Free Great Catherine by 1943- Carolly Erickson

one of several accused conspirators who had been found guilty of conducting an intrigue with the Austrian ambassador. She was sentenced to execution, along with her husband, yet the empress, ever squeamish when it came to taking life, gave other orders.
    The courtiers joined a large crowd assembled in an open square where a broad wooden platform had been erected in the snow. It was very cold, a sea of fur hats and coats stretch away on all sides of the scaffold. Thousands of ordinary citizens looking forward to a spectacle thronged the edges of the open space and waited patiently for the solemnities to begin. Presently the count and countess, their hands tied, were dragged onto the platform by muscular guards, the countess struggling violently, appearing almost demented. Her clothes were torn, she tossed her head, screaming in fear. She had believed until moments earlier that she would be decapitated—now she was told that her life would be

    spared, she would be tortured instead. With her was the wife of the chancellor's brother Michael Bestuzhev, her closest friend and, in the judgment of her accusers, her fellow-conspirator.
    One by one the victims faced their punishment. Count Lopukhin was tied to a rack, his wrists and ankles secured with strong ropes, and then the rack was slowly stretched until all his bones cracked and broke, while his sobbing, writhing wife stood nearby, in the grip of her captors. When her turn came she was forced to kneel and submit to repeated blows with a thick wooden stick. Gasping and crying for mercy, she endured only a few clouts before she fainted, her back a mass of welts and bruises. When the beating was finished the executioner seized the countess by her hair and reached into her mouth to cut out her tongue. Blood flowed from her mouth. The spectators, having savored every frisson of horror, and satisfied that the traitors had gotten what they deserved, shouted their approval.
    The work of barbarity was over. No one noticed that, in the last moment of her friend's suffering, Madame Bestuzhev managed to drop a costly diamond cross into the executioner's hand. He gave no sign, but later, when the criminals were on their way to exile in Siberia, Countess Lopukhin discovered that she could still talk.

    Chapter Five
    >»o«»
    IN THE WOMBLIKE DIMNESS OF THE PALACE CHAPEL, WHERE thousands of flickering candles cast a pale light on the gleaming mosaics and paintings on every wall and pillar, Sophie knelt to repeat her confession of faith. She was quite overawed by the dozens of golden chandeliers, the tall candlesticks, the precious icons in their jewel-studded frames and the wealth of decoration that seemed to cover every colorful surface. Her senses all but overpowered by the acrid odor of incense, the resonant music of the choir that vibrated and echoed in the vast sanctuary, the kaleidoscope of vivid hues and flashing gold, she seemed to drowse as she knelt, swaying slightly as her knees sank into the soft silken cushion.
    She had been fasting for three days in preparation for the ritual to come, cleansing herself before offering her confession of faith. She felt dizzy and faint, yet her mind was keen enough to recall the Russian words she had painstakingly memorized, parrot-fashion, with the coaching of her Russian teacher Vasily Adadu-rov. Learning by rote was a skill she had mastered as a young child, when Pastor Wagner had hounded and threatened her and she had spent hours hunched over her German Bible.
    The confession of faith she had memorized for this day had been written for her by Simon Todorsky. He had had it translated

    into German so that she would know what she was saying, yet she had to repeat it in Russian at this ceremony of confirmation, along with the Orthodox version of the Nicene Creed. In all, she had memorized some fifty handwritten pages of Russian, and she hoped that she would be able to repeat the words with conviction if not with understanding.
    The empress had