OOC: Not really very good, but sadly I lost the original version of the story a while ago and couldn't really reconstruct it. Still, it should cover some interesting points. Might touch it up later for greater clarity.
IC:
It was after the story was done and the strange storyteller headed off towards the skete that a fat, bald old man in a merchants clothes caught up with him, having listened intently back at the inn as the man in the monks robes spoke of politics and war, and witchcraft and betrayal. The bald man was clearly excited and anxious; and before he could catch his breath, the storytellers eyes flashed with recognition as he remembered who this man was.
Ha ha, the strange novice laughed So it is you! How strange that you should be a layman now, while I have become a monk.
Demian
the bald man panted incredulously Demian the Red?
My hair has grown gray with time and worry, Demian the Red, once the foremost spy of Feodor Kuritsyn, replied in his usual strangely casual tone But yes, it is I, my good enemy. How have you been, Ostap?
Not much better than you, it seems, grunted Ostap the Bald, once Demians opposite number on the side of the late Patriarch Gennadius So you really are a monk now?
A novice. A wonder among wonders, truly, Demian eagerly accepted Ostaps incredulity And I need not lead the strictest life here. The Sovereign has been generous when he had me exiled to the local monastery. But come now, let us talk. And Demian led the way to the humble monastery, stopping a bit short of it.
I see you have fallen from grace as well, he addressed Ostap suddenly. Ostap shrugged indecisively. The former priest already began to realize that contrary to his first impression, he fell lower than his old rival did. Neither of them had emerged unscathed; but he felt clear envy towards this man, who managed to retire early and with at least some terms of his own, as opposed to being slowly hounded and thrown out, the new Patriarch seeing no need for his predecessors servants. The Tsar didnt really need to take up Ostap on his offer of service either, and a few months later he found himself bereft of what little power or influence he managed to accumulate and desperately trying to scrape by as a merchant, even that only becoming possible thanks to the pity of a former noble ally.
But then, its not your fault, perhaps realizing what was on the others mind, Demian made an effort at conciliation While my disgrace was through my own foolishness and pride. I could have stayed there otherwise, you see. Whereas you, being a priest, could not possibly have survived what the Tsar did to the Church. Not at the court, not as a man of power.
Ostap perked up and looked around cautiously. What do you mean? he asked, wary of Demians callous tone.
Demian snorted. Jeremias is a fool. No, but he is foolish without being holy; he is just an old man who does not care to think about the Church outside of what the Tsar himself expects of him. He was a good choice, for the Tsar.
Ostap squinted, then nodded. Perhaps so, he said. It is not just my fate that I complain about here, my friend. That is of little consequence I dont have much time left on this world, I think, and even if I did I still would like to live them out in peace. But Gennadiy would never have allowed everything he we have worked for to fall apart like this. And I still think it is unfortunate that the Tsar listens to advisors who tell him to destroy the power of the Church, for the power of the Church props up the Tsar himself.
Demian laughed. Or have you forgotten, good friend Ostap, that I myself was one of those advisors?
Not at all, replied Ostap, a little sore. But see how you are downcast now. I will not say anything about you or the dead; but those who lie to the Tsar now seek after power for themselves, and will attack the dyaks as well as the popes.
Indeed, smirked Demian, much to Ostaps confusion.
Havent you said as much yourself? the former priest demanded. While we loyal servants of the Tsar quarreled among each other, people like the traitor scion of the Koshkiny-Zakharyiny deceived the Sovereign for their selfish gain and to the detriment of the Russian land.
Demian shrugged. That little cur Roman was just that. And this, he added amusedly, is hardly the moral that most of the good people at the inn took from my tale. Have you not heard? It is my patron that they blame, and if not him, then yours. Them and their allies; the elder Koshkin-Zakharyin, Prince Yaroslavskiy, the old Prince Obolenskiy
Ostap fell silent.
surely they misunderstood, he mumbled finally.
Indeed they do, but so do you, Demian said with a smile. And once again commenced his story only this time it was different, with less flair and a stronger sense of... bitterness.
Yes, after his success in the matter of Polotsk, Roman Yuryevich Koshkin-Zakharyin did indeed become brash and overconfident. He felt his power increase, and he became drunk with it, starting to make unreasonable demands and advance his friends to positions unearned either by descent or by merit. The common courtiers, as well as people like myself found him a terrible pest, and rejoiced when he was checked by his father. The old Koshkin-Zakharyin was willing to turn a blind eye to most of his sons villainy, but not when it threatened to start a quarrel with Prince Pyotr Vasilyevich, the old Obolenskiy the other major opponent of your late patron after Feodors death, as you must recall, and the man in whose service I was in at the time. So Yuri Zakharyevich reined his son in when the latter tried to take command of the army at Smolensk for himself, and demanded that he submit to his ally, becoming his second in command.
And indeed, there was no falsehood in that Romka the Dog then proceeded to betray us to Glinski out of spite, though I would not say that he was all that important in the end. Glinski is a formidable general, after all; and he had other spies. Still, while Roman was undermining Obolenskiy, the Poles managed to attack Smolensk, and we had only barely kept it from falling without a long siege. Roman still escaped only to die in a later battle on the Polish side, but not before having brought shame to his fathers name.
But that, Demian added quickly before Ostap could say anything, was the only case where one man actually managed to fool the Tsar. And even he failed to change anything, in the end. Not that he even knew what he was doing.
Whatever do you mean! Ostap demanded somewhat indignantly.
Demian laughed bitterly. Everything else, both before and after, all happened according to the Tsars plans. They who thought they had deceived him and controlled him he let them and everyone else think it was so. But our young ruler is more wise and cunning than anyone would have expected; truly, he is even more like his grandfather than his grandfather himself ever was. Ioann the Great and the Terrible, Demian chuckled. But Demetrius is different from him in one regard only. He is less cautious; more brash. His ambitions will go much further. And that is exactly why he lets everyone think he is being fooled.
Ostap listened silently as Demian went on. The Caretakers, foremost above them our two respective patrons, were clever and powerful, but the Tsar was an eager pupil. He did not need to play them against each other they did it all for him, and as long as they continued to disagree with each other so allowing him to take the final decision, he felt he lost nothing from letting them keep up the pretense, knowing that the people of his court would let their guard down more around a weak and suggestible Sovereign, especially while he had no reliable faction of his own that would interpret his desires as he wished without regard for the Latins or the Church. But as he came into his own, and as his childhood friends and favoured generals showed their worth as well, he had less and less need for his meddling mentors. So he led them to clash again and again over various matters, weakening the factions of the old court while his own friends rose to power.
Like the traitor? was all that Ostap dared to ask.
He was just one of the people he was trying to rely on then. Oh, of course he also relied on older people like Prince Yaroslavskiy, who in spite of his lineage has always been a great warrior and a nonexistent courtier. And of course there was the young Prince Obolenskiy, Andrey Petrovich. But now, as you can see, their age is past just like ours, Demian grinned, this thought obviously giving him a small amount of satisfaction. To be sure, the Tsar still uses them, but they are clearly being edged out by a new group, taught to speak and write Latin and ignore the old noble lineages.
He continued his story, however, adding new details to what he had already said at the inn. Yes, Romans betrayal was unexpected and it weakened Smolensk. And Glinskis thrust in general was stronger than the Tsar had expected. But everything else happened on his decree. The Poles had trapped themselves, in spite of all of their successes, while the Tsar seized Minsk. If our Sovereign had wanted to, he could have continued the war, destroyed Glinski and conquered all lands up to Vistula.
Then why didnt he?
Demian shrugged. Who knows? Though I think there was a good reason he stopped short of finishing the unification of his ancestral lands. Unlike his grandfather, he has higher aims than that. Given the rumours from the south
perhaps he took Feodor Kuritsyns advice after all, but in reverse. Poland might yet be used against the Turks, or to keep the Roman Caesar busy.
So then, friend Demian
Ostap suddenly understood what this man was talking about. You are saying that in the matter of Smolensk and Galicia, and in the matter of the Church, and everywhere else, the Tsar had acted with guile to increase his personal power?
Yes.
But if it is to claim the Roman title for good, and to defend Russia and smite the heathens, then is it not all for the best?
It is, Demian said politely.
Ostap stopped, confused again. How are you sure of what is on the Tsars mind, however, if he is so cunning?
He told me, said Demian with a bitter half-smile. Or rather, I told him half of it when I first realized it, and he told me the rest before sending me into my exile. Without any false modesty, I think I could have been another Feodor Kuritsyn otherwise. I seemed to have the Tsars ear on the foreign matters when we were carving up Russian lands with the Devil, Mikhail Glinski. But I dont think he needed another Feodor Kuritsyn either, now.
So I see, said Ostap the Bald, his mind heavy with thought.
But why, he asked finally, did he let you live so freely here, if you know such things? Would he not be displeased to learn of what you speak? Even if you lied to the people in the inn
The world loves to be deceived, Demian interrupted with a quote.
You still told me all this.
So what? We are nothing now; any influence we might have had is gone. Even if I told all this to the people in the inn, and was not laughed out of the room, hardly anything could be done from here to protest the Tsars injustice. And besides, it is as you have said. Everything he did was for the best. Why would anyone try and rise against him now? All that there is left for us is to watch, he concluded, but Ostap could hear a note of uncertainty in his old rivals voice. Uncertainty
or perhaps regret?
Demian the Red had been Feodor Kuritsyns most able agent and most apt pupil. For years he hid truths from his patrons enemies and found them for him; he killed, deceived, incited and undermined. He had led an eventful life
but he was not yet old, and not completely broken as he almost seemed to be at the inn.
Could it be, Ostap wondered, that Demian the Gray could still have some kind of plan?
Player-wise.
