Blood Red, Snow White Read Online Free Page B

whether he should go and join the soldiers fighting the Kaiser. His brother had already gone, and was somewhere fighting and killing, but Arthur was already in Russia, and had been given an important job, one that meant he didn’t have to fight.
    Instead, it was his job to report on the war to the people at home, and every day he would find out what he could about what the Tsar’s soldiers had been doing, and send a telegram to England, so that people could read about it in their newspapers over breakfast.
    But Arthur worried, and decided he needed to talk to a friend, a friend who lived in another city, a day’s train journey away.
    Nevertheless, he got on a train and went to visit his friend, whose name was Robert. They talked for a long and serious time about the war, and whether Arthur should fight, or whether he should stay and write about it. Arthur found himself wanting to write more fairy tales, but he didn’t say anything about that. Instead, he listened to Robert, who was also not a soldier, but had a job that meant he didn’t have to fight either. As Acting Consul-General he looked after the British people who lived in Russia, seeing that all their concerns were answered, and that they were safe. He explained to Arthur that some people had to do the sort of jobs that they did, and that it may as well be them as anyone else.
    After they had finished talking, Arthur still felt uneasy about it, and to try and cheer him up, Robert suggested they go out. That evening they went to a restaurant, a dining club called the Yar. It was a favorite of Robert’s, because it was a gypsy place, and Robert had a great fondness for gypsy songs and dances.
    The Yar was wild that night, as wild as ever.
    Arthur had never seen anything like it, not even in his young days when he met Ivy, but Robert seemed at ease, and that made Arthur relax, too. They had something to eat, and drank a bottle of wine. The restaurant had a large open space between the tables, and here the dancers would whirl and leap, athletic men in shiny black boots and lithe girls with olive skins. Around the sides of the room were cabinets. Small rooms hidden by thick red velvet curtains, where you could dine with a touch more privacy and a great deal more licentiousness. A dancer might be lured into one of these cabinets with the offer of some money, and not reappear for a very long time.
    Wine flowed and food was gobbled. Songs were hurled to the rafters, and then a rumor started to buzz around, spreading from one table to the next, whispered by waitresses with wide eyes and loose tongues.
    Rasputin was in the restaurant, having walked from one story into another.
    By now, his fame had spread far and wide. There were many, many stories about him, about the appalling things he was supposed to have done. He seemed, despite his hideous smell and frightful appearance, to exert some almost hypnotic power, especially over women. It was known that several ladies of the aristocracy had allowed themselves to be debased by him, and his drunkenness and lewdness knew no bounds. He was said to be a great lover, and it was even rumored that he was having an affair with the Tsarina herself.
    Arthur and Robert looked at each other with excitement as they heard the news. Neither of them had ever seen the man in the flesh, and they knew the stories, though there was one story that no one knew, no one outside the palace, that is. Rasputin’s miraculous healing of the Tsarevich had been kept secret, known only to the members of the court closest to the Tsar and Tsarina.
    A waitress leaned close to Robert and Arthur.
    “He’s in there,” she hissed, nodding at a curtain on the far side of the room, “with two men, and three…”
    Here she leaned even closer and whispered even more quietly.
    “… prostitutki.”
    There was a crash of glass and a series of loud shrieks from behind the curtain.
    Even the whores had had enough of the beast. The curtain flew open for a second