23 steps down
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17th July, 1918, Ekaterinburg
One, two, three,Four maidens in heavy skirts set their feet on creaky stairs. Woken up in the middle of the night, obeying their mother´s silent oreder, they had dressed into their special clothes. Rubies and pearls and emeralds were sewn into them, so no one could discover them.
four, five, six,They could see darkened shapes of Mamma´s wearied back, of Papa carrying their sick younger brother in his arms. Behind the girls walked dear doctor Botkin, faithful vallet, funny cook and Anna, who once was making up their beds in airy rooms of Alexander palace. And down, down they went.
seven, eight, nine,Strange thoughts were coming through pale-faced Olga´s head. Memories of childhood, and laughter, and of wind high in the trees in Livadia, when all was bathing in the sunlight. For some reason she couldn´t think of future.
ten, eleven, twelve,Red glints were dancing in Tatiana´s auburn hair as she passed a dim light on the stairs. She clutched a jewel-filled pillow to her breasts, as slight alarm invaded her soul. She started to pray silently, to calm herself.
thirteen, fourteen, fifteen,Daydreaming as always Maria tripped slightly, but fortunatelly didn´t fall. She blushed and smiled to a soldier they were just passing, but for the first time of her life that smile was rewarded by a stone face and freezing silence. Only truck motor in the yard was singing its monotonous song. Maria suddenly felt cold.
sixteen, seventeen, eighteen,Anastasia blinked her sleepy eyes and unsuccessfully tried to hide a yawn. Her little dog was whinning softly, putting his wet nose to her warm neck. She grinned when she saw Maria before her trip, but in the next moment she did also.
nineteen, twenty, twenty-one,
twenty two, twenty three,They´ve never been the that cellar room before. It was empty and quiet. And then, then it was suddenly crowded. Outside the closed door only silence was heard for a moment.
Then mad music of gunshots.
And screams, that turned from surprised to terrified and agonizingly painful.
Then moaning and sobbing and gunshots again.
And deaf hits of bayonets.
And then – nothing.
Up the stairs they were dragged, limp forms, bloddied bodies.
And moon standing high in the sky poured his silver over pale faces, oh, such beautiful faces they were - even in death!
The Emperor, the Empress, the Tsarevich.
The four Grand Duchesses.
