“I want you three men,” Yurovsky shouted, his pistol ever in hand, “to patrol the area and shoot anyone on sight.”

Hearing this, I slunk into some deep bushes, crouched down, and watched the Red bastards handle the Imperial Family like slaughtered animals.

It was a fiasco, a farce right from the beginning. This area, this place, was only a few versts from village Koptyaki, a hamlet of a few dozen wood huts, and before the Romanovs were even stripped of their clothing the entire village knew that their Tsar had been murdered and where he was to be buried. Furthermore, the Four Brothers was an open mine, not a tunnel, but a big hole. It was a pitshaft, actually, and not very deep, not really, maybe some twenty feet at most, and the bottom of it was filled with water, very cold water. In short, it was the stupidest place to think of burying anyone, be he peasant or king.

Komendant Yurovsky ordered the bodies unloaded, and the men eagerly swarmed upon Nikolai, Aleksandra, the girls, the others. They dragged the Imperial Family and their attendants off the carts and threw them in a pile like game from an imperial hunt. It was then that I realized they were dead, all dead, including of course Tatyana. I saw her heaved atop and knew without doubt that she was gone.

“I don’t want anyone to be able to identify these bodies,” shouted the komendant. “So I want you to strip them all. What you can’t pull off, we’re going to have to cut away.”

And this these animalmen did, pulling and slicing boots and jackets, blouses and shirts from the hated Romanovs. Soon there were diamonds spilling from the corsets into the mud, which sent an electric charge through the men all over again. Working with great frenzy, they found the gold on Aleksandra’s wrist and the ropes of pearls around her waist. When one of the men couldn’t get a ring off Aleksandra’s finger – the one given her by her Uncle Leo – he took out his knife and cut the finger clean away. Sure. I watched as he yanked the ring free, secretly stuffed it in his pocket, then tossed aside the manicured finger; months upon months later, Investigator Sokolov, whom the Whites brought in to try find the imperial remains, found this very finger, which to this day remains preserved in a jar of alcohol in Paris.

Altogether it didn’t take the Red barbarians long to strip their victims, and soon the Imperial Family and their servants were lying about this way and that, naked in the mud. Yurovsky then ordered a big bonfire built, and this his men did as well. They built this fire and threw the clothing into the flames.

It was then of course that they discovered that two of the Romanovs were missing. Yurovsky… he went crazy. He started running around screaming. He counted the bodies over and over. Then he… he called for two guards. He gave them two horses and told them to ride off and…

Oi, I have lied so much and for so long that I have almost forgotten the real truth, which is so difficult to let pass my lips. But… but I… I started running then. I looked back only once. Big Dr. Botkin – two men started to drag his naked body toward the opening of the mine. They each had him by a foot, and they were pulling him face down. Later, much later, this Sokolov man also found Botkin’s dentures all caked with mud. Eggshells too. Sokolov found lots of eggshells, which turned out to be the very ones the good Sister Antonina and Novice Marina had brought. Hard cooked, the eggs meant for food for the Romanovs had instead nourished their killers.

As for the bodies…

Well, they were never found there. Later, once Yurovsky and his men had burned all the clothing and had tossed the troopy – the carcasses – into the mine, the guards hurled in hand grenades. But they couldn’t seal it up. It was impossible, for the ground was too tough. And this terrible thing that was supposed to be so secret? Well, the Four Brothers Mine proved to be only the first grave of Tsar Nikolai, his family, and faithful. And it turned out to be their grave for less than thirty hours.

Da, da, da, and as those awful men dragged along faithful Dr. Botkin, I ran. I ran through the wood and straight to her, straight to Grand Duchess Maria Nikolaevna, whom I had left bleeding there in a wood and against a pine.

19

So I charged through the woods as fast as I could, knowing that anything could happen. I could be caught by the Reds and shot. A villager could see me and turn me in. Maria could be dead by the time I reached her. But I was determined to keep my promise. And I did. I returned to that spot in the pine wood where I had abandoned Grand Duchess Maria.

At first I wasn’t sure if she was still alive. She sat just as I had left her, propped up against the tree, her eyes closed, her hands wrapped around her brother’s. Rushing up to her, I dropped to my knees, reached out and gently touched her on the shoulder. Her eyes fluttered, then opened.

“Ah… my Leonka.”

Almost immediately she drifted away again, tumbled back into shock. Sure, I knew she needed immediate medical help, but I also knew that I had to hide her better. So I picked her up. I picked her up in my arms and carried her as far as I could into the wood. When I could go no more, I found a tree that had been half-blown over. Its roots had been lifted up and there was a den of sorts beneath that. It was into this dark corner that I placed the Grand Duchess. As carefully as I could, I laid her down on the soft dirt floor. She moaned, but nothing more.

“I’ll be right back,” I whispered.

Wasting no time, I returned to the Heir, whom I also gathered in my arms. I carried him too. With my jacket over his head, I carried his lifeless body all the way to the hidden den, and there I likewise placed him.

Turning to the Grand Duchess, I touched her on the shoulder, and said, “I’m back. I brought your brother.”

But there was no response of any kind. She’d lost so much blood that she was no longer conscious. And I understood she was dying. I didn’t want to leave her again, but I had no choice. She needed medical attention. She was dying and needed care that I didn’t know how to give. And so I hid Maria and Aleksei. I covered the opening of the den with branches, and departed once again.

I raced along, thinking I would go directly to Father Storozhev. But as I approached the city, I looked down and saw that my shirt and pants were smeared with blood. There was no way I could go into the center of Yekaterinburg looking like that; I’d be picked up by the Reds in an instant. So I had no choice. I went to my only other friends, the only others I could trust. I went all the way around the edge of town to the monastery, where I found the good Sister Antonina and Novice Marina, who had already tried that morning to bring foodstuffs to The House of Special Purpose. Instead of being able to deliver their goods, however, they were turned away and told never to return. Not ever. A few hours later the entire town was abuzz, everyone saying that something horrible had happened to the Tsar and all the rest of us.

Upon seeing me and my blood-stained clothes, Sister Antonina gasped and crossed herself, whereas Novice Marina, who’d assumed me dead, all but screamed.

“Leonka, my child!” cried the sister, crossing herself. “What’s happened?”

I started to cry. Immediately the sister took me into a windowless chamber, and it was there that I explained the events of the night. I sobbed. Sure, with tears in my eyes I told them of the murders, of how I’d found Aleksei and Maria, of what I’d seen at the mine, and I begged for their help, begged for them to come at once.

“I don’t know how much longer Maria can last!”

They wasted no time. Sister Antonina and Novice Marina flew into action. They gathered up bandages and other medical things, and I led them around the edge of town and into the wood. All the way there Sister Antonina kept chanting prayers, begging for God’s mercy and crossing herself. It seemed to take forever, and I worried the whole way that we would be discovered, but finally we made it to the hidden den, whereupon we found the first light in the nightmare.