Authors: Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
Anastasi bowed slightly and said to his servants, “Bring spoons and plates to my guests,” for he knew that Poles did not carry their utensils with them and would not want to consume these rich stuffed breads with their fingers, as Rus would do.
The servants were aghast but went at once to obey.
“This is quite tempting,” said Father Pogner, the comers of his thin mouth turned down. “We thank God for your generosity.” “Omeen,” said Anastasi, crossing himself. He walked over to the stove as if to check its fuel, but in reality to provide the priests the illusion of privacy. As he bent down, he listened closely.
“It would be fitting to show King Istvan that Moscovy can be won to his cause against the Turk,” said Father Kovnovski tentatively, just above a whisper in the mistaken assumption that he would not be overheard. “He would approve our dealings with the Orthodox faith if—”
“We cannot decide for King Istvan,” said Father Pogner with habitual austerity. “But we will hear this man out. He has interested me, and I am willing to know more of his purpose. It may be that we can use his good opinion to our advantage, so that we will not have to depend on that Transylvanian traitor to gain our mission the ear of the Czar, or of Godunov.”
“He will want more than our thanks,” said Father Kovnovski with increasing apprehension. “We might compromise—”
“We are compromised already, because of Rakoczy,” said Father Pogner. “He has smirched the whole of this mission with his presence, and I will not continue to tolerate his high-handedness. It is fitting that we avail ourselves of any opportunity that will end the tyranny of Rakoczy.”
The servants returned with plates and utensils, which they offered at once to Father Pogner and Father Kovnovski, reverencing them deeply before they withdrew from the room.
Smiling, Anastasi strolled back toward the two priests, gratified that his endeavors had established such a promising beginning; it would not take much to turn this to an alliance that would be strong enough to shake the position of his high-ranking cousin Vasilli. And once Vasilli was put to rout, the downfall of Godunov was within his grasp. That marvelous prospect of advancement inspired Anastasi to make his most audacious suggestion of all.
“Since you do not want to continue in the patronage of Ra- koczy, perhaps you would be willing to consider mine?” He managed another European bow.
“What do you mean?” demanded Father Pogner, looking up from his selection of food to glare at Anastasi.
Anastasi’s blue eyes opened wide. “Why, only that it appears to me that you good Poles and I have similar goals and, in this corrupt world, might make better progress together than separately.”
Father Pogner pursed his lips. “It may be as you say.” he admitted after a judicious silence.
“If it is, we will serve our Church and our king while we assist you,” said Father Kovnovski as if trying to convince himself of the wisdom of this alliance.
“Then we are in agreement,” said Anastasi, and helped himself to one of the kulebyaki.
Excerpt from a report from the Captain of the English ship
Exeter
to Sir Jerome Horsey.
. ..
We will leave Novo-Kholmogory in three days, bound for London with a full load of furs, amber, rope, whale oil, and silk. We have laid in stores for the voyage, including thirty live geese and two pigs, the which to butcher in our passage.
The crew numbers thirty-one, including the two cooks and one ship’s barber. AU men have been declaredfit for the voyage, and aU. have been assured of increased shares for speedy arrival in London. All the sailors are English, but we have taken on a Norwegian sail-maker and a Dutch barber.
At the time
Exeter
prepares to depart, a German ship has arrived in port. The Captain has announced his intention to remain in this port for the winter and to sail at the spring thaw. I have had some conversation with Captain Hengel, and I must state to you, Sir Jerome, that I suspect this man of ill-intentions.
He has been cordial to me, but I have been informed that his men have been at pains to learn all that they mayfrom my crew, including where we have secured our cargo and what prices we have paid. It is my fear that this Captain Hengel intends to attempt to secure our contracts from the merchants we have dealt with, increasing the prices we must pay in order to continue to trade. I do not wish to have to sacrifice all our profits to the German merchants, and therefore I pass this warning to you.
I will return to the White Sea in May or June, depending on the weather, and at that time the
Exeter
will once again bring English cargo to Russia. During the winter, the English ship
Katherine Montmorency
will remain in this port, surrounded by rafts of cut logs, as is the Russian practice to keep the ships from being destroyed by winter’s ice. I have charged her Captain, Henry Percival, to maintain a steady watch on Captain Hengel and report to you as soon as the roads are passable. If there is any attempt on the part of Captain Hengel to interfere with English trade, you will know of it as soon as may be.
We urge you to arrangefor a wider commercefor us, increasing the cargoes we carry. I am not the only Captain eager to enlarge our trade in the world. If we cannot purchase more of Russian goods, we must look elsewhere for our wealth: to China and India and Africa, and even the New World . . .
Ferenc Rakoczy
Hrabia Saint-Germain
Ferenc Rakoczy
Hrabia Saint-Germain
T
JL
ext of a report from Yuri at the Polish embassy to Prince Vasilli Shuisky, written in Russian.
To the most powerful Prince, the devoted greetings of Yuri.
It is a curious thing and very much to your purpose that although these priests have employed me because I speak Polish and Latin, they often forget, and speak one of those languages, as they do in front of the rest of their staff in complete safety. I have been at pains to appear disinterested and only partially comprehending; they believe I am schooled in reading and writing, not in speaking, fools that they are. That is a mistake I would not have made at the Transylvanian’s house, had I realized how observant he is.
From the Feast of Advent through the Mass of the Nativity these priests have kept almost wholly to themselves. There have been only two visitors in the last three weeks that I am aware of: Rakoczy, as a part of the embassy, and Nicholas Bower, the servant of the English Ambassador, Lord Horsey. These two have passed several hours in the company of the priests, and have received their attention and various written material from them. The priests here have not been included in any of the celebrations or feasts within the Kremlin, and therefore have had no occasion for formal banquets or entertainments.
I was able to see the letter intended for Lord Horsey before it was given to Nicholas Bower, which was written in Latin. In it, Father Stanislaw Brodski and Father Aniol Tymon have out-
lined to lord Horsey when they expect to receive dispatches from Poland, and their planned schedule of dispatches to be sent in the spring, for it is acknowledged that the roads to the west clear more quickly than those to the north, and therefore it is possible that dispatches intended for the Queen of England could travel more quickly overland than by ship from the White Sea. Father Brodski and Father Tymon have offered to send sealed documents for the English Queen. I have not seen any report from the priests to tell whether or not Lord Horsey will act upon their offer. Rest assured that I will take every opportunity to learn what the English decision is, and to relay that information to you as quickly and safely as is possible.
The problem ofRakoczy is different, for he is still officially part of the mission, although only Father Milan Krabbe so regards him now. The rest of the priests have stated that they believe Rakoczy to have betrayed the trust of the Polish King because of his friendship with Boris Teodorovich. He is not discussed when the priests gather, except to be ratified by Father Pogner. Because of Father Pogner’s condemnation, aU the others have declared that they will permit him access to no part of the embassy without guards present and the approval of Father Pogner, which is not forthcoming, which even Father Krabbe approves in order to maintain peace within the embassy.
However, the last dispatch from King Istvan required the embassy to continue to inform Rakoczy of all communication from the King, and to include him in all decisions facing the mission. These orders have not been welcomed by Father Pogner, who has been as lax as he dares in executing them. He has done everything ordered by the King, but with as little effort as he can expend to accomplish it. Did not Rakoczy send his manservant, Rothger, to this embassy once a week, I believe that Father Pogner would hold all dispatches and letters from King Istvan in this building; Rakoczy has not allowed that to happen.
There have been several occasions when the priests here have left the embassy for reasons and tasks of their oum. They have gone to the Kremlin often, although not for the festivities of the Nativity, as I have already stated; but there are other places they visit. I know that Father Krabbe has called at the house of Rakoczy on at least two occasions, but I do not know what transpired there. He does not speak of those times, and I cannot follow him, for fear of discovery.
Father Pogner has been missing three times with Father Kov- novski. They have been gone for as long as half a day, and they do not discuss with the others where they have been, although it is supposed that they must have secret dealings with Godunov, for there is no other Rus they suppose would demand such activity from Father Pogner. The notes that Father Pogner keeps are in code and I have not been able to find the key to it. Father Kovnovski is very closed-mouthed about these absences, and Father Pogner never discusses any dealings he has with anyone at any time, although
/
have twice heard him forbid Father Lomza permission to go to the Kremlin alone.
Since the blizzard of two days ago, the priests here have not left this house for any reason. They are confined by the snow and by orders from the Czar that have instructed all foreigners save Rakoczy to remain in their houses until the streets are property cleared and the activities of the foreigners can be watched. If the Czar permits, the Feast of Epiphany is to be celebrated here with what they call High Mass and a feast without red meat, which the Germans will share, but not the English, who have cut their ties to Rome. Every one of the priests here has spent most of these last days in prayer and reading holy books, most of them in Latin, although a few are in Greek; there is nothing in them that speaks against the Czar or addresses the purposes of King Istvan.
I swear on the soul of my mother that this is the truth and that everything I have said here is accurately reported. I vow to continue to try to learn the code used by Father Pogner. I will notify you as soon as
/
learn where it is that Father Pogner and Father Kovnovski go when they venture out on their own errands.
By my own hand, Yuri
By the Polish calendar, January 4th, 1585.
1
Czar Feodor shoved the Cap of Kazan with one chubby hand and sent the fur-edged filigreed crown toppling from his head. All the Court stared, not one of the nobles willing to move or speak as the Cap came to rest near Feodor’s mace of office. Feodor smiled benignly and motioned to Boris Godunov. “My little brother Boris,” he called out in a pleasant, childishly high voice. “I’ve dropped the thing again. It itches.”
Boris, resplendent in his heavy golden kaftan embroidered all in red, bent down awkwardly, one hand holding his tall hat in place, the other reaching out for the glorious Cap of Kazan. He knelt and reverenced Czar Feodor as he offered die Cap to him, not changing his position. “Do you want the Metropolitan to be summoned to replace it, little Father?” That was what Czar Ivan would have done and all the court knew it.
“No,” said Feodor, and put the Cap on his thigh, letting it balance there. “It’s too heavy and I’m too hot.” He motioned to Boris. “Get up from the floor, Boris Feodorovich, do. I don’t like to see you all hunched over on your knees.”
This Court, the first one after the Nativity, was becoming disastrous, thought Boris as he got to his feet.
“What are you going to offer me? You said there was entertainment?” The anticipation in Feodor’s moon face was cheerful and demanding at once. One of his legs swung impatiently, his heel striking the ivory-and-jeweled tracery of the throne, leaving faint scuffs.
“Yes,” said Boris unhappily. “Yes, there are those wishing to present themselves to you. Foreigners, Little Father, whom you have already commanded to appear before you.” He reverenced Czar Feodor again, but not from his knees, then hurried out of the splendor of the enormous, golden Reception Hall.
Rakoczy was among the half-dozen dignitaries waiting for presentation to Czar Feodor, and Boris was relieved to see him. He approached the black-and-silver clad Transylvanian, saying in Greek, “A jewel will not hold his attention long, I fear, but he requires some distraction.”