The Witches of St. Petersburg

‘Stay!’ she replied, a little too swiftly. He looked puzzled. ‘You are cold,’ she added. He hesitated. ‘And you must be hungry, starving. We have sweet cakes, Madeira. All your favourite things. Let me warm you and get you something to eat.’

‘But the soldiers?’

‘Many things might have changed but no one would doubt the word of a Grand Duchess.’ She smiled encouragingly. ‘They will soon disappear to find vodka in the village.’

*

Half an hour later a servant delivered a tray of small cakes and Madeira wine to her private drawing room. Intimate, filled with many of Militza’s most precious philosophical and religious texts, it was rare she entertained here. The fire was well-stoked and Rasputin was lying on her peach velvet button-backed divan, his damp clothes steaming, his small leather bag of possessions next to him on the floor.

Militza was at his gnarled feet, gently washing them in a bowl of hot, scented water.

‘Relax,’ she soothed.

‘Are they still out there?’ He sat up, nervously glancing towards the window. ‘I can feel their presence and smell their sweat; their blood is up, the night is cold and getting colder still – their master shall not keep his hounds at bay for much longer.’

‘They wouldn’t dare. You’re safe here.’

‘Safe?’ he snorted. ‘None of us is safe, my dear, not any more.’

‘What happened to your shoes?’ she asked, wringing out the cloth and letting the warm water trickle between his toes. The sweet smell of Indian sandalwood rose up in the vapours and began to fill the air.

‘I lost them somewhere in the forest. I took my boots off on the train and didn’t have time to get them on again before I saw them at the station. I had to leap from a moving train to get away from those bastards! They mean to banish me from the city. Me? From the city. My city!’ He laughed. ‘Little do they know who they are dealing with!’

He sat in silence while Militza continued her washing. The severity of his situation had stunned him. He had been utterly unprepared. He would not make the same mistake again. Who had sent them? Who had betrayed him? Didn’t they know who his friends were? How powerful he was? They would surely pay.