36
Nicholas’ cabin aboard the Laskar was elegant. Without the round port window, it would have passed for a mansion’s fine drawing room. But many of the expensive-looking furnishings looked of a different style than the equally expensive upholstery and finishing, and the room felt strangely unbalanced. Nicholas had probably brought in items originally on his flagship—like a child who brings all his precious toys with him when he runs away from home, Sherlock observed.
The detective stood in the middle of the sumptuous room, with a blanket draped over his sodden self. But he did not feel particularly cold. Nicholas sat on the sofa, his face buried in his hands.
No one else was present. Ito and Kanevsky waited above deck. Nicholas wished to hear what had occurred from Sherlock alone.
Sherlock had already finished his debriefing. Nicholas had been lost in silence for some time.
“Your Highness,” Sherlock said quietly. “As I explained, Soslan Chekhov and Anna Luzhkova were members of the Okhrana before they ever joined the Ministry of State Property. Although His Majesty the Emperor ordered them to spy on you, they were also conspiring to circumvent his plans.”
Nicholas gave a listless groan. “I can’t believe it. Father was right all along about the Japanese. But the behavior of those two was outrageous. They tried to kill me!”
Sherlock paused in fury. “I see you still do not understand. It is absurd to say that your father’s actions were correct.”
“George was a victim of rioting savages, of the Japanese and their beloved joui.”
“Akhatov and Denikin were the ones who manipulated Sanzo Tsuda into attacking.”
“But it was Tsuda who actually attacked,” Nicholas snapped pettishly. “He had cruel and barbaric impulses. He was motivated by his naked hatred of the Russian Empire.”
“He was mentally ill.”
“As are all Japanese, then. On the surface they smile and act politely, but deep down they are violent savages, no different from monkeys.”
“Your Highness,” Sherlock said cuttingly, “look out that window. A great number of Japanese have congregated on the waters, officials and commoners alike, to rescue your Russian sailors.”
“They are only feigning submission to us, as we are a greater power, until they become advanced enough to strike. Once their military and economy might grows stronger, their true natures will be revealed.”
“You are next in line to become emperor. Such prejudices will serve you ill.”
“Hardly prejudices. When I become emperor I will be hard on the Japanese. It was Father’s true intention all along.”
“You plan to go to war with Japan?”
“I doubt it shall ever come to that. China will crush a small country like Japan.”
“You are mistaken,” Sherlock said briskly. “From what I have seen so far, if Japan and China were to go to war I expect Japan to win. And not only over China. If you are to become emperor, I imagine they should crush Russia as well.”
Nicholas jumped to his feet in a temper. “You insolent Brit!”
“I urge you to remember, you only stomp and rage in this manner now because Chairman Ito and I risked our own lives to save yours. By all rights you should be lying senseless at the bottom of Tokyo Bay, Your Highness.”
“And if I was, Father would have sent the entire army to Japan’s shores. I only wish I was dead.”
Sherlock snorted. “Do you truly mean that?”
Nicholas glared angrily at him. But Sherlock was unfazed, and met his eyes. After a few moments, the Tsarevich blinked. He lowered his eyes, seemingly less confident than before. He sat down again upon the sofa.
“If the Okhrana have started a rebellion,” Nicholas mused absently, “my father will be hard-pressed to suppress it. There will be civil war in Russia.”
Sherlock shook his head. “It won’t get that far, Your Highness. If the revolutionaries expand their influence, it would be a threat to the court. Right now the Okhrana keep them in check. The moment your father attempts to purge the secret police, the empire would be capsized. Though he knows the Okhrana work with revolutionaries in secret, he can do nothing to stop them. The Romanovs’ influence is waning.”
“What would you know?”
“You don’t believe me? Let me ask you a question. How many of the Russian people would stand up in your defense? Forget the citizens. How many of the soldiers? When you fled the Laskar in your lifeboat, not one of the sailors in the water had any idea which way you had gone.”
“Those were unusual circumstances. This would never have happened on the Pamiat Azova.”
“Because your father looks after you and has ordered those men to protect you. But would anyone follow you, without your father? Yet the Japanese people believed it was you who had been attacked, rather than Grand Duke George. They sent letters of concern and prayed for your well-being.”
“They knew they would be crushed if a war broke out.”
“And what of Russia? Did your own people show any of the same concern?”
“By the time I returned home,” Nicholas said despondently, “my safety had already been widely reported. As far as the people of Russia were concerned, my injuries were only minor.”
“The Japanese people continued to express concern even after seeing those same reports. Shall I tell you why? They respect their Emperor. It seems only natural to them to show that same respect to the royal family of another country.”
“Are you implying that the Russian people don’t respect the royal family?”
“The Japanese royal family has existed in harmony with its people for 1,500 years. Even now, the Emperor places trust in Chairman Ito and the other members of his cabinet. But what of the Romanovs? Your family rarely interact with the common people. The citizens are attached to the land, and title in Russia is synonymous with authority. Only those with title may rule. The only relationship is one between the ruling and subjugated classes.”
“Father has a close relationship with the government and military.”
“Perhaps, but he is unconcerned with the peasants. It is no wonder that the revolutionaries grow in influence.”
“No. Father is not mistaken.”
“If you do not reexamine these beliefs of yours, the Romanov line will surely end with you.”
A tense smile strained the corners of Nicholas’ lips. His eyes flashed with anger. “I may become Emperor, and I may lose to Japan, and the royal line may fall. But don’t forget, Sherlock Holmes, that we are currently aboard my warship, of the Imperial Russian Navy.”
“Is that a threat? You mean to suggest that I won’t be allowed to leave alive. If you ordered the sailors aboard this ship to kill me, do you believe they would even listen?”
“This is the kind of impertinence one expects from an Englishman. But not even Britain is safe from Russia’s might.”
“Have you forgotten the Ottoman Empire?”
Nicholas jumped to his feet again. “Who cares about the Ottoman Empire?! It is Japan I won’t forgive. And if Britain sides with Japan then they are just as guilty!”
“Guilty of what?”
“Of what they did to George!” The young man’s eyes suddenly welled up with tears. “My brother is in a coma. He is at death’s door…”
Nicholas broke off mid-sentence. Sherlock looked at Nicholas quietly. The Tsarevich stroked his face forlornly.
“Your Highness,” Sherlock whispered. “In the end this was all about your brother, wasn’t it?”
“Don’t you have a brother? No one else was born to the same parents, no one else understands me, but George. He is my other self. No one is as thoughtful or full of care for others as he is. Anyone who could attack someone as innocent as George must be dealt the retribution they deserve. It is my duty as an older brother.”