Episode XXXII: My Tver Lady
Aleksandra Rurikovich, Prince of Tver and Murom, was generally content. Her wedding to the Prince of Nizhny Novgorod – and associated nocturnal recreations – duly concluded, she was able to return her attentions to the business of state. Sadly, events in the council chamber never ran as effortlessly as they did in her own.
Her group of confidantes had expanded in recent months, though not as she would have liked. The first was Lady Elena Rurikovich, Duchess of Tula. Aleksandra’s cousin, she trusted the younger woman like a sister. That is to say, not at all. A widow like Aleksandra, Elena was lean and hungry-looking with an icy stare. If Lady Elena looked at something, it stayed looked at. Powerful, well-connected, and next in line to the throne after Prince Aleksandr, Aleksandra had looked to keep her at a distance. However, she had been thrust upon Aleksandra by her useless parliamentarians. It was better seen for a woman to have a woman advisor, apparently, and Aleksandra could not get rid of her without losing the support that she had amongst the nobility. Her cat, Montague, accompanied her everywhere, and seemed to act as either a familiar or as a second head, depending on whether it was draped over her shoulder or around her feet.
The other newcomer was a hooded clergyman, introduced by Mysterious Don Pedro as Brother Mijado. She didn’t like him much either. Another Spaniard, tall and completely mute (though, going by his compatriot, this was probably a blessing), he hovered around the edges of their councils like a incarnation of scornful sarcasm. Personal chaplain and confidante of Don Pedro, Aleksandra was unsure as to where the man had unearthed this particular creature, but she dearly hoped that he had kept the receipt. She suspected that Mijado’s purpose, far from spiritual, was to intimidate her, to make her more malleable to Don Pedro’s suggestions.
Aleksandra had hoped that her son, Aleksandr, would be present at more of their meetings, but she had not seen him for some hours. A smell of burning had permeated the second floor of the palace all morning, but the young Crown Prince had waved away her concerns, explaining that he was, once again, ‘doing science.’ He would likely not be seen for some time yet.
Mijado, at least, seemed to keep an air of neutrality, for all his presence unnerved her. The other two, though, seemed to have formed some sort of alliance, with the intention of frustrating her aims.
‘I understand, Lady Elena, the need for us to expand our territory even further. But not Ufa.’
‘Why not? We already hold part of the region.’
‘North Ufa is being colonised by the Siberians.’
‘And? Are your armies so weak that they cannot handle a few bandits?’
‘The bandits themselves are not the problem, Lady Elena. But they happen to be allied with the Ottomans.’
‘Hmm. Very well. Don Pedro?’
The Spaniard smiled an oily smile. ‘My Prrrrince, I bring you great news. Your armies have defeated the Steppe Hordes in Samara and are driving them out of the eastern territories.’
Aleksandra nodded. ‘Good. And I note greatly increased tax income from the Yaroslavl region.’
Lady Elena smiled. ‘My brother Yurij is Duke of Yaroslavl, my Prince. I am sure that he would be grateful for your favour.’
‘He has done what I expect of him, nothing more.’
The lady sniffed, a movement imitated by the black feline on her shoulder in perfect synchronicity.
‘He is loyal to you, my Prince, as we all are. Don’t like his wife, though. Ugly Belarusian thing. Filthy language. Filthy food. We should wipe them out if we get the chance.’
‘I do not think, Lady Elena, that the Belarusians are our greatest problem.’
‘If I may interject, my Prrrrince...’
‘Only if it is to draw a pair of daggers and drive one into each of your lungs’, the Prince of Tver did not say. ‘What, Don Pedro?’
‘The Belarrrrrusians are indeed strange, rebellious beasts with ideas of independence. We should be carrrreful that they are not up to mischief. Their eyes are close together. This makes them shifty.’
Elena nodded (as did Montague). ‘It is proven by science.’
‘When I get the chance I will arrange for them to have their eyes replaced in less shifty arrangements. Until then, I wish you to oversee the integration of Bolgar into our realm. And that was a royal ‘our’, not a first person plural.’
Elena smiled. ‘Certainly, my Prince. Anyway, as I said, the obvious move for Tver is to expand further into Ufa. We are hugely popular in that region and it is ripe for further expansion.’
‘Really?’
‘Well, ah. Ha.’ Elena faltered, then recovered her smile. ‘Yes! I hear that thousands of farmers take to the streets to welcome our glorious armies!’
‘Farmers?’
‘Yes! Must be farmers! Waving agricultural tools. In celebration. Of our agrarian culture.’
‘And the casualties?’
‘Well, they’re peasants. Not careful enough with their tools. But enthusiastic! Montague likes enthusiastic peasants, don’t you
montywonty?’
Aleksandra smiled a bloodless, toothy smile. Elena was a pain the tail. Never her favourite And while Don Pedro had been useful in gaining the crown, but now he was becoming a liability.
‘Then we shall reward their
enthusiasm by shifting our National Focus. Show them that they are as valued in the Tverian Princedom as their western brethren.’
Don Pedro looked surprised. Elena looked shocked. Montague looked confused. Brother Mijado, hovering in the corner, just looked devious.
‘To the east, my Prrrince?’ enquired Don Pedro.
‘To those savages and Tartars and heathens?’ Elena’s nose arched (barely worthy of note, as the appendage was be-arched over fifty percent of the time, but this was a more pronounced archement).
‘Yes. A full programme of cultural events and festivals. Show them the benefits of being part of the Principality. It will enrich the region...and should stifle some of their more rebellious tendencies while we educate them in how to be good Tverian citizens.’
Don Pedro and Elena looked at each other uneasily.
‘Good! Glad that’s settled. Now. I see increased tax revenue from Vladimir and the surrounding region as well.’
Don Pedro recovered himself.
‘Yes, my Prrrince. High tax income and improved profit margins from iron mines.’
‘Wonderful. And Elena?’
Elena looked up. ‘Yes, my Prince?’
‘Your daughter, Ekaterina, i sold enough to marry, is she not?’
‘She is, yes. I was thinking of a rich Hungarian nobleman.’
‘I’m sure you were. I was thinking of the Crown Prince of Georgia. And you know what the amusing thing is?’
‘What is that, my Prince?’
‘I am the Prince.And you are not. Off to Georgia with her.’
‘Why does she have to go to Georgia? Come, Aleksandra, she’s my daughter. I know what is best for her.’
‘And I know what is best for
Tver, Elena. Georgia could prove a useful ally. And I’m sure the Prince is lovely under the moustache.’
Elena glared at her cousin, in perfect synchronicity with Montague.
‘Splendid.’ Aleksandra leaned back in her chair. ‘Now then. We have made public our claims to Saratow. It is time to make good on these claims.’
‘I will see to tchem personally, my Prrrince.’ Simpered Don Pedro.
‘No you will not. Aleksandr will oversee the colonisation efforts.’
Mysterious Don Pedro was taken aback. ‘Why, my Prrrince?’
‘It is time that Aleksandr took on more duties. He is as ready as he will ever be. And with him, at least, I expect a minimum level of competence.’
Don Pedro gritted his teeth, not allowing his smile to falter. ‘As you say, my Prrrince. And you were saying yesterday that you were hoping to further centrrrralise our administrrrative strrrructures?’
Aleksandra nodded. ‘I am, yes.’
‘Perhaps, then, a humble serrrvant such as myself should try and gather suport amongst the nobility. It is a delicate matter.’
Elena nodded. ‘he would be a good choice, Aleksandra. Not eberyone will be happy aboput the move, but I’m sure that Don Pedro can gather enough suport for the move that it won’t cause any unfortunate incidents.’
Aleksandra sighed. She had to give them soemthing to do. ‘Very well. So be it. No trouble, remember?’
‘Oh, my Prrrince…’ Don Pedro’s eyes widened innocently ‘would I ever cause you any trouble?’
Some months later, Aleksandra announced another bold move. Georgia was threatened by the Ottoman Empire, their government weak, and their king lacking an heir. The country would be better off under the protection of the Principality of Tver – and the best way to cement such an arrangement would be a personal union between the two nations. Their dynastic ties – new as they were – made sucha n arrangement the most obvious solution to Georgia’s troubles.
Aleksandra would brook no military action against the Georgians: such a union would take place only if the king should fail to provide the country with a legitimate heir.
There was good news for Aleksandra some weeks later, when another powerful Kazakh force was crushed in Ufa, the Steppe Nomads retreating into the east, leaving their ill-gotten Russian territories open to tverian acquisition.
Don Pedro nodded with satisfaction. ‘Yes, my Prrrince. More than ever, you are the undisputed mistress of Russia.’
‘Of Russia, yes. Consolidating our control of the nomads’ territories will take time, but it is now a matter of
when, not
if.’ Aleksandra raised her hand to her chin, thinking. ‘There is, though, more work to be done.’
Elena raised an aristocratic eyebrow. ‘What sort of work?’
‘The Crimean. The Hungarian heretics have taken control of the area to the south of our Ukrainian holdings. The peoples of that region would be much better off under our control – and Tver would be all the greater for their acquisition.’
Don Pedro and Elena looked worried.
‘But…the Hungarians, my Prrrince? They are strong.’
‘No stronger than we. Hungary is central European. They have no business in that region. We, on the other hand, are the inheritors of all of Russia. It is time to make a claim on that region, allowing us to acquire the entire Crimean. The same goes for any country who interferes in our sphere of influence.’
Don Pedro shrugged. ‘Well, if you wish, my Prrrince. In that case, an opporrrrtunity has appeared.’
Aleksandra shook her head. ‘At some point, Don Pedro, you will engage your brain before your tongue.’
‘My Prrrrince?’
‘Did you notice
how they came into existence?’
Elena winced. ‘Unfortunate.’
‘Very unfortunate. Georgia is in ruins, and Crimea will be allied with the Ottomans. We can’t touch them.’
‘And what about my daughter?’
Aleksandra waved her hand dismissively. ‘She’ll be fine. Some of the Turks are lovely, I hear. Worse, even if we should obtain the throne of Georgia, it’s barely worth having if they don’t recover their territories.’
Don Pedro nodded. ‘Unfortunately so.’
‘We must make ready, then. It will take a long time to grow our forces to rival those of the Ottomans – we will need allies, and to remove the Hungarians from the equation first.’ Aleksandra thought for a second. ‘We will need to fill our coffers. Brother Mijado?’
The robed clergyman raised his head slightly.
‘Introduce a small charity levy for all church attendance. Most will go towards helping the poor...and the rest will go towards liberating the even poorer. Those poor enough to not live under Tverian law.’
Mijado inclined his head. Don Pedro exchanged another worried glance with Elena. This would not end well.
Elena turned to her cousin. ‘Aleksandra.
Dear Aleksandra. Is this a good idea? Are the nobility not taxed quite enough already?’
‘The nobility live in luxury while our brethren are oppressed by the Magyar and the Turk. They will survive – and their patriotic contributions will be remembered.’
‘As will the theft of their money.’
‘Of
whose money, Elena?’ Aleksandra pointed to the gold circlet around her brow as a hint.
Elena sighed. ‘Your money, of course, my dear Prince.'
'Much better. And as for their displeasure, well. Nothing that a few staircases can't solve. The richer they are, the higher their staircases, as they say.'
'I have a very nice staircase, Aleksandra.'
'Then co-operate, Elena, and you won't have to worry about falling down it.' The Prince of Tver's eyes flickered. 'Twice.'