"Prepare to die! For Moscow!" A tiny hand pushed the wooden soldier forward, toward certain danger. Across the carpeted battle field a line of carved spearmen awaited the charge.
The hand and voice belonged to Roman, the second son of Rogneda. Leading the rival army with an alarming amount of disinterest was Petr, the eldest son of Rogneda. Both boys were fathered by Ivan I and both were expected to one day live up to their father's example.
"Take this!" One of Petr's soldiers was felled by a swat of Roman's hand. Deprived of his carefully crafted base the wooden man was now helpless. As more of his comrades experienced similar fates the battle began to turn into a rout.
Petr ignored the plight of his men, instead staring intently at the room's stone wall, gazing into visions only he could see.
His younger brother quickly grew angry at the apathy shown in the face of his glorious victory. "What are you looking at? Lost in your own world again?"
There was no answer, nor did Roman really expect one. His brother had been acting this way for awhile, perhaps as long as Roman could remember.
"How was your battle?" The hard voice of Rogneda did nothing to pull Petr from his imaginary other life.
"I won mother! I won glory for Moscow!" His announcement was greeted with a dismissive gesture as his mother's eyes focused on her eldest child.
He was gone again. Rogneda had hoped it was a temporary problem, something Petr would grow out of. This had not been the case.
After Roman left the room she hugged Petr tightly.
Roman, second son of Rogneda.
Petr, detached eldest son of Rogneda.
-----------------------------------------------------------
"Your wife took very ill from foul air..." The messenger paused, already fearful of Ivan's response. This moment had been robbing him of sleep since he had left Moscow with the news.
The Grand Duke merely gave a gesture to continue, his youthful features impassive, perhaps even bored.
"She died, my Lord." He braced for an explosion, but it never came.
"This is the common fate of humanity." Thoughtfulness replaced disinterest. "What of my child?"
"The child was also lost." Now the explosion came.
"Blood of Christ! I am still without an heir! Get out! Now!" The messenger's retreat was a reckless one.
As the Grand Duke's anger subsided he had time to put the news into some perspective. He was without a wife now, and had only a worthless daughter to show for his first marriage. If he were to die the line of succession would be broken and the Grand Duke would be...
"We must prepare to ride." Andrei pulled the ruler of Moscow back to the present moment.
"Spring has not yet taken hold, brother. If we ride now we risk feeling the wrath of Madame Frost even as she leaves." His younger brother merely shook his head in response.
"Moscow is now without a Steward. If we wait, the city will fall into chaos. If that was not enough, there are Tartars on our eastern border. We need to make a show of force, now."
The Dragonslayer didn't hesitate. If he could trust anyone, he could trust Andrei.
"We ride."
It was only after Andrei left to organize the soldiers that Ivan realized that his younger brother was still his successor.
----------------------------------------------------------
"God has abandoned us! Convert to Islam!" The screams of panic outside the castle were ignored by Maria, who had more important matters to attend to. The brilliant but deformed daughter of Ivan I was planning her escape from a Vladimir that was being overrun by Mongols.
Her children had already left for Moscow weeks before the siege had begun, now it was only a matter of convincing her husband to plan for the inevitable.
"I have arranged an escape under cover of darkness. The Tartars are still disorganized and the people I know..."
Her husband Vsyevolod cut her off. "You would have me abandon my duties, to flee like a coward? It is bad enough you sent my sons away without my permission."
"I was punished for that." She remembered the beating, the latest of many. "Will you die for another man's arrogance? The Prince should have known that his defiance would visit ruin on us!"
A stinging slap sent Maria staggering backward. "Nothing is decided! God will protect his own!" Vsyevolod's fists clenched. "I see I have been neglectful of my husbandly duties. You will remember what your place is!"
Maria covered her face as the blows began to fall in number. Even as tears of pain and humiliation flowed freely she was changing her plans. She would escape alone. This monster could die for his pride and she would not mourn.
Doomed Vladimir.
The hand and voice belonged to Roman, the second son of Rogneda. Leading the rival army with an alarming amount of disinterest was Petr, the eldest son of Rogneda. Both boys were fathered by Ivan I and both were expected to one day live up to their father's example.
"Take this!" One of Petr's soldiers was felled by a swat of Roman's hand. Deprived of his carefully crafted base the wooden man was now helpless. As more of his comrades experienced similar fates the battle began to turn into a rout.
Petr ignored the plight of his men, instead staring intently at the room's stone wall, gazing into visions only he could see.
His younger brother quickly grew angry at the apathy shown in the face of his glorious victory. "What are you looking at? Lost in your own world again?"
There was no answer, nor did Roman really expect one. His brother had been acting this way for awhile, perhaps as long as Roman could remember.
"How was your battle?" The hard voice of Rogneda did nothing to pull Petr from his imaginary other life.
"I won mother! I won glory for Moscow!" His announcement was greeted with a dismissive gesture as his mother's eyes focused on her eldest child.
He was gone again. Rogneda had hoped it was a temporary problem, something Petr would grow out of. This had not been the case.
After Roman left the room she hugged Petr tightly.
Roman, second son of Rogneda.
Petr, detached eldest son of Rogneda.
-----------------------------------------------------------
"Your wife took very ill from foul air..." The messenger paused, already fearful of Ivan's response. This moment had been robbing him of sleep since he had left Moscow with the news.
The Grand Duke merely gave a gesture to continue, his youthful features impassive, perhaps even bored.
"She died, my Lord." He braced for an explosion, but it never came.
"This is the common fate of humanity." Thoughtfulness replaced disinterest. "What of my child?"
"The child was also lost." Now the explosion came.
"Blood of Christ! I am still without an heir! Get out! Now!" The messenger's retreat was a reckless one.
As the Grand Duke's anger subsided he had time to put the news into some perspective. He was without a wife now, and had only a worthless daughter to show for his first marriage. If he were to die the line of succession would be broken and the Grand Duke would be...
"We must prepare to ride." Andrei pulled the ruler of Moscow back to the present moment.
"Spring has not yet taken hold, brother. If we ride now we risk feeling the wrath of Madame Frost even as she leaves." His younger brother merely shook his head in response.
"Moscow is now without a Steward. If we wait, the city will fall into chaos. If that was not enough, there are Tartars on our eastern border. We need to make a show of force, now."
The Dragonslayer didn't hesitate. If he could trust anyone, he could trust Andrei.
"We ride."
It was only after Andrei left to organize the soldiers that Ivan realized that his younger brother was still his successor.
----------------------------------------------------------
"God has abandoned us! Convert to Islam!" The screams of panic outside the castle were ignored by Maria, who had more important matters to attend to. The brilliant but deformed daughter of Ivan I was planning her escape from a Vladimir that was being overrun by Mongols.
Her children had already left for Moscow weeks before the siege had begun, now it was only a matter of convincing her husband to plan for the inevitable.
"I have arranged an escape under cover of darkness. The Tartars are still disorganized and the people I know..."
Her husband Vsyevolod cut her off. "You would have me abandon my duties, to flee like a coward? It is bad enough you sent my sons away without my permission."
"I was punished for that." She remembered the beating, the latest of many. "Will you die for another man's arrogance? The Prince should have known that his defiance would visit ruin on us!"
A stinging slap sent Maria staggering backward. "Nothing is decided! God will protect his own!" Vsyevolod's fists clenched. "I see I have been neglectful of my husbandly duties. You will remember what your place is!"
Maria covered her face as the blows began to fall in number. Even as tears of pain and humiliation flowed freely she was changing her plans. She would escape alone. This monster could die for his pride and she would not mourn.
Doomed Vladimir.
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