Jesse Ball - The Way Through Doors

Her first act was to call to her first minister.

— Inovsky, she said. I want you to strip the Count M. of all his lands. I want you to strip him of all his honors. I want you to strip his family of their lands and honors. I want you to cause terrible things to happen even to people he vaguely regarded from afar with affection.

— Very good, said the Count Inovsky, who had long despaired of regaining the empress’s ear in light of the dominance that the Count M. had recently enjoyed.

— Torvald, she called out.

— Yes, Empress, responded her second minister.

— I want you to have the marriage of the Count M. and the grand duke’s daughter annulled. I want her to be married off again to the most brutal man you can find, perhaps that Italian ambassador, Balthazar something, whatever his name is.

— At once, my empress.

— Third Minister, she shouted.

Her third minister then came out from the dark, shaded portion of the room, where he had been standing quietly. The first two ministers were astonished to see him. They had not known he was still living, and they certainly had not thought he retained any of the power that he had once used to scourge the land in the reign of the empress’s father. For the third minister was a dastardly and evil man, infamous for his depravity.

— Yes, my dear, he said, presuming even then upon her diabolical favor.

— I want you to search throughout our land of Russia. Search everywhere, in and out of borders, frontiers, estates. I want you to find for me the ugliest woman who now lives in our broad and implacable land. Bring her here.

— Thy will be done, said the third minister.

One week passed, then another. The Count M.’s life was ruined in a single blow. His wife was married off to another; his fortunes were dispelled with an imperial stamp. He tried even to kill himself, but was stopped by the first minister’s soldiers, and kept under watch to await the empress’s pleasure.

All up and down the land the third minister traveled in a dark coach, sampling the ugly wares of this burg and that hamlet. He traveled even into the depths of Siberia, along obscure trade routes to forgotten principalities. After two months he returned, and in his train was the ugliest woman that ever man had set eyes upon. He brought her in secret conference before the empress, and the smile that rose then upon her face would have lit a ballroom.

— We are pleased, she said. You do no disservice to your own twisted reputation.

— I thank you, he said, and did a manic little bow.

Meanwhile, the ugliest of women stood by, worrying at the sleeve of her shift.

— Where did you find her? asked the empress in the tone of voice a botanist might use in conversation with a colleague, a tone of clinical curiosity.

— In Szarthel, said the minister. She is the daughter of a wealthy merchant. For many years he kept her in his house, her only company the many books that lined the walls. One of my soldiers saw her through a window, and brought me word.

The empress nodded. Her lovely features tensed a moment in a paroxysm of cruel thought.

— Organize for me, my minister, said the empress, a parade of misshapen and frightening folk. Bring me dwarves and giants, beasts and patch-skinned dogs. Arrange for me a parade. For I mean to marry the Count M. to this our lady, and I mean to have a wedding party that the world shall remember.

Out then the minister went, and he gathered together the makings of this parade. As per the empress’s plan, he commissioned the building of an ice palace at one end of Moscow. The parade was to begin at the other.

The day in question dawned slowly and silently. The empress went down in the dissipating darkness to the room where the ugliest of women was being kept.

— You, she said.

The ugliest of women said nothing.

— Today you are to marry the man whom I once loved. Do you know this?

Still the ugliest of women said nothing.

— I am giving to you possibly the most remarkable man that was ever born and raised in this our land of Russia. He is a king among men. His tastes are the most refined tastes, his passions the most refined passions. I am giving him to you, forcing you upon him, because I know how horrible it will be for him who was once raised above all other men to taste the wares of a creature as despicable as you. What do you have to say to that?

To that, the ugliest of women said nothing, and the empress went away. But there in the dawn, the ugliest of women smiled, and she said to herself, Still I will make him happy. Ugly as I am, I will please him, if he is so great a man.

The guard who had admitted the empress came then again to the ugliest of women.

— There is someone to see you, Kolya, he said.

— Thank you, said Kolya quietly. I would like that.

Then a young woman entered the room, dressed strangely. She sat down beside Kolya and took her hands into her own.

— This is how things are going to proceed.

And she told Kolya the remainder of the story. This heartened Kolya tremendously, and she thanked the girl, even going so far as to kiss her hand. The girl gave Kolya a drawing that looked like this:

and then went away. The guard came soon after, with waiting women who bore Kolya’s wedding gown. Bells rang out across Moscow. The populace was roused. All the major nobles were forced to be in attendance upon the empress for the spectacle that was about to unfold.

Out then into the street came the ugliest of women, dressed in a gown so lovely that none who saw it could report ever having seen anything its equal. The empress was a brilliant general in this her war, and she had realized the glorious touch that a faultless gown would give to the proceedings. She had hired the best dressmakers in all of Russia, and even brought in an expert from France who was later strangled in a town near the border.

The ugliest of women stood defiant as the crowded street prodded her with jibes and the throwing of small stones. The empress had approved the throwing of stones no larger than a certain size. Such stones, she reasoned, would not harm the parade’s participants, but might help in breaking their will. She had many stones of the precisely correct proportion distributed along the parade route in buckets stamped with her insignia. Such preparations she had made.

The ugliest of women waited, but not long, for after a moment a gate behind her was thrown open, and out of it poured the parade, gamboling on its hind legs, crawling and lurching, laughing and shrilling madly back and forth. But she did not stir from her expression, or tense a muscle towards flight. Quietly she turned her back upon the parade, and began to walk.

The empress was ahead, awaiting the coming of the parade, her court about her. And, tethered, as he had once tethered many a bear, the Count M. in rags, he too awaiting the coming of the parade. He did not know what was to happen, for he had been kept until this time in an oubliette beneath the empress’s chamber. However, since emerging he had heard already six of the fifteen rumors that were circulating.

Up the boulevard, the ghastly parade! It rounded a slow curve and emerged into view. The Count M., seeing for the first time his fate, recoiled slightly. In his defense, perhaps he recoiled less at the horror of the features of the ugliest of women, and more at the lengths he suddenly saw that the empress had gone to in order to destroy him. By God, he thought. That woman must really have loved me. And for a moment he regretted having spurned her.

The empress’s lovely breast meanwhile was heaving with pleasure and grand anticipation. She had seen the count twitch, and she had desired no more than that, had, in fact expected far less. For as we have said, the count was a redoubtable man, and not to be shaken easily.