Anastasia Romanov (Sequel) Page 10

  I paused for a moment. Maybe Trotsky was right. Deep inside my cold black heart, I did want to help these people.

  "I'm not here to command you what to do. I have no right to even stand here. All I want to say is the way of life can be beautiful again if you let us unite and fight shoulder to shoulder for a new world—fight for a planet that is not bleak and terrifying to live in. Let us put aside our grudges and give each other a chance to work together for our future, and most importantly, for our loved ones."

  There was a deadly silence afterward. The cry of a wild bird echoed through the clear blue sky. I could feel my heart pounding from the emotions I had conjured up into this speech, but I couldn't tell whether it had the same effect upon these people. When I started to turn my back away, a few rows of the soldiers lowered their heads and put their hands over their chests. One by one the rest of the Cossacks followed suit. It was as if a rippling wave red and black dominos as they bowed in respect.

  "Hail, Anastasia!" one of the younger Cossack yelled. Then the others echoed his salutation. The cheering was almost overwhelming.

  From the corner of my eyes, Trotsky was smiling while the Cossack General stared at me and the army with wide impressed eyes.

  I turned around to find Vale and everyone else looking with the same wonder. This was the best feeling I had ever had in ages.

  THAT NIGHT AFTER THE sun gave off its last ray, they had a celebration. The feast was held where soldiers killed three grown deer they had hunted, five lambs, goats, and some chickens from their food farms. They roasted the meats over fires and sat around sharing homemade vodka.

  Trotsky, Krasnoff and I sat at a table with the Beta and the Alpha. Lyra joined the table with Ark and his nephew nearby. The soldiers offered us, the only vampires, shots of liquor and wine mixed with animal blood they had slaughtered for the feast. The night air was cold and not as windy. The area was warm by the fires and filled with loud voices from the chatting and laughing men. I hardly ever experienced such energetic atmosphere like this.

  Krasnoff was somewhat accepting of me now more than earlier. He was a cautious man. It must have taken Trotsky, his former arch enemy, a great deal to convince him.

  Trotsky called out to request a song. Before I knew it, the Cossacks brought out their musical instruments as if they had been waiting for this moment.

  They started playing their folk music, the Gusli, the Zhaleika folk clarinet, Bubens tambourine, and a three-stringed pear-shaped Hudok.

  The female Cossacks changed into costumes made of light robes and then started dancing Kostroma, a spectacular and beautiful evocative dance of ancient Russian culture.

  Then they sang a song called Von Moiom Sadochké, In My Garden, a folk song of ancient Siberian natives.

  "Oh, my nighttime

  Yes in my sadochké."

  The women sang in unison as the men chorused and beat their tambourines to the dance rhythm. The sounds of clarinets and Gusli lyres were animated and lively, it seemed to stir up the fire and the night air with charging energetic melodies.

  "Gather flowers,

  Oh, ri-di-da...Oh, da-da-ri!

  Yes gather flowers in my sadochké."

  The children of the soldiers and hunters danced among themselves and sang along with their angelic voices.

  The young maidens had formed two circles around the bonfire, hopping up and down, swirling their long flowing skirts and throwing their hands in the air to the delightful music. All faces were smiling, as if forgetting their fear and hardship for once. I watched them move gracefully and found myself getting lost in their world of merriment. The hunters no longer gave me that scorn looks. If anything, they simply showed off their livelihood to me.

  "Did you see that, Anastasia?" Trotsky leaned over to whisper to me. "These people are full of life. They hold on to it and cherish it, knowing they might lose it someday. They have a reason to live— a life to fight for."

  "And you suppose we don't?" I said, looking back at the smiling general.

  "Of course, we do," he chuckled. "In fact, we have plenty of unrealistic reasons to live for, and why none of them are worth having? Because all of them are granted easily to us by the hand of immortality, and not by our conscious will. We don't live with the zeal running in our veins like these people, whose times are limited."

  "You can't overgeneralize this. A lot of us bloodsuckers are having the time of our lives out there," I said in a tone that was bitter than I had intended.

  "I know that, Anastasia," he said with a shake of his head. "But they're barely humans enough to even realize how life feels like anymore, aren't they? Tell me when was the last time you heart pumped so hard it almost burned itself out?"

  As quick as a lightning, the memory of my former love flashed into my mind, but I buried it deep inside of me where I could forget it.

  "Aren't you afraid that when it is all over, they won't be needing you around anymore?" I decided to change the subject.

  "Afraid? Of dying when you're already dead?" Trotsky said and let out another laugh. "That is the worst thing about being immortal, Anastasia."

  I was about to say something when we heard Damir coming to pull Valerina and her sister to dance.

  They both refused at the same time but then Krasnoff called out to the musicians and suggested a particular song. After that he turned to Trotsky again.

  "Don't you want to see your god-daughters dance the Cossack Sword Dance again?"

  "Ah, yes! I almost forgot," Trotsky said with a smile and turned to Vale. "Why don't you show our special guest the dance?"

  Vale was ready to protest when Damir quickly shoved a long sabre into her hand and pulled her to where the music started and the song began. She was blushing red under my gaze, but maybe it was just the heat from the fire.

  Damir smiled in encouragement as the other male hunters and soldiers eagerly watched her in anticipation.

  The Alpha and I sat quietly at the table while the two generals preoccupied themselves.

  Then musicians drowned all noises with beautiful melodies that flowed easily from their skillful hands.

  Seeing as she could not escape, Vale slowly and reluctantly began to move herself to the music and started swinging the sword in her hand, changing from left to right in complete grace. The blade spun around herself faster and faster until it was only a blur. The reflection of her blade against the firelight flashed at our faces. Vale twirled her body elegantly to the turning of her swaying hips. The hem of her leather coat swirled around her body like a descending angel. Her hair flew about her shoulders as she danced. Then her hands threw the sword over her head in one swift motion and caught it on the way down again, still resuming its spinning motion in her expert hands.

  Damir tossed her a second sabre and she grabbed it cleanly with a tiny smile, and for a moment it made me wish I was the one who received that sweet gesture from the huntress. Vale wasn't just standing there. With two swords now, the huntress moved in precise dance steps around the fire like the way a ballerina moved around the stage. Everyone was hypnotized by the swords and mesmerized by the dance of this lovely maiden.

  And when the music ended, an exploding cheer erupted among the crowd. Krasnoff and Trotsky stood up and applauded Vale. She smiled breathlessly and gave a feminine courtesy to everyone. I found myself clapping along with the others, still too stunned by her astonishing performance.

  When Vale caught my eyes, I could have sworn a blush on her cheeks and she had to look away.

  The women together sang in verses of another winter song.

  "O Zimuskha-Winter

  Winter is cold

  Oh, don't freeze me winter,"

  And the good molodca."

  Later that night even as I closed my eyes when I laid down in bed, the beautiful folk songs and the dancing and laughing still rang pleasantly in my ears. I hummed to the melodies in my head, luring myself into a deep peaceful sleep.

  And the last thing in my mind was my beau
tiful Vale and her graceful sword dance.

  "O Zimushka-Zima

  Zima morozliva,

  Ne moroz Zima..."

  Chapter 20

  Alexandra

  IT WAS THE FIRST WARM sun in the small hours of a new winter day in Kremlin. I walked towards one of the untended corners of Alexander's Garden, passing the grim-looking vampire guards posted in the shadow along the arched ways. They bowed as I went passed them. A number of royal guards trailed behind me.

  The meeting with the Royal Council was a hellish affair, to say the least, and it resulted in me having a tongue-lashing at the parliament members of Biley Dom, most notably General Konstantin.

  He cowered under my rage as I was informed by Victor of the previous meeting, and how unsatisfied he was when Anastasia had handled the issue.

  The Russian Sleep experiment was still being carried out despite my sister's decree to shut it down. It was more than enough to snap their necks one at a time for their disrespect. Thinking about the vampire and his proposal of human soldiers made my blood boil. I could understand why Anastasia ordered the project to be terminated.

  But there were other issues that required my careful consideration. Though the Council was loyal to my family, it was my father they devoted their service to. Regardless, I was only a symbol of him. They might have bitten back their tongues around me now, but I could still see the rising disappointment and distaste over my decision.

  Of course, I used to be the mastermind of our revolution back in the day. I crafted each plan to reclaim my empire. And after much strife and bloodshed, I finally inherited this broken nation and a court filled with the intriguing legacy of a complacent Czar. Some of the nobles still thought of my father as a misguided ruler who trusted his own judgment way too much. Thus this led to the collapse of the Romanov Dynasty. I had promised myself that I would never repeat my father's mistake.

  Yet now, my judgment seemed as though it had been overruled by the same weakness.

  "Leave." I waved the guards away and they bowed and left. I took a deep breath and relaxed my stiff posture before entering the sweet-scented place.

  The garden had a huge white-painted cabana built from marbles at the center. The flowing sheer cloths flicked against the winter wind. Broken sculptures of cupids and women looked haunting. The vine-covered birdbaths stood in the area with their water froze to ice.

  The place was more like a cemetery than a garden.

  I thought of the summer days when my mother would sit and read inside the cabana while my other sisters would chase butterflies around the flowery bushes. I would stay inside the cabana with her. Sometimes my mother would read from the book to me or tell a story of the Firebird.

  Once or twice, a palace maid would come running with news of Anastasia's mischief. I didn't remember what my sister did, but she always got complaints from her governess. My mother would sigh and summon her to us. Then she and my mother would sit in each other's arms and I was forgotten. Whenever she caused troubles, my father only said Anastasia was simply too smart for her age.

  I guessed a lot had changed after a hundred year. The garden was no longer brilliant and colorful, especially this time of year, and it would never be as well-trimmed by the human care. The place now seemed old and gray and tired of growing.

  I saw the familiar figure sitting in the solitary on a couch inside the cabana. Avery's face was the only thing I longed to see, but now it showed nothing but worries and sadness. I knew exactly what had caused her gloomy mood.

  Avery heard me approaching and turned around. I entered the cabana and held my arms out to her. She came and wrapped her small elegant frame into me.

  "Alex," she said in a heavy tone laced with concerns. "Any news of Ana?"

  I tightened my hold and kissed the crown of her head.

  "We are trying to look for her," I said. "I'm sure we will find Anastasia soon."

  My voice sounded hollow and empty of assurance so Avery had no problems sensing the truth.

  "Alex what if they already killed her?" Avery asked, looking up at me with visible emotional pain.

  "There is no claim of her death nor any demand for her safety from the Hunters," I said. "We will still have to keep looking."

  Then I sat down on the soft couch and pulled her onto my lap.

  "Anastasia will be fine," I told Avery and brushed a strand of her beautiful brown lock behind her ear. "I have a feeling that she is still alive. Trust me."

  Avery nodded slowly and rested her head on my shoulder.

  "There are no flowers here, not even a single rose," she whispered. "Everything seems so lifeless."

  "It's winter time. Persephone is still in the Underworld, but when she comes back in spring, I'm sure the garden will come back to life with her."

  Avery giggled a little at that and turned her face over to kiss my lips. I returned the kiss sweetly. When we parted, she gave me a sad smile.

  "But if you can't wait for Persephone to return, I will make it spring for you," I said, rubbing circles on the small of her back. "I will order people to tidy the garden and build a glass house like the one in Botanical Garden right here."

  Avery just smiled and shook her head.

  "That's not what I meant, Alex," she said and was quiet again. I was waiting for her to tell me more but she never did. We sat like that for a while until Victor walked towards us.

  "How was your meeting, Grand Duchess?" he asked softly with a low bow. I motioned for him to enter the cabana. He sat down on one of the armchairs facing me. Avery got up and brought us some tea.

  "I dismissed it," I said as I took a sip of the warm drink. Victor did the same. He didn't seem surprised and just nodded.

  "Grand Duchess Anastasia also said the exact same words when I asked her," he told me afterward.

  I looked up at him. Victor smiled as if to acknowledge that small trace of sibling trait. Avery sat close to me as her hand kept holding mine, but I could sense that she also noticed this through our touch.

  "She was right to do so," I said later.

  "Anyway, I came here with this," Victor said and pulled out two golden envelopes and handed them to me.

  "One was sent from your great grandmother, Queen Victoria of England," he said. "The other is from your uncle, the Kaiser."

  I frowned and then hurriedly broke off the red seals of both letters.

  Reading carefully, I realized that the content of the messages from each monarch had been addressed to my sister.

  "Anastasia wrote to them?" I said, still keeping my eyes glued to the writing on the papers.

  "She did it before she went to Ostankino."

  "What's the matter, Alex?" Avery looked on with a wary face.

  "Anastasia asked for the support of the Queen to put an end to the German military expansion and to join force with Russia if the Kaiser still violates the treaties among the Allied Nations," I said for both of them to know. "The Queen said she will consider the matter."

  "She still sounds hesitant," Victor said solemnly. "What did the Kaiser respond?"

  I let out a big sigh and tossed the letter aside. "He just doesn't care."

  "We will need the other nations to go against the German Empire," the man said thoughtfully. "The Tennoh of Japan is also preparing his army. I'm afraid if the war really breaks, the Tennoh will lead his force to invade Russia again."

  I leaned myself back and took a deep breath. Avery looked more worried as she realized what I was currently facing. I squeezed her hand to reassure her and then turned to Victor again.

  "I will bring the issue to the other leaders and make them stand up against the Kaiser," I said. "Obviously, Russia can't fight two enemies at the same time."

  "Grand Duchess, pardon me...but may I give you a suggestion?" Victor said and leaned his face forward.

  "Speak," I told him.

  "The only way to make the other nations listen to you is to overpower them," he started, his violet eyes brightened. "Most of the vam
pire leaders are egoistic rulers of the old world. They won't listen if they still think you are not their equal."

  "How do I do that?"

  "We need a coronation, Grand Duchess," Victor said slowly. "You have to be crowned as the new Czarina of Russia."

  Chapter 21

  Anastasia

  SITTING ON A HORSE-drawn sledge with Trotsky, I could feel the freezing wind riffled through the layers of my coat. I took a gulp of whiskey from a flask handed over to me by the General. The heat from the drink burned away the coldness in my empty stomach. Lyra didn't come with me since they had a protocol for outsiders. I guessed they figured that it was for safety reason.

  Beside us were a dozen hunters riding on their high horses and sledges pulled by Siberian huskies. Several motor-skis led the way. We got out of the mountain castle and back towards the Cossack camp. Trotsky wanted to familiarize me with the lives of his army—to get both the hunters and the Cossacks to trust me, I had to be a part of them.

  A few feet ahead of us were the Alpha and the Beta. I had been staring unknowingly at the latter since we left. Her hair cascaded down perfectly and her red cap fell in rich folds as the golden sunlight bounced off her white horse, making the sight even more intriguing.

  On either side of the path were dark tall trees and bushes. Then we heard howling from the depth of the forest. They belonged to wolves by the sound of it. I saw Vale steered her horse away from the group. The gesture didn't seem to surprise anyone but me. I watched her galloping off to the edge of the path and took something out of her leather bag. It looked like a chunk of red meat.

  A few wolves appeared from behind the trees. I sat up straight from the couch. The beast had eyes as sharp as icicles, gleaming like sapphires in the dark. But instead of the look that burned with fierce hunger, they seemed to be pleading. Some even yelped at the huntress. Vale quickly threw the meat one after another towards the savage animals. The wolves caught their treats in mid-air, tearing the meat effortlessly with their white razor-sharp fangs.