"He hasn't said anything that makes me think so, but I don't often hear him talk." Saari lowered his eyes. "But they are acquainted, and you wanted to know if they had any contact."
Saint-Germain smiled slightly. "Perhaps one evening, I will join von Altenburg's gaming tables. He has invited me to do so, upon occasion."
"Will you speak to Ksiaze Radom?"
"I doubt it would be wise; at least, not yet." Saint-Germain took three gold coins from the small purse that hung inside his cloak and handed them to Yrjo. "Thank you for this information. I think it is likely to prove useful in time. If you notice that the two men have met again, send me word of it."
"I will be at the corner most of tomorrow, seeing who comes to the care-house, and I'll report to you by evening if I've found anyone suspicious watching," he said with fixed determination.
But Saint-Germain shook his head. "For the time being, I would prefer you watch the Ksiezna and the Ksiaze, to keep them safe."
"Why? You are the one who has employed me, not they."
"Just at present," said Saint-Germain, "my fortunes here are tied to theirs. I have to know what befalls them, and I must rely upon you to keep me informed, since I am living here, not at the Ksiezna's house." There was something in his eyes that commanded Saari's acquiescence.
"All right," said Saari uncertainly. "I'll watch them."
"Thank you," Saint-Germain said again. "If you have something to report, tell Hroger when he comes to speak with Gronigen for his daily report on the horses. You two occupy the room in the stable, and you may talk with him and not attract undue attention."
"I will. But if what I learn is urgent, I'll come here directly." He folded his arms to demonstrate his commitment.
"Do not worry," said Saint-Germain. "For now I am protected. The care-house is watched by the Guard. The Czar has ordered it."
"The Guard may have such orders, but they don't know how to perform the work they're assigned. They drink too much, and they don't bother to patrol the side-streets, especially if they think there could be danger." Saari's indignation caused him to raise his voice; as soon as he realized what he had done, he went quiet.
Saint-Germain regarded him steadily. "For now, we must depend upon the Guard, and hope for the best from them. As long as the Czar is here in Sankt Piterburkh, we must live as he wills. The Guard may be lax, but they will attend to their duties until Piotyr Alexeievich returns to his Swedish war."
Saari ducked his head. "As you wish." With that, he took two steps backward and was lost in the thickening mists that rose from the half-frozen marsh.
Text of a letter from Klaus Demetrius Krems, confidential secretary to the former King Augustus II of Poland, to Ferenz Ragoczy, Grofok Saint-Germain, in his capacity as the substitute for Arpad Arco-Tolvay,
Hercegek Gyor, at Sankt Piterburkh, written in code at Madeburg, sent by courier, and delivered nine weeks after it was written.
To the noble Ferenz Ragoczy, Grofok Saint-Germain, the greetings of Klaus Demetrius Krems on the order of Frederick Augustus, formerly Augustus II of Poland.
My dear Grofok,
As
you have probably discovered for yourself, matters in Poland and among the German States have changed in the last few months, circumstances that have brought your particular mission to a difficult pass. You have been a most valuable source of information during your stay in the Czar's new city, and it is Royal Augustus' wish that I commend you for all you have done to serve what had been our interests there. But you are doubtless aware that with new developments must come new solutions, and it is for that reason that I am charged with asking one last effort from you: that you will mark the progress of dredging and building so that we will have an estimate when the Russians will be able to deal with a full-sized fleet of merchant vessels, and the degree of naval presence the Czar is planning for Sankt Piterburkh. There are rumors that he will have an Admiralty there in two years, but no one here is inclined to give such an ambitious plan much credence. Your information will be essential in the decisions we make here for the next five years.
Difficult as it may be, I must ask you to discuss nothing of this with Zozia, Ksiezna Nisko, for her continued loyalty to Poland could prove to be at cross-purposes to our own. Your alliances are not nearly as clearly defined as hers must be, so I must tell you that your services will be subject to scrutiny that they have not received in the past. For that reason, I request that you provide as much secondary information that can be used to support your observations as is practicable. This imposition is being made in order to ensure that all those making evaluations may be given the kind of weight their intelligence deserves.
We are also interested in ascertaining the number of foreigners presently residing in the Foreign Quarter, and their various stations
and degrees. We know the Czar has encouraged more diplomatic interchanges with Europe, England, and Scandinavia, but we have little information on who has been posted there, in what numbers, and in what capacity, and if these numbers have been reduced for the winter, or kept in place.
Royal Augustus wishes me to assure you that he will extend his thanks to you when you have ended your mission, and that you will find him most appreciative of your service. He also wishes me to inform you that your imposture has remained intact as far as this Court is concerned. We have no information from the Poles regarding anything the Ksiezna may have revealed. You are urged to remain on your guard, especially now that the War of the Spanish Succession appears to be lasting longer than was first thought to be likely. The name Ferenc II Rakoczi has become better-known throughout Europe in the last six months, in ways that would not all be advantageous to you. Therefore, let me urge you to keep up your masquerade as Arpad Arco-Tolvay as long as you are able to, for your own safety and the safety of the Ksiezna.
The courier who brings this will carry back the messages you entrust to him, and will move them as rapidly as the weather permits. He will, of course, contribute his own observations to his account of his journey. You are asked to house and feed him for as long as he remains in Sankt Piterburkh, and to stable his horses. May God guard and keep you.
Your faithful servant,
Klaus Demetrius Krems
private and confidential secretary to
Frederick Augustus, formerly Augustus II, King of Poland
October 23rd, 1704
3
"If only we had a little time to be alone, so that you could ... ah... amuse me," Zozia exclaimed with an arch look at Saint-Germain as she touched the soft line of her collar-bone. "My brother can be most inconvenient at times; never more so than now." She tossed her head provocatively. "It's been much too long since you and I had time to ourselves. I've missed all the delightful things you know how to do to me."
"Since Benedykt is aware of my dissimulation, you need to be careful not to compromise yourself in that regard with him." Saint-Germain made a gesture of commiseration. "Not that it would not be very pleasant to pass time together, you and I."
"He is forever telling me that Arpad will arrive here in the spring and denounce me as an adulteress--not that he ever did before," she said, turning sulky. "You would think that my brother wants to ruin my work here, the way he behaves, as well as all you and I have done for Poland--he's worse than a jealous suitor with his interfering."
"What has he done now?" Saint-Germain asked.
"Invited that Ragoczi person to the salon."
Saint-Germain thought this over. "It need not go badly because of that."
Her eyes brightened. "No, it won't. I will not allow it."
"But you think he did it deliberately, to slight you."
"Yes. It is all of a piece with him. He doesn't like to be eclipsed by anyone, least of all his sister, so he seeks ways to sabotage and undermine my efforts, in particular, this salon." She sighed, and straightened herself. "I try to keep in mind that the salon is only a part of what I have achieved, and, in spite of Benedykt, it has the approval of the Czar."
"And with your salon this afternoon, I should imagine you have little time for anything beyond your preparations," Saint-Germain
said with a gallant bow. It was approaching mid-day and he noticed that half of the household staff had already left for the English Residence.
"All the more reason to dally when there's opportunity," she said, studying his dark clothing. "You aren't going to wear black to the salon, are you? You look like a Court priest."
"If it would displease you, of course not," he said.
"It would displease the Czar, and that could redound to my discredit," she said, pursing her lips in distaste. "Wear something elegant--the dull-blue velvet with the silver waistcoat would be a good choice, or the spruce-blue satin with the damask waistcoat and the new wig you had sent from Prague, with the clusters of curls around the face--and when you're there, don't go on and on about the care-house. This is the wrong occasion for that kind of conversation, and I know you have the manners to make yourself good company. We must build up our goodwill with Piotyr and the Europeans, which demands we tread a fine line."
"You have a mission, and I will do what I can to aid you to fulfill it," said Saint-Germain with a touch of sympathy, for it was apparent that this salon had taken on significance that was more than Zozia had anticipated at the start.
"Thank you," she said, a bit more curtly than she intended. "You're right--time is short. I should prepare to receive my guests, not you."
"Alas," he said.
"Still, if we
had
time ..." She had put on her stays and her petticoats, and stood, half-dressed, on her side of the divided bedroom, the pallid sunlight from the single window touching her pale hair and the froth of ruched lace on her petticoats with a soft glow, suffusing her skin, pale as a wax candle, with the same lambency as her lace. "But I would have to get out of my under-clothes, and that would mean bathing and dressing again afterwards. Besides, Salomea is probably listening. I know Benedykt would be if he were about; he has gone to supervise bringing in the wine for the salon."
"Then all the more reason for us to be discreet," he said.
"Can't we be alone?" she asked wistfully.
"Hardly anyone is ever truly alone in Sankt Piterburkh, no matter where they go; everyone watches everyone else, and the servants watch the whole. All the city is filled with spies of one sort or another. And since that is the case ..." In concession to that, he held the music he had brought with him in his left hand. "You asked to review what I have on hand for clavichord. This is my current collection of airs, anthems, and dances."
She took the sheets and flipped through them. "English--good. Italian--good, especially the Venetian. French--fashionable. Prussian--good. Bohemian--good. Hessian--good. Luxembourgois--unexceptional. Spanish--I think not. Austrian--awkward, considering the situation there. Swiss--good enough. Dutch--very good." She raised her eyes to his. "Why have you nothing Polish in these sheets?"
"I assumed you would have made choices of your own." He saw his remark had stung her in a way he had not anticipated. "Had you told me you would rather I select--"
"Very well, find a polonaise and a czardas: Poland and Hungary will be represented," she said, cutting him off. "Is there anything you can do along those lines?"
"I know some dances, but I would have to play them from memory," he said, trying to read her intentions in her choices. "If that would please you, I would be glad to do it."
"Would the music sound ... less artistic than what you have here? If you play a piece poorly from memory, it would be better that you not play at all." She pressed her lips together, revealing her nervousness.
"No, Zozia, it would not," he said quietly.
"It will have to do," she said, her eyes narrowing. "The consort we have engaged will have some Polish works to perform, and one of the singers has a Polish song in his repertoire. Were it not that you and I have a shared purpose, I wouldn't be concerned about what you play, but I trust you understand?"
"Yes, I do, Zozia," he said, knowing her masterly airs were borne of the demands she felt were being made of her. "And I will play a
czardas as part of my contribution to the evening. As I am Hungarian, many would think it odd if I did not include at least one piece from home, especially if Lajos Rakoczi is going to attend. He will expect a Hungarian song or two, and will remark on their absence. The assembly would expect me to play that kind of piece from memory."
She heard him out and shrugged dismissively. "Oh, all right. Abigail Carruther won't object, and who knows what the Czar may decide?"
"I will speak with him in advance, if you like," Saint-Germain offered. "When I come to tune the clavichord, I can discuss my choices with Colonel Broughton, to discover if he can find anything wrong with my repertoire."
"Broughton listens to you more than he does to most of us," said Zozia, a note of resignation in her observation. "All right. I'll arrange it. Keep in mind that the Resident has decided to take a secondary role in all this, to keep from any potential cross-purposes being served--they will be, of course, but he is officially not to know of it--so that he and England will not be embarrassed. He will not take kindly to someone deliberately affronting any of the guests. He's warned both Missus Carruther and me of his views."
"That is very kind of him," said Saint-Germain, a tinge of irony in his voice.
"It is, since the salon is happening under his roof and his indulgence." She shot him a hard look, as if to satisfy herself that he was sincere; she took a step back, saying, "There will be thirteen more women with us tonight than there were at the reception last summer. Everyone will be pleased."
