The Romanov Prophecy Page 0,114

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 thestaretsonce 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