Free The Gypsy Witch by Roberta Kagan Page A

before offering me a plate of food.
After a filling dinner of chicken tabka with fried panisse and seared sweetbreads, taken from the dinner preparations, I lay down on a thick wool carpet of swirling bright colors. Surrounded by the wholesome smell of food and the warmth of the fire, my weary body eased. I watched the flames leap and dance and was transported to the night I had danced before the fire for Jan so long ago.
Heavy eyed, I allowed myself to drift into a deep slumber. Resting comfortably for the first time in several days, my sleep felt like a drunken stupor. I did not realize how long I had slept until I heard a gun shot that woke me abruptly. From the room that Grigori had entered, where the party had taken place, I heard three distinctive men's voices, one of them with a British accent. They shouted, more gun shots rang out, and I sat up looking around. A loud hammering echoed through the halls as if someone were tearing down the palace. Cries of pain trumpeted alerting of a terrible suffering. Curling into myself, I hid in a corner behind the cast iron stove and listened.
"He's still not dead. I shot him in the head, I've attacked him with this club and still he lives. Nothing seems to affect him"
"Beat him again."
"I have again and again; he is a bloody mess, yet he does not die."
"Grab the rug over there, If we wrap him in it he will be easier to transport. Then we can take him and throw him into the Neva River. It's freezing that will kill him. No one could survive that. Not even this bloody bastard."
"Watch out for him, he tried to take hold of me."
"How can that be? Together we've shot him four times and still he is fighting back and trying to get away. Any normal man would have died."
"Any other man would have died from all of the cyanide I put into that food and wine he ate. It was enough to kill five men."
"And still he lives."
From the strain in their voices, I knew they struggled to wrap him in the rug. From my hiding place, I watched as they dragged his body out. I knew instinctively that it was Rasputin they were trying to murder. I did not want the men to know I had been a witness, lest they decide it best to destroy any evidence. After all, I knew how beloved Grigori was by the royal family. So I peeked from behind the stove and waited. Then, once sure that everyone had gone, I followed in the shadows as they took him to the banks of the Neva River
Because Grigori had been such a large and imposing man, it took all three of them to hoist the body into the water. They waited for a few minutes to be sure their task was complete. But the bitter weather forced them to tighten their coats, and with the wind at their backs, they left.
Once they turned the corner and I could no longer see them, I knew it would be safe to come out.
Standing at the edge of the half frozen water, I watched Grigori struggle as he freed himself from the wrap. His eyes met mine.
"Help me, please Zigeuya , my one true love, help me."
"Your one true love, Grigori? You killed my one true love. I begged you, but you would not come and so I lost the only man who ever cared for me. You have a child, a daughter. He raised and cared for her as his own, more than you would ever have done."
"How can you say that? I love you I have always loved you."
"Grigori, you killed my one true love and now I will kill the only person you have ever loved....yourself."
"Please, be reasonable...help me, you will come to live in the palace, bring our child. I will take care of you . "  For one brief moment the old feelings tried to surface, but I pushed them down. Raising my hand and pointing my two fingers at him as the wind whipped my hair about my face in a wicked icy dance, I said, "I remove my protection from you now, Grigori Rasputin. You are no more than a mortal man."
Changed instantly by the reversal of the spell, he was now affected by the gun shots, poison and frozen water. The strength drained from his body and he