Tales of the Rus: Chapter I, "The Vodka Principle"
- Being an exposition of the reign of Vasily III -
Summary:
Vodka is produced. A metropolitan complains. An emperor responds. A metropolitan is chastened. Diplomacy with neighbours is attempted. A neighbour is ignored. Diplomacy is attempted. Another neighbour is ignored. A war is joined. A metropolitan applauds. A war is won. A metropolitan complains. A metropolitan complains severely. A metropolitan is beheaded by mistake. An emperor chastens a guard. A guard is promoted. A war is declared. A metropolitan applauds. An emperor bites the dust.
January 1526, a Dark Cave Near Novgorod
[Present: Vasily III, Tsar of all the Russians, a metropolitan, an unnamed guard captain, his troop of 20 men, an impromptu crowd 400 peasants rounded up by the aformentioned troop to provide an appreciative audience.]
And thus, as your God-appointed Tsar, it is my great pleasure to present the very first state run Vodka enterprise, which will be but the first of many to slake the first of you, my people, the people of Russia. The Vodka will be sold under the Bear label. The first product is the Vasily Bear, named for my illustrious ancestor, Vasilly.
[The crowd applauds]
Prices will, of course, be reasonable and fair.
[The crowd applauds. The metropolitan rolls his eyes]
For too long have the unwashed masses had to suffer inferior products, made in the sweat of the brows of the greedy buggers
Burghers, your majesty. Surely you mean burghers?
Them too. My people! I have hear in my hand a letter from the Metropolitan of Moscow, stating that the Church
SUPPORTS the Bear label! Do not be deceived by inferior products, but drink the straight Orthodox Vodka.
I mean, one is a solid member of the middle class, the other a rascal or a sodomite. As your metropolitan, I really should point out that there is a significant difference
Oh, you know that from personal experience, do you? Know what I mean, know what I mean. Nudge, nudge. You can confide in your Tsar, you know.
[The crowd applauds. The guards snigger and make explicit rude gestures. The metropolitan turns bright red]
No, no, do not answer that one today, metropolitan, you can tell me gomorrah.
[The crowd applauds. The guards burst out laughing. The guard captain attempts to restore order. The metropolitan has a fit]
Well, sod him then. Let's get stinking drunk! CAPTAIN, evict those layabouts! Shouldn't they be working at this time of the day?
[The peasants are evicted, drinks are distributed, and pandemonium ensues. Royal dignity is in short supply]
1520'ies, From the Master of Records
Draft #1
...To the ruler of Sweden, the humble Master of Records, servant of Vasily III, Tsar of all the Russians, sends greetings. It has come to the attention of my Imperial Master that you are laying claims to the fair ugric provinces of the far North. This has much aggrieved my Imperial Master, whose wisdom, courage, and eloquence is legendary. He says, and I quote, "Tell the silly bugger to bugger off on the horse he rode in on, or I'll gather the army, raze the Finnish fortifications, rape his women, mutilate his cattle, send out the peasants to make crop circles all over Sweden proper, and subject that silly bugger Gustav Vasa to such a big anal probe that he will never sit down again. And I'll do it twice."
Draft #9
...To the ruler of Sweden, the humble Master of Records, servant of Vasily III, Tsar of all the Russians, sends greetings. It has come to the attention of my Imperial Master that you are laying claims to the fair ugric provinces of the far North. This has much aggrieved my Imperial Master, whose wisdom, courage, and eloquence is legendary. He says, and I quote, "Blast and bebother. Tell the arrogant bugger to bugger off on the horse he rode in on, or bugger it, for all I care, just so long as he does it somewhere private, or I'll gather the army and BURN Finland to the ground and sow it with salt that none may prosper. Damn, it's cold. It's always cold, isn't it? Finland is cold too, and Soggy. BUT THAT WILL NOT STOP ME! Ha! If Finland is too soggy, I'll pull out the plug and sink it!"
Draft #241
...To the ruler of Sweden, the humble Master of Records, servant of Vasily III, Tsar of all the Russians, sends greetings. It has come to the attention of my Imperial Master that you are laying claims to the fair ugric provinces of the far North. This has much aggrieved my Imperial Master, whose wisdom, courage, and eloquence is legendary. He is displeased at the very notion, but is prepared to spare you a stinging retort that would utterly demoralize your corrupt court with its beauty and inherent truth due to his fabled kindness and forebearance.
1520'ies, From the Master of Records
...To the fairly-good king Zygmunt I of Poland, the humble Master of Records, chief servant of Vasily III, he who is as a father to all the Rus, sends greetings. It has come to the attention of my Imperial Master that you believe yourself entitled to certain lands in Southern Russia inherited by Lithuanian tax-dodgers, ruffians, and the other sort of human refuse that Lithuania is so well-known for. Feel free to advance an offer for the good lands. The serfs come who have squatted in the area come free of charge, and if they are not to your liking, they can be slain. In a humanitarian fashion, naturally. The mines are always in need of workers..... My Imperial Master has undertaken a thorough study of the issues of international trade. As all men know, grain is the very basis of trade. Without grain, horses sicken and die, and even the cities can be affected. Oh, the serfs complain that they starve and die as well when grain is short, but serfs are used to starving, and that is their lot in this life according to the metropolitan of Moscow, according to whom they will be well rewarded in the kingdom of God. As such it is the wish of my Imperial Master that a trade agreement between the kingdom of Poland and the Empire of Russia be signed the better to ensure an uninterrupted supply of grain... In other news, he sends word to his cousin, Zygmunt I, that the Polish wife supplied to his cousin Count Ruskomsnovskii is big with child - possibly even the Count's - so that is a "thumb's up", to quote my Imperial Master. My Imperial Master also urges his cousin to slow down the Catholic missionary activity on the border. It is inflaming passions and the metropolitan of Moscow is thundering against the Poles on a weekly basis now. Due to the fragile political situation after the minor political crisis of 1523, the metropolitan's support is needed. If this unrestricted missionary activity continues, it may prove necessary to burn a couple of Catholic villages on the border to satisfy the Metropolitan.
May 21st, 1530, Lugansk Province
My fellow soldiers! I have here in my hand a letter from the subhuman bastard of Crimea, countersigned by the ineffectual incompetent of Georgia, our beloved alliance leader, that your sacrifices for the crown of Georgia has not been in vain. For two years we have fought a grueling campaign against Crimea to save Georgia from their vicious attack, in due accordance with the warnings and guarantees made by the court, suffering thousands of casualties, hardships, and bad weather. Under my wise leadership, we have occupied Lugansk, Azow, Crimea, and Kerch and beaten the mighty armies of the Crimea. Now, I know that some of you were hoping to retire in a port on the black sea, and, indeed, our gains would have seemed to justify such an expectation. To those I say: Tough luck. Our glorious alliance leader decided to halt the war and, for your incredible efforts, Lugansk has now joined the Empire of Russia!
Now, I know that the metropolitan, once such a staunch supporter of this just war, has some been in close contact with the Georgian clergy and has long been the strongest Russian voice in the Georgian court, but please do not think that it is his fault the way things turned out. Despite his CLOSE connections both spiritually and economically with the Georgian court, nobody has ever suggested that he is to blame for this outcome. Indeed, you must remember that he is a man of God, and too much religion tends to make a man soft in the head, if you know what I mean, so do not take too much heed of any hypothetical criticism of your Imperial Master, i.e. me, that he might offer. He is a right pain in the ass sometimes, but he has a hard job, and someone's gotta do it.
August 9th, 1530, Palace of the Tsar
That went down rather well, all things considered. The soldiers were right mad, and it is hard to blame them, really. Wish it were as easy to deal with the nobles.
Indeed, Tsar. So instead of blaming them, you blamed me.
Who tells such lies!? Never would I blame you for this abject failure. I am sure it is the will of God.
Pardon me, my Tsar, but the will of God is MY province. Kindly render unto Caesar what is Caesar's and unto me what is mine.
Actually, I thought the second half had to do about rendering unto God, and, no offense, metropolitan, but God you are not.
Do you MOCK the Lord!
Not really, but for all practical purposes, I
am Caesar.
I am the Tsar of all the Russians. Surely, you must have heard the title? Wheras you, no offense meant, is mereley an obnoxious kinsman of mine who happens to have grown just a little too glad about having his fat bum planted squarely in the Orthodox Church. And, not to put it too bluntly, I have hordes of obnoxious kinsmen. You really are not all that unique.
Blasphemy! My heart belongs to the good lord and the mother Church while my head and its keen and incisive mind is always ready on the state's behalf! Do not mock me - I have powerful friends
Not again. Having one of your fits, are you? It is at times like this that I think the ancients were right: Either unite the religious duties under the ruler, i.e. me, or separate church from state.
You are intolerable Vasilly! You always were, even as a child. Do you still drown puppies for the kicks, you stupid wanker? I always told aunty that I would have a better Tsar than you, but did she listen? Separation of Church and State? Pah, such is impossible. It can not be. Unthinkable. Let me demonstrate! You there, Guard!
Yo! metropolitan?
Yo!? I want your name, guard, you are going into the black book
Brutus, Sir. Big Bad Brutus. Also known as BB Brutus.
As a true son of the Church, answer this truly, that the Tsar may see the folley of his speech: Pray tell me, is it possible to separate Church from State?]
That is an interesting question, your metropolitanship. Already the ancient Greeks studied this question and under the early Roman Empire it became a dominant issue between the state gods and the upstart gods of newly conquered areas. Assimilation worked well in all but one case. In later years, noted scholars investigating these issues have focused rather more on the issue of free will.... But I digress. Yes, indeed, Separation of Church and state is possible, at least locally
Ah, an intellectual. I should have known. Pray demonstrate the "local" solution, guard
Please do, guard. I am curious as to your solution.
SWIIISH
CHOP
PLOP
My Tsar. The body of the church has now been separated from the head of the state, and my statement shown to hold true by empirical evidence.
Except, of course, that the experiment cannot be verified easily. Sloppy logic, my man.
Indeed, my Tsar. I apologise profusely. I throw myself on your mercy. I kiss your feet! I lick your boots! I wipe your august royal ass!
Enough. You are clearly overqualified for your current job. Consider yourself promoted. You, my guard, are the new metropolitan of Moscow. Now, hop along, and get the Church in order.
Thank you, great Imperial Master! Thank you very much indeed! We wish you would be a bit more deferential to the representative of the Church, though, in these impious times. Consider the state of your mortal soul. And you can wave the ass-wiping and boot-licking goodbye. That's beneath the dignity of the metropolitan.
Et tu, Brute.
May 23rd, 1533, Army Camp in Ryazan
So it is like this, officers. The Astrakhani cretins have been insulting my mother, and, by inference, all of your mothers as she is MY mother and hence the mother of all of Russia, if you know what I mean, and I am sure that you do. So we are going to take these here formations of soldiers and sort of stuff them into Astrakhan until there is no opposition left. It should be over with in a snap, and we'll have the boys home for Christmas. Yes, Orthodox Christmas, of course. What did you expect?
As usual, Georgia will be the leader of any alliance-wide negotiations, which means that time is of the essence. The bastard midget of Georgia is likely to cut us out in the peace resolution otherwise.
But remember your job. Avenge the slight to your honour and work diligently to support our Imperial Title as Tsar of ALL teh Russians, not "Tsar of some of the Russians, excepting those to the east". Just doesn't sound as good, really, and one thing is for sure, to be immortalised in word and song, I need publicity and grandeur, and you fellows are the one's who will buy that prize for me with your heart's blood. Just like in the good old days.
Now, with fire in your blood, let us raise the banner on high and go there and
slay them. They'll never know what hit them. God bless us - there are none like us!