The Ringed Castle - Dorothy Dunnett [182]
Adashev, the soft-spoken Councillor with the pleasant, pockmarked face carried the Tsar’s gift to Lymond. It glinted in his hands: a necklet of pendant medallions linked with gold, openwork beads; each plaque bearing an image in cloisonné enamel, set with blue and green sapphires and garnets. He laid it over Lymond’s bent head and over the caftan, where it sparkled, a major artefact, close to the sacred barmi of princes; an unwise, a violent token of favour. The Tsar Ivan Vasilievich said, ‘It is our wish that you should travel to England.’
Lymond stood up. Because he knew Viscovatu was smiling; because he sensed the satisfaction on Kurbsky’s face, he did so smoothly but his eyes, wide and cold, were scanning that big, raw-boned face with its jutting nose and soft, reddish beard; and saw that there was colour on the high cheekbones, and a deeper furrow on the heavy, ridged brow. Lymond said, ‘As close as the shadow and the stile are the Tsar’s wishes, and his servant’s deeds to fulfil those wishes. I am to travel with Chancellor?’
The Tsar, braced to counter resistance, was visibly solaced; the brow lighter; the deep-set eyes anxious instead of majestic. ‘You were right,’ Ivan said. ‘The Muscovy merchants would accept no commissions. They would give no undertaking to carry our demand to their mistress: that if her people wish to stay here and trade, they must supply me with what my people must have: skilled artisans to teach us, and arms and munitions to defend ourselves from Antichrist and Mammon, the wolves on our borders.’
‘They fear you mean to attack,’ Lymond said. ‘And that the Teutonic League, Livonia and Poland and Lithuania, the German princes and the Hanseatic trade, all dear to the Emperor Charles, would then suffer.’
The Tsar’s hand was tight on his rod. ‘I have told them,’ he said. ‘I have told them that if there is to be peace and not bloody war, if they desire calm seasons to trade in, they must see that my poor weakened country can defend herself against those who would run burning and scourging across her. I have told them that if we take arms against any man in aggression, it will be against the heathen, the Tartar. For how can I repeat in my prayers the words I and the people given to me by Thee if I do not save them from the ferocity of our age-long enemies?’
They are obstinate,’ Lymond agreed. He considered the matter, without undue haste. ‘Chancellor is no politician. Robert Best, who returns with him, is little more than a draper. But Best has seen what our intentions are against the Tartar; he can report what we do with the resources under our hand, he can surely envisage what we might do, better armed. Why not let him support the case for you, and have the argument laid before the monarch of England by a Russian? Choose one of your councillors here to carry your prayer to Mary of England, and not a Scot, a former employee of France, a man whose countrymen are the foes of Charles and her traditional enemies. And while he is gone, I shall show you that without English armour, we may still take the Crimea.’
There was a little silence. Then the Tsar lifted his hand. Ivan Viscovatu said, ‘A Russian Ambassador has already been appointed to sail with the English Pilot Ritzert. A merchant from Vologda who can answer well the questions the English may ask about trading, and who knows what privileges we require in England in our turn. This man is Osep Nepeja. But of martial matters, he cannot speak. And you will not ask us to entrust business of such delicacy to the two disaffected of your own company who, it seems, are also to be of the party. Only one man has the ability, the knowledge, the persuasiveness to carry weight in such a transaction. And that man, our wise and noble Tsar has rightly decreed, is yourself.’
The Tsar said, ‘You will tell England that if we receive these arms, I shall declare war on Turkey.’
The sudden words fell on silenced air.