Steve Berry - The Romanov Prophecy

Michael Thorn was perched on a settee next to the staircase.

The lawyer was dressed casually in a tan sweater and blue slacks. He rose as Lord closed the front door and calmly said, "Do you still have that bell?"

He reached into his pocket and handed it to Thorn. He watched as Thorn fitted a gold clapper inside and, with a slight waggle of his wrist, tried to ring it. Only a dull tap came where a ding would be expected.

"Gold is too soft," Thorn said. "But I imagine you need something else to confirm who I am."

He said nothing.

Thorn faced him. "To where the Princess tree grows and Genesis, a Thorn awaits. Use the words that brought you here. Success comes if your names are spoken and the bell is formed." He paused. "You are the raven and the eagle. And I'm who you seek."

Thorn's words came in a whisper, but were delivered in flawless Russian.

Lord stared in disbelief.

"Could we go to your room?" Thorn said.

They walked upstairs in silence. Once inside with the door locked, Thorn said in Russian, "I never thought I would ever see that bell or hear those words. I kept the clapper safe for decades, knowing what I had to do if ever presented with the opportunity. My father warned me the day would come. He waited sixty years and never got his chance. Before he died he told me that it would happen in my lifetime. I didn't believe him."

Lord was still stunned, but he motioned to the bell and asked, "Why is it called Hell's Bell?"

Thorn stepped to the window and gazed out. "It's from Radishchev."

Lord recognized the name. "He was also quoted on a gold sheet left in the San Francisco bank."

"Yussoupov was a fan. A great lover of Russian poetry. One of Radishchev's verses read: God's angels shall proclaim heaven's triumph with three peals of Hell's Bell. Once for the Father, once for the Son, a final for the Holy Virgin. Quite apt, I'd say."

Lord was regaining his composure and, after a moment of silence, asked, "Have you been following what's happening in Russia? Why haven't you come forward?"

Thorn turned back. "My father and I many times argued the point. He was an ardent imperialist, truly of the old school. He knew Felix Yussoupov personally. Talked with him many times. I always believed the time for monarchy had long passed. No room in modern society for such antiquated concepts. But he was convinced Romanov blood would be resurrected. Now that is happening. Still, I was always told not to reveal myself unless the raven and eagle appeared and the words were uttered. Anything less was a trap laid down by our enemies."

"The Russian people want your return," Akilina said.

"Stefan Baklanov will be disappointed," Thorn said.

Lord thought he sensed a twinge of humor in the observation. He told Thorn about his interest in the Tsarist Commission and all that had happened over the past week.

"That was precisely why Yussoupov kept us hidden. Lenin wanted every remnant of Romanov blood extinguished. He wanted no possibility of a restoration. Only later, when he realized Stalin was going to be worse than any tsar ever could have been, did he realize the mistake he made in killing the imperial family."

"Mr. Thorn," Lord began.

"Michael, please."

"Perhaps Your Imperial Majesty is more in order?"

Thorn frowned. "That's a title I will definitely have trouble adjusting to."

"Your life is in real danger. I assume you have a family?"

"A wife and two sons who are both in college. I have yet to discuss this with any of them. That was one condition Yussoupov insisted upon. Total anonymity."

"They need to be told, along with the two sisters you mentioned earlier."

"I plan to tell them. But I'm not sure how my wife's going to react at being elevated to tsarina. My oldest son is going to have some adjusting to do. He's the tsarevich now, his brother a grand duke."

Lord had so many questions, but there was one thing he really wanted to know. "Can you tell us how Alexie and Anastasia made it to North Carolina?"

For the next few minutes, Thorn spoke, telling a tale that made Lord's spine tingle.

It started on the evening of December 16, 1916, when Felix Yussoupov fed cyanide-laced cakes and wine to Gregorii Rasputin. After the poison failed to kill his victim, Yussoupov shot the starets once in the back. When that bullet did not finish the task, others chased the fleeing holy man into a snow-covered courtyard and shot him repeatedly. Then they tossed the body into the frozen Neva River, pleased with their night's work.

After the murder, Yussoupov openly basked in his glory. He saw a political future that might even include a change in the ruling house of Russia from Romanov to Yussoupov. Talk of revolution was spreading throughout the nation. It seemed only a matter of time before the fall of Nicholas II. Yussoupov was already the wealthiest man in Russia. His holdings were vast and wielded considerable political influence. But a man named Lenin was riding a wave of resentment toward ultimate power, and no nobles, regardless of their name, would survive.

The effect of Rasputin's murder on the imperial family was profound. Nicholas and Alexandra retreated more into themselves, and Alexandra began to exercise even greater influence over her husband. The tsar presided over a huge clan who were simply indifferent to their public reputation. They spoke French better than Russian. They stayed abroad more than at home. They were jealous of name and rank, but casual about public obligations. Divorce and bad marriages sent a wrong message to the masses.

All the Romanov relatives hated Rasputin. None lamented his death and some were so bold as to tell the tsar how they felt. The murder drove a wedge into the imperial house. Some of the grand dukes and duchesses even began to openly talk of change. Ultimately, the Bolsheviks exploited that imperial rift by deposing the provisional government that succeeded Nicholas II and forcibly seizing power, murdering as many Romanovs along the way as possible.

Yussoupov, though, continued to publicly state that killing Rasputin was right. Banished by the tsar to one of his estates in central Russia as punishment for the murder, he was conveniently out of reach during the February and October Revolutions of 1917. He'd at first been somewhat supportive of change, even offering his assistance, but once the Soviets seized all his family assets and threatened to arrest him, he realized the mistake he'd made. Rasputin's death had come far too late to alter the course of events. By his misguided attempt to save the realm, Yussoupov actually dealt the Russian monarchy a fatal blow.

It was shortly after the October 1917 revolution and Lenin's rise to power that Yussoupov decided what needed to be done. Being one of the few nobles left with monetary resources, he managed to assemble a group of ex-imperial guardsmen. Their task would be to secure the freedom of the imprisoned royal family and restore the monarchy. He hoped that his change of heart, although late, would be recognized by Nicholas, and the murder of Rasputin forgiven. Yussoupov saw in this quest a way to cleanse his guilt-not for ridding the world of Rasputin, but for the subsequent imprisonment of the tsar.

When the imperial family was removed from Tsarskoe Selo and transported to Siberia in early 1918, Yussoupov knew it was time to act. Three attempts were made at a rescue, but none developed beyond the initial planning. The Bolsheviks maintained a close watch on their imperial captives. George V, king of England and cousin to Nicholas II, was approached about offering the Romanovs safe haven. He initially agreed, but eventually bowed to pressure and refused permission to immigrate.

It was then Yussoupov realized what fate had decided.