was he? You poured all your attention on to Nikolai, and kept nothing in reserve. Aleksandr was thrust into the role, quite unprepared, at the age of just twenty.’
‘There’s been time since for him to learn.’
‘Zmyeevich had already made his offer.’
‘You’re lying.’ The tsar spoke wearily.
‘Tell me’ – Iuda was enjoying his opponent’s humiliation, though he knew he mustn’t overplay it – ‘when did your uncle, Aleksandr I, die?’
‘You know perfectly well: 19 November 1825.’
‘You don’t have to keep up the pretence. Your family may have fooled me then, but not for long. I don’t know what name he took, but I know for certain that Aleksandr was still alive when you ascended the throne. Now when did he die?’ For all his confidence, Iuda was genuinely curious. He had never discovered the full truth of Aleksandr and Lyosha’s trickery.
‘1864. 20 January.’ The tsar’s fingers massaged his brow.
‘And in scarcely a year your son Nikolai was dead. Zmyeevich may plan for the long term, but he acts quickly.’
‘You’re saying Sasha was privy to this?’
‘Not at all. He loved his brother – you know that better than I. Zmyeevich would play things subtly in making his offer.’
‘Why turn on my son? Why not deal with me?’
‘You’ve already answered that; because you’d refuse.’
‘So will my son.’ It sounded more a hope than an expectation.
‘I can ensure that the question need never be asked.’
Silence filled the room. The tsar remained in his chair, his eyes fixed on Iuda, considering all he had said. Iuda had spun a good story, but he was not certain of any of it. But it was what he himself would have done in Zmyeevich’s shoes, and that made it likely to be true. He’d long ago heard rumours of Aleksandr Aleksandrovich’s acquiescence and now Aleksandr Nikolayevich knew of it too.
‘What can you do?’ the tsar asked.
Iuda smiled. He scented victory. The Romanovs would pay well for their salvation. They would give Iuda the protection he needed. And Zmyeevich would know once and for all that he was bested.
‘You’re aware, I take it, that Zmyeevich can only exercise his sympathetic influence on the Romanov bloodline once in each generation?’
‘That’s what I’ve been assured. That is why Aleksandr Pavlovich’s feigned death trounced you so thoroughly. It kept his brother safe as tsar.’
Iuda did not relish being reminded of how he had been tricked, but he let it pass.
‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘That is why Zmyeevich must be careful. He could not attempt to influence each of your sons in turn until he found one who would comply. The first failure would be a failure for all. We can exploit that.’
‘I will not sacrifice one of my sons to save another.’ The tsar had cottoned on quickly.
‘To save your entire dynasty?’ Iuda asked.
Aleksandr shook his head.
Iuda had expected as much; he was prepared. ‘What, might I ask, is Your Majesty’s opinion on the sanctity of marriage?’
The tsar shuffled in his seat. His infidelities to his wife were well known.
‘Nature, I assure you,’ Iuda continued, ‘is quite indifferent to the institution.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning that what applies to your legitimate heir would equally apply to a bastard child. They all carry Romanov blood.’
‘I love all my children.’ Aleksandr thought a moment before adding, ‘And I have no bastards.’
Iuda laughed out loud. ‘Oh, come on! What about all those kiddies that have sprung from the Dolgorukova girl?’
For the first time in their conversation, the tsar lost control of himself. He stood and strode towards Iuda, but regained his composure before speaking. Iuda decided it would be better not to goad him too much.
‘Princess Yurievskaya, as she is now titled, and I were married last July,’ he explained. ‘In secret.’
‘I apologize; I hadn’t heard. I’ve been rather out of touch.’ Iuda was genuinely ignorant, though there was much more that he could have said, not least to comment on the indecent haste with which they had wed – Aleksandr’s first wife, Maria Aleksandrovna, had died only in June. He might also have mentioned that it was common knowledge that there were other children by other mistresses. He couldn’t legitimize them all.
But Iuda held his tongue. The suggestion that the tsar should sacrifice one of his own children was not Iuda’s main thrust. He had suggested it merely to guide Aleksandr to the correct conclusion, to make that conclusion more palatable by comparison. Now he made things explicit.
‘The child in question need only be of the same generation as Aleksandr Aleksandrovich,’ he explained. ‘They do not have to be