Russka - Edward Rutherfurd [64]
That day, therefore, as he considered the situation with Sviatopolk, he finally concluded: What use is my good fortune to me if it only creates hatred in my family? I’d sooner be without. So I think, he had decided, that I should give up my inheritance. Let Sviatopolk have it. God will provide. And satisfied that this was the only sensible thing to do, he was about to move across the market.
It was just then that he felt a tug at his sleeve, and to his surprise saw a sturdy peasant grinning beside him.
‘Why, you’re the fellow I gave the money to,’ he smiled.
‘That’s right,’ Shchek replied cheerfully. ‘And, if I may ask, what are you so down in the mouth about, my lord?’
Shchek had reason to be content. Not only had he regained his freedom but, thanks to his secret treasure house, he expected to put some money in his pocket too. He was glad to see the strange young man again, if only to thank him. And since there was already a bond between them, and he had no one else to talk to, Ivanushka told him the whole story.
What a good fellow this noble is, Shchek thought as he listened. He has a warm heart. And besides, he reminded himself, as he heard the final details, I owe him my liberty after all.
So when Ivanushka had finished, the sturdy peasant saw what he should do.
‘Don’t give up everything, lord,’ he advised. ‘Your father, however, possesses the Russka estate, which is poor. But I think I know a way to make it rich. If you want to, give up the share he proposed then ask your father for only the village of Russka – together with the wood to the north of it,’ he added.
Ivanushka nodded. He liked Russka. It didn’t seem a bad idea.
When, that very evening, Sviatopolk heard what Ivanushka had to say to himself and his father, he could hardly believe his ears.
‘Russka?’ Igor said. ‘You want only the income from that miserable little village? How will you live?’
‘I’ll manage,’ Ivanushka said cheerfully.
‘As you wish,’ Igor sighed. ‘God knows what is to be done with you.’
Praise the Lord, Sviatopolk thought. My brother is a fool.
And with a tender smile, he went forward and kissed Ivanushka on the cheek.
It was two days after this that Ivanushka astonished his father with a bold request.
‘Go to Prince Vladimir, Father, and ask on my behalf for the hand of the Saxon girl, his wife’s handmaiden. He is her guardian.’
Igor stared at him. What could he say? The boy had renounced most of his income and he knew very well that young Monomakh, who took a fatherly interest in this Saxon girl, would hardly give her to a poor man. But even if it were not for that … ‘My poor boy,’ he replied sadly, ‘don’t you know that Sviatopolk asked for her himself yesterday?’
Ivanushka’s face fell. Then he looked thoughtful.
‘Ask all the same,’ he said finally.
‘Very well,’ Igor replied. But after Ivanushka had gone, he sighed to himself, ‘I’m afraid there’s no denying it: the boy’s a fool.’
The reply from Monomakh was given within two days. As usual, it was both kind and sensible.
‘The girl will be betrothed at Christmas. She may choose herself, at that time, from amongst any suitors I approve. I hereby approve both the sons of my father’s loyal boyar, Igor. However,’ the prince had very properly added, ‘any suitor who cannot come forward with proof that he is free of debts, and has an income of thirty silver grivnas a year, will be disqualified.’
Sviatopolk smiled when he heard it. His income was over fifty grivnas: Ivanushka’s could not possibly be more than twenty.
Ivanushka said nothing.
It was two days later that Ivanushka, its new lord, rode into the village of Russka.
Spring was everywhere in the air. There was a warm glow coming from the ground. The cherry blossom was already making a first, shy appearance and as he rode towards the river crossing, he heard his first bee.
As it happened, Shchek had gone downriver that day, so Ivanushka ordered the elder to give him a thorough tour of the village. The main income he could expect came from the taxes