smaller and oddly shaped, with hallways that took unexpected twists and turns. I had a general sense that I needed to turn left, but I was soon faced with a choice that I didn’t know how to make. The corridor split, one side going toward what I thought would
be the back of the building, the other going toward the front.

  I stood very still and listened closely. I thought when I turned my head toward the back route that I could discern distant voices. The other way, I heard nothing. Whether it was the right way or not, I would have to risk the route that took me away from the voices. Turning back unsuccessfully would be better than encountering off-duty guards who might have been at the vodka.

  Once I’d made my decision, I moved quickly. I didn’t have very much time. After a few twists and turns, I just made out the door I was looking for in front of me. Someone wanted me to succeed, I thought, and made the sign of the cross and promised that I would pray when this night’s adventure was safely over.

  Now the moon was both my ally and my enemy. It showed me the way clearly, but it would also expose me to anyone who happened to be looking in the direction I was walking. It would be quite difficult, I thought, to stick to the shadows enough to avoid detection. I hoped the guards who were at their posts had relaxed their vigilance enough to be dozing. There hadn’t been any recent attempts by angry mobs or unruly soldiers to breach the iron palings and invade the palace grounds, and none of us had ever risked punishment by breaking the rules of our imprisonment.

  Of course, that was my greatest fear: that my actions—if discovered—could cause the situation to become harder for Mama and Papa, Alexei, Olga, Tatiana, and Mashka. But I could not simply sit and wait, not when Sasha had given me a glimmer of hope. Every day things seemed to be getting worse, not better. And Sasha was right: no one paid much attention to me. I was the only one in the household who had a chance of making something like this work.

  I stayed close to the walls of the palace, making sure I didn’t put a foot out of the dark swath created by their shadow. I knew I would soon enough have to cut across open ground to get to the forest, which would lead me to where I thought I remembered the door. After that, I would either have to pass close to the arsenal or go via the stable for invalid horses. I thought of cutting directly through the woods and staying off the paths, but the snow melt had created puddles and muddy patches that would be impossible to see. In any case, the trees had not all leafed out, and the trunks would provide little camouflage. I could as easily keep to the side of a path and not be seen.