Russka - Edward Rutherfurd [237]
‘Perhaps,’ Elena answered reluctantly.
‘Then,’ she pursued, ‘didn’t he ever come to see her again? Didn’t he even want to see me?’
At first, it seemed to Arina that her grandmother had not even heard the question, because for a time she did not even deign to reply. Then at last she answered.
‘No.’
Arina said nothing. She would not raise the subject again. Clearly, neither of her parents had loved her. She supposed that, for some reason, she did not deserve it.
It did not occur to her that the real reason why Elena had paused before she replied, was that she had told a lie.
1654
There were, by the year 1654, three Russias. The first, Great Russia, was the Muscovy of the Tsars. The second was the newly added Ukraine which the Muscovites chose to call Little Russia. The third was the broad band of territory, about two hundred miles across, that lay on the west side of the great R of Russian rivers – more precisely the lands west of the ancient city of Smolensk and which extended to the marshes of Poland. Once ruled by the ancient princes of Rus, they had long since fallen into Polish hands. This western, Russian-Polish territory the Muscovites called White Russia.
And it was from White Russia, in 1654, that Andrei was returning that late summer’s day.
It had been a strange year for the young Cossack. Bogdan and his council, after mistrustful negotiations, had finally joined the Ukraine to Muscovy with an agreement which gave them huge estates. The simple peasants of the Ukraine, needless to say, got nothing.
In March, Andrei had returned to Moscow and attended the marriage of Nikita Bobrov to an heiress. And it was then that the Russian did his Cossack friend a great favour: he arranged for Andrei to join him when the Muscovite army went on campaign against the Poles.
The war with Poland – which the Tsar’s annexation of the Ukraine had made inevitable – was part of a greater and longer process. The foreign officers Andrei noticed in Moscow were part of this general preparation. For this new war with Poland was really little more than an excuse for Russia to strike a still greater blow. As Nikita gleefully told his friend: ‘We’re going to attack White Russia.’
The campaign was successful. In the south, the Cossacks of the Ukraine struck across the Dniepr; further north, the Russian army advanced westward from Moscow to the ancient city of Smolensk.
Before it was over, Andrei had twice been addressed personally by the fair, blue-eyed Tsar; and when they returned to Moscow he was informed that Alexis had granted him a new estate as well.
Andrei and his friend did not return to Moscow until July.
Nikita had asked Andrei to remain in the capital in the new and much larger house which he and his wife now occupied, but on their return to the capital they learned that an outbreak of plague had begun. At first they hoped that it would die down; after a few days, however, Nikita came home with grim news. ‘The rumour is that they’re going to seal the royal family’s apartments in the Kremlin. The Tsaritsa and her household are leaving the city. I should get out, Andrei. Go and enjoy your new estate in Little Russia.’
Andrei had taken his advice. And so it was that late in July he had left the city to return home.
He decided to go by way of Russka.
He had not been able to discover anything about the fate of Maryushka. Nikita, who had not been near the estate for a year, had an idea that the steward’s young wife might have had a child, but he was not sure. So it was with some curiosity that he rode out eastward towards Vladimir and then turned south.
He was in a strange mood. Things had gone very well for him. He was becoming rich. Yet his friend’s marriage, and a few close brushes with death on campaign, had