SIX.
Munitions and Metropolitans
3 June 1676 – 2 June 1678
‘
Truly outrageous!’ fumed Nuvtte Gáhppá, the elected representative of the
Sámiráđđi to the
Stavovské Zhromaždenie. His already-ruddy round face turned even redder in his dudgeon. ‘Hundreds—
thousands—of brave Sámi hunters, skilled marksmen and loyal to the Moravian Crown, fought and bled and
died for the Lakeland, only to see it still in Garderikean hands once the peace was signed. And now, instead of speaking to me directly, man-to-man, Jaromír fobs me off on
you?’
‘I,’ answered Dita Hlinková, levelly and with a degree of poise her seventeen-year-old peers truly envied, ‘am the
Korunná princezná, heiress to the Empire of Carpathia and the Kingdom of Moravia. I speak for my father, and you may speak to me.’
Nuvtte Gáhppá blustered a bit. Clearly he expected something along the lines of a bashful apology and a retreat from this young woman, who had shown herself more formidable than expected. ‘E—even so! I have come here expecting the Moravians to do right by us. We have been nothing but loyal to you down the centuries.’
‘You expect my father and I to do right by you,’ Dita narrowed her eyes. ‘Very well. Where shall we start? Have my father or I failed to honour the bargain which was struck between Lampsiōtēs and your ancestors? Have my father or I failed to provide protection or aid to the Sámi when they asked for it? Have my father or I demanded any undue or disproportionate share of your tax revenues?’
‘No,’ Nuvtte Gáhppá ground his teeth. ‘You have not.’
This exercise of Nuvtte’s jaw triggered something of an involuntary adolescent response in Dita. She noticed the depth and strength of that jaw as it met his shapely neck—and her eyes wandered slightly over the well-formed shoulders and muscular forearms beneath his traditional, red-collared blue felt
gákti. Well, well. So they knew how to make a
man up in the chilly north! But this was only a moment, and Nuvtte was thankfully oblivious.
‘And you are right to acknowledge it,’ Dita folded her arms. ‘The Crown treasures its relations with Sápmi. We take our obligations to you seriously. You may come from a different mother tongue, but we are united in Christ Jesus and in our allegiance.’
‘I have never even
thought otherwise,’ Nuvtte grumbled.
‘Yet here you are,’ said Dita. ‘What “right” would you claim of us? Go back on our word once it’s signed to paper, and break our truce with Garderike and East Francia? Send our men marching through Ryazan before the gun smoke has even cleared? Proceed to waste thousands of Sorbian and Moravian and Carpathian lives for a fishing-pond or two in Karjala?’
‘Nothing of the sort,
pani,’ Nuvtte inclined his head a thought in deference. ‘Yet even you must acknowledge the burden borne by Sámi soldiers in this war—a burden which has not yet been properly requited.’
‘I do acknowledge it,’ said Dita. ‘I am sure my father does also. It is well that you aren’t asking us to go to war again for you. But I ask again: what sort of “requital” did you have in mind?’
‘Uikujoki,’ said Nuvtte firmly. ‘The
Sámiráđđi stands in absolute consensus behind me on this. We want formal
fishery rights and
shipping rights on Uikujoki, going all the way to the White Sea.’
Dita frowned. ‘I can tell you right now that Ladomír z Veleslavína is going to raise a stink in the Inner
Zhromaždenie over any such bargain. But you, and the Sámi people whom you represent, do have the right of the matter. I shall persuade my father to grant you these rights. And if he doesn’t or can’t, then
I will. You have my word.’
Dita extended her hand, and Nuvtte kissed it. He told her: ‘The men in court here in Olomouc
do tell me that you honour your word. I hope that such a reputation holds true for us in the northlands as well.’
Dita let out a breath as Nuvtte Gáhppá left the audience hall. Well. That wasn’t so bad.
The next person to arrive in the audience hall at Olomouc Castle was another young man—also tall, also with a round face, also with a rather comely and tall masculine frame, but of a decidedly different complexion and temperament. He was even more naturally handsome than Nuvtte. His skin was fair, his chin clean-shaven, and his dark-brown hair hung long and fine around his shoulders, with just the hints of curl at the end. He was, Dita guessed, a Sorb by ethnicity, but his sartorial preference was emphatically in the East Frankish fashion: ruffled shirt, cravat, waistcoat, dark stockings. Suave and sharp, this fashionable young Sorb stood at calm attention in Dita’s presence.
Understanding who she was, he introduced himself formally, but by no means stiffly. ‘Uściech Rychnovský,
Arcywójwoda of Drježdźany, at your service,
Pani.’
Dita held out a hand for Uściech to kiss, which he did gallantly. Ahh, he had a ring on the relevant finger already. Dita felt a little twinge of disappointment, but inwardly congratulated the lucky bride.
‘
Ráda vás spoznávam,’ Dita answered him. ‘And what brings you to Olomouc, sir?’
‘Oh, merely that it’s high time I made myself known here at court,’ said the young Sorbian vassal. ‘A state visit from me was somewhat overdue, I fear. I trust there’s no hard feelings on the matter.’
‘None at all from me,’ Dita assured him.
‘There is, of course,’ Uściech added smoothly, ‘the small matter of restoring the fortifications which were damaged in the late war with East Francia; but this is something that can wait. I have some capable engineers, a couple of good quarries and plenty of fine forest.’
‘Your good defence doubles as ours,’ Dita noted shrewdly. ‘I’ll see what we can do with regard to labour and recompense.’
‘Much obliged,
Pani,’ said Uściech with a bow.
The audience took a little less time than Nuvtte’s, but it still prompted Bohumil z Haugvic to leave the hall after him. Haugvic decided it would be a good time to meet with the
Cár a Kráľ, even though Jaromír would be in a meeting with the
Zbor of Moravian bishops for another hour or so before they called a recess. He waited there, and soon the sovereign appeared.
‘A word with you,
vaše Veličenstvo,’ said Haugvic.
‘Of course, Bohumil.’
‘It’s about your daughter.’
‘How is she holding up?’ asked Jaromír eagerly.
‘Well indeed,’ said Bohumil assuringly. ‘I’d say she takes to state affairs like a fish to water, so true is she bred to the task.’
The sovereign sighed happily. ‘That’s a relief. Mislava is surely smiling from heaven.’
‘That, I think, remains to be seen.’
‘But you just said—!’
‘As far as
state business is concerned, she’s a natural talent,’ Bohumil assured Jaromír. ‘But… Dita’s a woman now. She’s fair. She’s unattached. And… quite frankly, she’s
looking. I’m a father of girls, too; I know the signs. You would do well,
Veličenstvo, to…
urge her toward a gentle and virtuous suitor. Make the choice sooner… rather than face regrets, heartbreak and ruin later.’
Jaromír was taken a bit aback, and did not answer for the space of a few breaths, but Bohumil was gratified to see that he was taking his advice with the serious thought it merited. ‘Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Bohumil.’
~~~
The question of Judita’s engagement and marriage was pressing, but it was also down a long agenda.
Nuvtte Gáhppá wasn’t the only member of the
Stavovské Zhromaždenie with an axe to grind. The late war had been monetarily costly, the state had gone into debt, and the debt had to be repaid. Inflation had to be controlled. This was the urban estate’s chief concern. But he also granted to the townsmen the right to patronise the fine arts. (The
Akadémia výtvarných umení in Košice dates its founding to 1678, as a result of this session of the
Zhromaždenie.)
The Moravian bishops, also, were in a state of deep dissatisfaction—hence the meetings with the
Zbor. The special privileges that the autocephalous Metropolitan of Vislania had enjoyed for the past three hundred years now seemed obsolete. Vislania was a relatively small flock, and relatively rural. But their Metropolitan commanded immense power and influence in Churchly circles, to the point where the much larger Moravian flock, and the still-larger Bohemian, were often shorted in the allocation of state funds to the Church in favour of the residents of Lesser Poland. The new Archbishop of Moravia, Pankrác (Vanek), formally requested of
Cár a Kráľ Jaromír that he rectify the situation.
Archbishop Pankrác got his wish, over Metropolitan Julian (Ulatowski) of Vislania’s objections. Jaromír placed it in law that Budějovice and Velehrad were formally classed as
mētropolei: this allowed Archbishop Pankrác to appoint metropolitan bishops to each of these cities. Now there was Metropolitan Martin (Bílek) of Budějovice and Metropolitan Andrej (Kocúr) of Velehrad. It was a rather irregular situation: the Metropolitan of Vislania remained autocephalous, but the new Metropolitan Martin and Metropolitan of Moravia were both still subject to the autocephalous Archbishop of Moravia. What it meant in practice, however, was that Budějovice and Velehrad each had equal claims to Church funds next to Chenciny. The other thing that Jaromír did to placate the Church, was to place the final nail in the coffin of the
Nedržitelia movement by enshrining the right of monasteries and churches to own land in law… and distributing Crownlands to them.
Bohumil z Haugvic, after offering his fatherly advice to the sovereign, began commissioning the use of
cartridges for use in small arms. By distributing standard shot and uniform doses of powder, wrapped in paper and dipped in beeswax for safety and ease of transport, not only did Haugvic manage to cut down loading time between rounds for his troops, but he also extended the life of the small arms that the Moravian Army used, saving the Crown money for their maintenance. Cartridges caused far less fouling inside the bore than naked lead shot.
Cár a Kráľ Jaromír observed this new and more efficient form of ammunition at work during a routine review of the
Kapitálová Armáda.
And finally, the
Sámiráđđi had made another unanimous demand of its titular and hereditary head, the
Gonagas Styrbjörn 3. Kaise: that he make a full profession of faith and formally undergo the rite of Baptism into the Sámi Orthodox Church. Styrbjörn was deeply respected among the whole of Sápmi for his eloquence and for his generosity… but the young man was a traditionalist who had always been more comfortable going to a
nuejjt for help and advice and religious guidance, than to any Orthodox priest or monk. But what was needed from a
Gonagas was precisely moral and spiritual guidance, and a heathen could not provide that: not when over four-fifths of his people had turned to Ímmiľ Alľk. Styrbjörn thus spat upon the Devil, was dunked thrice into the baptismal waters, and received the white robe and the chrism.
Cár a Kráľ Jaromír even journeyed to Anár in person, to serve as Styrbjörn’s godfather and sponsor in the Faith. And he undertook this voyage just as Protestant Livonia had decided to spread the Reformation into Garderikean lands at gunpoint... and grab a bit of land along the way.
It was a lot of responsibility to take on for a year; but he did it all in the space of eight months. One thing that could not be charged of the Moravian sovereign, was that he was lazy.
And on top of it all, Jaromír entered into some serious conversations with Rathbod von Asch, now
König Rathbod 3. of Bayern, concerning his unmarried teenage son Landfried. And then he entered into some rather serious conversations with said teenage son himself. These proved… promising.
‘Dita,’ Jaromír bade his daughter, ‘I have someone I would like you to meet.’
‘Yes,
ocko?’
Entering the audience room,
Korunná princezná Judita Hlinková found herself face-to-face with a sturdy, broad-shouldered, lightly-bearded Bavarian boy with dark hair and eyes, and clad in a ruffled shirt and short jacket.
‘Judita, I’d like you to meet Landfried von Asch, the son of the
König of Bayern. Landfried—my eldest daughter, Judita Hlinková.’
‘
Griaß di’ Gott, Judita,’ the boy said cheerily.
Dita answered him politely, and assessed with caution, as a teenage girl would. Nuvtte had been (in Dita’s mind) a farm-boy, and Uściech a dandy; Dita classed the lad in front of her as a cavalier. In terms of
looks, Landfried could certainly hold his own against Nuvtte and Uściech. His shoulders, forearms and thighs all showed that he exercised on the regular: most likely he had done a stint in the
Reiterschule. His attitude, confident and upbeat, also had its attractive aspect. But the fact that it was her father introducing him, had Dita suspicious. Of course, that was his right and prerogative as her father and as the sovereign of two realms. But Dita had her own standards, and Landfried would have to meet those—not only Jaromír’s.
