The Ringed Castle - Dorothy Dunnett [88]
‘To Tula!’ his father had said sharply. ‘Did they march on Moscow?’
Christopher sat up.
‘No. There was a battle, but the Tartars retreated. They have gone back to the south. But in the spring, they say, the Tsar will send a pack of great hounds to rout this bear out of his hole.’
‘Ah, yes,’ Chancellor said. ‘I hear the Tsar is following Sigismund’s habit and reforming his army with mercenaries.’
‘Where do you hear that?’ said Nepeja.
‘Or is that a sweeping assumption? I know of a Scot here in service with him,’ said Christopher’s father. ‘I should prefer to think the Tsar free to turn his mind to matters other than martial. Trade, for instance.’
Osep Nepeja’s sallow, thick-folded face was polite, and quite blank. ‘The Grand Duke’s army is purely for the purpose of defending his frontiers,’ he said. ‘There is a scattering, it is true, of service foreigners.’
‘The man we know,’ said Rob Best quite unexpectedly, ‘is called Francis Crawford. Have you heard of him?’
The Namiestnik’s thoughtful brown eyes turned on him. ‘Yes. The gentleman with the eagle. His home is in Moscow.’
Suddenly, Christopher was perfectly awake. He said, ‘A Scotsman called Crawford is——’
‘Mistress Philippa’s husband. We know,’ said his father without turning round.
‘Here in Russia?’ Christopher said.
‘Yes,’ said his father, and this time looked at him with a quelling, slate-coloured eye.
‘With an eagle?’ said Christopher, failingly, under his breath, but this time no one answered him at all, and they had gone on to talk about taxes.
He got no further, either, when he questioned his father next day. Word had come through just before they left England that Mistress Philippa’s husband had taken employment in Russia. It was none, said his father, of Christopher’s business.
Christopher’s romantic soul was disappointed. ‘Doesn’t he want to come home?’ he inquired.
‘You must ask him that if you meet him,’ was all his father would say, rudely, in answer; and it was left to Christopher to try and squeeze more out of Rob Best. But Rob Best would not be informative either, except to say that he’d heard Tartars used eagles sometimes for deer hunts.
It sounded unlikely, but sustained Christopher in speculation for the four days it took to divide their goods and their party by half. Here in Vologda, in a warehouse hired for ten roubles till Easter, would remain the major part of their cargo, to be sold where prices were better and trading somewhat freer than in Moscow. And here, waiting in Vologda for permission to sell it would be Mr Grey as Company Agent, with Edwards, Hudson and Sedgewick to help him; and Judde and Hawtrey largely to hinder.
It was all fairly exciting, in spite of the time it took to separate the items for Moscow and transfer them from stroogs to telegas, which proved to be small narrow carts, of the kind you saw sometimes in Staffordshire, with four wheels, a pair of wood shafts and a box. The post horses alone, Mr Killingworth said, were going to cost over ten shillings.
Master Nepeja wanted to see what the cargo was like, and nearly everyone disappeared one morning into the warehouse and came back in different moods: Master Nepeja looked bland and Mr Grey very stiff, while Mr Killingworth was scarlet. Christopher heard afterwards that they had been offered twelve roubles for a piece of broadcloth and four altines, or two shillings, for a pound of Will Chester’s precious refined sugar. They had refused and sold almost nothing. Christopher hoped, from the look on Mr Killingworth’s face, that they would get better prices in Moscow.
Then the telegas were ready, including the butt of Holland and the cask of cane sugar which had been specially packed for the Tsar, and they began to assemble what was left of their party for Moscow: Christopher and his father as official royal envoy; Mr Lane and Mr Price to help Mr Killingworth as agent, and Mr Best to interpret. With them also came Master Nepeja and the two Kholmogory merchants.
Their departure, through shouting