Chapter 15
Dusk was falling as the tired horses pulled the coach up to the gates of Moscow. The journey had taken longer than they had anticipated, and everyone’s nerves were on edge, Tanya having become more and more agitated as they neared the capital.
She had used the long journey as a time of renewal: to regain her strength and her looks and to bond with her son. The carriage was comfortable and the snows were beginning to thaw, so although the start of the journey was difficult, they were soon into warmer climes, and they had changed horses at the various forts along the way. Once Verkhoturye was reached and they left the Ural Mountains behind, they found summer had already begun, the frozen north left far behind. The air was humid, and the interior of the coach was airless and stuffy. The roads in places were a quagmire, and the occupants were shaken and rattled in places. Although travelling with a baby had been challenging, Nicholas was a happy and contented child, seeming to understand that he was now safe and loved, and Tanya would marvel at the love she felt overflowing when she held him in her arms. However, even Nicholas had had enough of the journey when at last the spires of Moscow appeared in the distance, and Tanya’s nerves began to jump. The guards opened the gates swiftly on seeing Peterkin’s papers, for the Count ranked high in Moscow. As the coach clattered through the cobbled streets, Peterkin frowned wearily.
‘I still say we would have done better to have gone straight to the Count’s house and checked there for news – we know nothing of the situation here, he may even be there waiting, for all we know.’
Tanya shook her head impatiently.
‘No, no, I told you, he wouldn’t be there kicking his heels, the Tsar sent for him to return from Paris for a reason – something about Narva, I don’t remember exactly, but I’m sure he’s not there. He wouldn’t be sitting at home, he would have come for me. Besides, it’s another day’s journey there, and I must know what is happening. The Kremlin is the best place to find out.’
Peterkin sighed. ‘But we don’t even know if you have permission to be here, you may be in grave danger.’
‘I don’t care,’ snapped Tanya. ‘I don’t care about anything any more except finding Ivan.’
No one spoke again until the sweating horses passed through the outer gate of the Kremlin walls and into the courtyard. Peterkin jumped out and hailed a guard lounging against the wall.
‘Ho there, guard. The Countess Dostoyevskiy is in the coach and wishes to speak with the Tsar. Call your officer and have us taken inside.’
The guard coughed and spat reflectively.
‘Well, now, your honour, I’ll take your word for it, but you won’t see the Tsar.’
Tanya stuck her head out of the window.
‘What are you talking about, you dolt?’ she cried furiously. ‘Do as you are bid.’
He straightened up a little at the sound of her authoritative voice, but shook his head.
‘I’m sorry, madame, I don’t know where you’ve been, but the Tsar and all his officers have been away for weeks, fighting the Swedes. There’s only a few of us left here.’
Tanya’s heart sank. She had come so far and was keyed up to such a pitch she could have wept. She stared blankly at the vacant face of the guard, and it was Peterkin who spoke.
‘Well, call your officer, man, and find someone for the Countess to see. Who’s in charge here?’
‘Count Tolstoy, sir,’ answered the guard, coming to attention at last. ‘I’ll call the officer.’
Tanya instructed Yvette to remain in the courtyard with Nicholas, and within a surprisingly short space of time, they were ensconced in one of the numerous small rooms leading from the audience chamber in the Kremlin. The place was still crawling with the usual motley collection of clerks, priests, and courtiers, although the air of hushed expectancy was missing, the atmosphere seeming lighter somehow, and Tanya was glad for the privacy. The sight of these familiar rooms and passageways had struck her almost like a blow. How vivid were the memories that came flooding back, even after all this time! She could see Erik before her clearly now, his dark eyes mocking her, and she seemed to hear his voice calling her name as she had last heard it, echoing round Execution Square. She was almost sure that a certain alcove they had passed was the very one where she had received her first bitter sweet kiss from Ivan, and she chided herself for a fool.
She paced up and down the small room impatiently and swung round eagerly when at last the door opened to admit a flunkey.
‘If the Countess would follow me please, Count Tolstoy will see her now,’ he said and held the door for her. Peterkin started forward, but Tanya shook her head at him and squeezed his hand. Whatever was to come, she would prefer to face it alone.
She followed the flunkey through the usual endless maze of corridors until at last she was ushered into a study. For a moment she thought she was alone, then was startled as a slight figure detached itself from the shadows and, stepping forward, turned up the lamp.
‘Your pardon, madame, if I frightened you.’
The quiet, cultured voice of the Tsar’s chief counsellor struck a little chord of comfort in Tanya’s heart, and she smiled nervously. She remembered him slightly from her sojourn in Moscow as Princess Mensherikovsky but had had little to do with him, her husband preferring other company to that of the dry, witty count.
Count Andrew Tolstoy polished his monocle and regarded her quizzically, one mobile eyebrow raised.
‘To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure, Countess?’ he asked formally.
Tanya began to pace again, wondering how to begin. His eyes followed her for a moment, then he pulled out a chair.
‘Allow me to offer you a seat, madame, and my congratulations.’
She looked at him sharply. ‘Congratulations?’
‘Why yes. The last time I saw you, you were in very sad straits. Yes, very sad.’ He shook his head thoughtfully, pursing his lips. ‘I honestly didn’t think I would ever have the privilege of gazing upon your fair face again, after your spectacular, er, departure.’
‘You mean, after I escaped from the depths of the Kremlin dungeons, after having been condemned to death for treason?’ stated Tanya baldly, having neither the inclination nor the patience for fencing.
His eyebrow flew up again, and he indicated the chair.
‘Precisely, madame. Please sit down, and allow me to offer you a glass of wine. May I say that it is a privilege to speak to such a gallant lady. I’m glad you made out so well.’
Tanya flushed and looked at him uncertainly, then sat down and spread her skirts as composedly as she could. She folded her hands and fixed him with a direct look.
‘I must tell you, sir,’ she began, ‘firstly that I love my husband very much, and secondly that I don’t know what my position here is, and frankly, I don’t care. I have come here purely for one reason. To find out where my husband is and to throw myself at his feet. I don’t even know if he wants me any more, but I have to find him, I just have to.’
He poured her a glass of wine in silence and handed it to her.
‘Please accept my apologies, madame,’ he said abruptly. ‘I believe I have misjudged you. I will tell you all I know. Firstly, I will put your mind at rest on one thing. The Tsar gave his permission for you to return to Russia as the Countess Dostoyevskiy, and a messenger was dispatched to fetch you. He returned empty-handed and reported that there was no sign of you or your companions. All the innkeeper could say was that you all left abruptly, without even taking all your baggage. He understood someone had been sent from there with some sort of message from your party to the Count, but that message never arrived.’
‘But Ivan,’ interrupted Tanya, looking at him with painful intensity, ‘did he make no effort to find out what had happened to me?’
The Count fiddled with the stem of his glass and frowned pensively.
‘Count Dostoyevskiy was not here when the messenger returned,’ he said abruptly. ‘The Tsar sent him to Narva to sound out the strength of the enemy. He has used him for this purpose many times, as he trusts him implicitly. He sent for him particularly in this case, as he was often in Sweden before the war began, and he knows the various dialects and can pass himself off as a native. He had been to Narva before, it should have been relatively simple for him to slip inside and sound out the situation there.’
‘So that was it,’ sighed Tanya. ‘He knew nothing of what had happened to me. He didn’t see anyone, he didn’t renounce me, he didn’t.’
Suddenly, her heart was singing, for although she had refused to believe the evil Stevanov, yet deep down inside, the fear had gnawed, despite herself. She clasped her hands and sat forward in the chair eagerly.
‘Oh tell me, sir, where is he now? Is he with the Tsar? Why has he not tried to find out what had happened to me?’
Tolstoy cleared his throat and looked acutely uncomfortable, for it fell to him to quench the blaze of joy that was shining from her eyes.
‘I regret to inform you, madame, that no word has been heard from the Count for many weeks. He managed to send out a message about the fortifications, numbers of men, that sort of thing, but nothing further had been heard. Under the circumstances, I am afraid the worst must be feared.’
The colour drained slowly from Tanya’s cheeks, and she leaned back in the chair, looking dazed.
‘What are you saying?’ she whispered through stiff lips. ‘I don’t believe you. Why are you saying these things?’
‘I am sorry, madame,’ he spoke gravely and looked at her with pity in his usually cold eyes. ‘Nothing, of course, is certain. We have heard no news of him at all, but then the gates are fast shut, and even now, the Tsar and his army are massing to take the city. The Tsar has sworn to do so since his humiliating defeat there, and I do not envy the citizens of Narva when the town falls – as it must.’
Tanya looked at him wildly.
‘What do I care of the citizens of Narva?’ she cried impatiently. ‘But while there is a chance Ivan is alive, somewhere within its walls, I’ll not sit here idly. I don’t believe he is dead, if he was, I would feel it here.’ She struck herself on the breast, then jumped to her feet.
‘I must leave immediately,’ she cried and passed a shaking hand across her brow.
‘I would not recommend it, my dear Countess,’ he answered quietly. ‘It will be no place for a lady, believe me.’
‘What do I care?’ cried Tanya fiercely. ‘Worse has happened to me than anything the Swedes could do. Nothing shall keep me away, nothing!’
He looked at her searchingly for a moment, then leaned back in his chair.
‘Very well, madame,’ he said. ‘Against my better judgment, I will not stand in your way. However, it is extremely inadvisable to set out right now. For a start, the city gates have already been closed for the night, and if you will wait until tomorrow, I will furnish you with papers which will assist you to reach the Tsar as quickly as possible. Right now, I suggest you return to your companions, inform them of what has happened, and then return to give me the pleasure of your company at dinner.’
She looked at him blankly.
‘Dinner? I couldn’t eat a thing.’
‘Come, come, Countess, you will change your mind presently, I have no doubt. You are looking considerably thinner and paler than the last time I saw you. You will forgive my forwardness, I am sure, but I should very much like to know exactly where you have been and what you have been doing. I should be honoured by your confidences.’
Tanya’s shoulders sagged, and with a wry look, she capitulated.
‘I am sorry, sir, you must think I am dreadfully rude,’ she said. ‘I can only plead my excessive anxiety over the last few months. Perhaps when you have heard my story, you will understand a little better. I should certainly like to refresh myself and change my clothes. I should be delighted to join you for dinner.’
He bowed over her hand with rare grace, and she followed a servant to the room which had been allotted to her. She sent for Yvette who brought her son to her. She kissed him and held him against her breast, her heart aching as she saw how already the resemblance to his father was showing, then handed him back to Yvette who promised to see to his needs.
Soon she was soaking away her aches and pains in the scented water of her bath. She had never lost the almost sensual delight she felt in bathing, a relic of the days when a quick wash in the icy water of a pump was all she could hope for, and of course, without a doubt, the ordeal of the last few months had renewed it.
She didn’t speak at all, and although Yvette was burning with curiosity, she dared not speak, for Tanya looked so white and strange. She dressed her and arranged her hair, all in silence.
‘I’m dining with Count Tolstoy,’ Tanya informed her eventually. ‘Please send for Peterkin.’
Peterkin arrived quickly, and it was obvious he had been anxiously awaiting a summons. One look at Tanya’s face was enough to inform him that all was not well.
‘Peterkin, Count Dostoyevskiy is missing,’ stated Tanya flatly, as soon as the three of them were alone. ‘That is why he made no attempt to find me. Your messenger never arrived here at all, anyway.’ Rapidly, she informed them of what she had learnt. Throughout, she maintained an obvious, fierce belief that Ivan was still alive. Peterkin accepted with equanimity the information that he and Tanya were leaving for Narva first thing in the morning. Then she turned to Yvette.
‘I am asking much of you, I know, in taking your husband away, but I must ask more of you. I’m truly sorry, but please Yvette, will you take Nicholas to his father’s estates and wait there until I can bring Ivan home to him? You are the only one I can trust to look after him properly for me, and I can’t expose him to the dangers ahead. I know I have ruined your married life. You haven’t even had the chance of a proper honeymoon yet because of me, and now I’m separating you again. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. When Ivan comes home, if you wish it, we’ll give you a house of your own, servants, and money, whatever you want. Nothing is too great to repay all that you have done for me.’
The couple exchanged embarrassed glances and murmured their thanks. Privately, each was thinking that the chances of Ivan ever returning were slim, indeed, but neither would have dreamt of voicing their thoughts.
Yvette promised to take Nicholas to the Count’s home, and Tanya wrote a letter to the housekeeper there to explain about Nicholas. Peterkin and Tanya then discussed the best plan of campaign for tomorrow. It would take them about three weeks to reach Narva. They were just trying to decide which way would be quickest when Tanya was summoned to dine with Count Tolstoy.
She was soon eating some of the best food the Kremlin kitchens could supply. The Count regarded her with amusement as she worked her way through several courses with unflagging appetite. He entertained her with a flow of the latest news of the war and of the Tsar’s exploits. At last, she leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh and began munching scented nuts from a bowl at her elbow. She caught the Count’s eye and laughed.
‘You must think me a dreadful pig. I’m making up for lost time. Would you really like to hear what has been happening to me since I left Moscow?’
He nodded gravely. ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure,’ he said courteously.
The Count was a good listener, and Tanya gave him a shortened version of her adventures, keeping the more private details to herself. When she had finished, he refilled their glasses and, leaning back, regarded her thoughtfully over the rim of his glass.
‘If it were not for the fact that, I am sure, no one could have invented such a story, I would never have believed it,’ he said eventually. ‘You are a very lucky young woman to be sitting here at all.’
‘I don’t feel very lucky at the moment,’ replied Tanya in a small voice. ‘After what you told me earlier, I don’t feel anything very much, except an overwhelming desire to get to Narva as soon as possible.’
‘You won’t change your mind then?’ Tolstoy asked quizzically.
Tanya sat up straight, almost knocking the bowl of nuts over in her agitation. ‘No, no,’ she cried. ‘Don’t say you’ve changed yours, please.’
‘No, I won’t go back on my word, but I still strongly advise against it. You will forgive my brutal frankness, but the chances of your finding your husband alive and well are virtually nil.’
Tears started to well up in Tanya’s eyes. ‘Don’t say it, please, I’m not even thinking any further than just getting there. I think I’d go quietly mad if I stayed here doing nothing.’
He nodded. ‘Yes, you’re probably right, but remember what I have said. Don’t let it be too great a blow if you don’t find him.’
On that sombre note, the Count rose. ‘I hope you will forgive my leaving you now, Countess, but affairs of state unfortunately will not wait, and the Tsar has left much in my hands. I have arranged for a coach to leave as soon, after daybreak, as you are ready. I have detailed two guards to ride with you and a coachman to drive you. I will send the necessary papers to your room. Just ring the bell if you need anything. May I wish you good luck in your search, and God go with you.’ He bowed over her hand and left.
Tanya sat quietly in her chair, staring unseeingly at the rich hangings covering the walls. Out there somewhere, she was sure, Ivan was living and breathing; nothing would ever convince her otherwise – only the sight of his lifeless body would make her give up the search! She ignored the bell but slipped out of the room alone, flitting through the corridors like a ghost. She felt a strong desire to be alone, somewhere where the night wind blew and, finding an ascending staircase, followed its twisting spiral upwards. It was one of the outer towers of the palace, and she climbed higher and higher until she was panting for breath. She had not passed a soul at this late hour, for with the Tsar away, and most of his Court at their summer houses away from the city heat, the Kremlin was strangely empty.
At last, she reached the top of the stairs and stepped out on to the battlement, drawing in great gulps of the balmy night air. How beautiful Moscow looked in the moonlight! The clear silver moonlight and deep black shadows hid the sordid sights that during the day robbed the city of its good qualities. The beggars and thieves that Tanya knew about all too well were hidden from sight, though she knew they were thronging the dark alleyways and back streets. Even the Kremlin itself looked peaceful, although Tanya knew from its outer walls hung numerous bodies, rotting in their rusty chains whilst the Kremlin vultures sat by, disdainfully, knowing that fresher meat would be provided on the morrow. She shuddered and turned her back on the gleaming towers and minarets spread out before her. She turned, instead, to the west, her heart winging its way over the long miles towards Nyenskans – or Petersburg as the Tsar had ordered it to be called. It was there that Peter and his army were gathering, ready to advance towards Narva and avenge the defeat that he had never forgotten. Tomorrow she would be free of this city that she could never really like, she had too many bad memories of it. The only good thing that had happened to her here was meeting Ivan. All her life before he had come into it seemed to blur into unreality. She must find him! So, Tanya stood high on the rooftop of the Kremlin, her whole being straining towards the man she loved. What would the future bring? Of one thing Tanya was sure – if Ivan was dead, then for her there was no future at all!