The Ringed Castle - Dorothy Dunnett [112]
‘He might,’ said Robert Best unexpectedly. ‘If the matter hadn’t already been disposed of at the Troitsa Monastery.’
There was a brief silence while they stared at one another, recalling a provoking interrogation by the Voevoda Bolshoia, in the presence of Master Grigorjeff, who spoke more English than was apparent. Robert Best added, ‘So they know the limitations of your powers fairly well. The question remains, as Diccon says, why is he pleasing us at the risk of offending the Emperor Charles? And I think I know who has the answer. Master Francis Crawford, the Voevoda Bolshoia.’
‘Taking our part with the Tsar?’ said Killingworth with vast scorn and drained off his vodka and spat. ‘There goes a subtle, dissembling fox, who would barter his kin for a township.’
‘No,’ said Diccon Chancellor. ‘I think I understand Rob. There goes a gentleman of doubtful attractions who is providing the Tsar with an army. We might question its quality but the Tsar may have no qualms.’
‘Then he’s a fool,’ Killingworth said. ‘Does he think one pack of vainglorious mercenaries will hold back Poland and Lithuania? I’d like to see them in action.’
‘So should I,’ said Chancellor thoughtfully.
Francis Crawford reached the same conclusion, on hearing Fergie Hoddim’s report on the petition the Muscovy Company had been allowed to present to the Tsar.
‘… complete freedom of trade, and special jurisdiction for all English settled in Russia. The English to decide their own quarrels, and the Tsar to settle all litiginous cases between subjects of England and Russia. A market twice yearly at Kholmogory, prices to be optional. Freedom from tolls——’
‘What?’ said Lymond.
‘And he’s offered them a wax monopoly,’ Fergie said, eyes shining with legal mysticism. ‘Proxime et immediate sequens. And ye ken what the tolls are. A tenth of a dengi on all Turkish and Armenian imports. Two dengi a rouble on all goods weighed at the Emperor’s beam. Toll-bars. River-dues. Storage-dues. Dues on the written contract if you sell an old nag. Dues on every God’s pound of salt.… They send out fifty thousand pounds of wax a year, they reckon,’ said Fergie. ‘And they can get four pounds the hundred for it in England.’
‘Maybe the Tsar will ask four pounds the hundred pounds for it in Russia,’ said Lymond.
‘No. It’s fixed. Two pounds seventeen shillings and sixpence,’ said Fergie with triumph.
The Voevoda’s chilly blue eyes were open in thought. ‘And what favours did the Tsar ask in return?’
‘None,’ said Fergie. ‘Or none so far. Ye ken Viscovatu. He can eat without opening his mouth.’
‘Then I think,’ said Lymond, ‘we had better have a show of strength. Tell Plummer to stop mourning over St Basil’s and do something about the weather. There must be a use for engineers in the cosmos somewhere. Meanwhile, until the snow comes, we had better keep Master Chancellor and his party entertained.’
‘Tartar women?’ said Fergie helpfully. ‘Danny Hislop …’
‘Healthy physical exercise,’ said Lymond tartly. ‘Until the roads harden up and they can get on with their trading. They have to wait in Moscow anyway until the Tsar replies to their letter. And meanwhile we all want the Tsar’s noble mind irrevocably set on war with the Tartars; none more so than Prince Vishnevetsky and his gallant Cossacks. War with Lithuania would be an unfortunate mistake. Not to mention the Poles. A haughty nation and a very insulting people upon advantage.’
‘You’ve heard from Vishnevetsky?’ said Fergie. He missed the niceties of civilized law, but the nature of Russian intrigue almost made up for it.
‘He’s coming to see me in December,’ said Lymond. ‘Let’s have our exercise in December. What a pity we couldn’t induce a Tartar or two to set fire to us.’
‘We could set fire to ourselves,’ offered Fergie, with unthinking enthusiasm. ‘Except then we’d have no one to fight with.’
‘I shouldn’t be too sure of that,’ said Francis Crawford.
And thinking of the character of his leader, and the strong and divergent personalities of his colleagues