The Ringed Castle - Dorothy Dunnett [25]
Sylvester answered. ‘In two streets of Kitaigorod.’
‘And where are my men?’
‘There in the house. Those that are living.’
‘Then,’ said Lymond, ‘I will lead you to them, if you desire it. And we shall put this fire out, if you will protect us. When it is out, we shall require no protection, for the people will know us. They will see that we have your confidence; they will observe how you reward the services we perform for you: they will come to us to be fashioned as the men who today held off the Streltsi, the best of your troops. And they will thank their prince who provides them with such watchdogs, and the hunter who gives them such hounds.… Will my sovereign lord call Alexei Adashev?’
The Tsar stood very still. Only the big ringed hand, moving up and down jerkily, rasped on the jewelled brocade of the long over-robe. Then the hand fell to his side and he spoke deep in his throat.’ Alexei?’
Lymond’s knife moved slowly down. For a moment the counsellor stayed where he was. Then he straightened, his eyes shut, his fingers laid over his throat while Lymond’s iron grip held him. Then he sighed, open-mouthed, and unclosing his eyes, walked forward while Lymond’s hand fell and Lymond’s arms were seized, instantly, by Kurbsky. Francis Crawford looked down, once, at the alien grasp on his elbows and then stood still, contempt on his face, and watched the Tsar only.
Alexei Adashev reached his master, and the Emperor’s two arms stretched out to grasp him. For a moment they stood, face to face; then Adashev spoke. ‘Let him go free.’
The Tsar’s bearded face stared at him without speaking. Then he said, ‘You say so?’
Alexei Adashev slowly dropped his blood-spotted hand from his collar. ‘I say so,’ he said. ‘For there is an effrontery which will bring us to maggots; or to conquest sweet as the magic well which shall never want water.’
The Tsar listened. The Tsar put aside the counsellor and standing once more still in his place, spoke to Lymond. ‘Franzei.’
It was the term given to all foreigners: to the Italians who had rebuilt the Kremlin: to the rare ambassadors who had been suffered to approach the sovereign lord. Prince Kurbsky released Lymond’s arms, and slowly Lymond moved forward; paused; and knelt.
‘You may kiss my hand,’ Ivan said, deep in his throat.
Brazen and bright in the sunlight, Lymond’s burnished head bent, and his lips brushed Ivan’s outstretched hand.
‘You may kiss my foot,’ said the Tsar.
Unstirring, Lymond remained for a moment, head bent. Then, smoothly stooping, he kissed also Ivan’s red slippered foot.
‘Remain,’ said the Emperor; and his voice thickened suddenly. He held out his hand. ‘An axe.’
Adashev made to speak, and was still. It was the monk who took from an escort his silver, long-handled axe and placed it with care within the Tsar’s heavy, imperious hand. Lymond, kneeling, did not look up.
Ivan Vasilievich lifted the axe with both arms. The sun sent a shaft like sea-dazzle to blaze on the silver, and lit the gathered silk robe of the still, kneeling man and the curved head and the pale, unprotected arch of the neck. Then the Tsar cried out and swung the blade down with all the strength of his powerful shoulders.
It bit through the skin of the floor, as into chickenskin, not an inch from Lymond’s unmoving body. It had shuddered itself into stillness before Lymond stirred and in silence lifted his eyes to the mantled face of Ivan Vasilievich.
‘You are forgiven,’ said Ivan.
*
Through the black, clouded air and the glare of fire and the distant screaming of voices, four men of St Mary’s saw their commander ride into the yard, and the bright helms of the Tsar’s guard behind him. And Danny Hislop, with a handful of arrows, fitted one with exhausted care to his bow and, raising it, aimed straight at Lymond. Then Guthrie’s hand leaned on his shoulder, but still, he did not lower the barb.
It was in his hands still when Lymond