1636:The Kremlin games

Chapter 68

“Back,” Boris said softly. “Get back.”

Pavel pulled his head away from the alley’s mouth. “We can’t go that way, Papa.”

“Then we’ll turn back and try another. We’ve got to get home to your mother and get her out of here.”

Boris and Pavel had rushed home, taking as many back ways as possible. There was danger on the major streets of Moscow, and it wasn’t just the burning buildings. Gunshots were frequent.

When they reached the house, Mariya had already packed. An old Moscow hand, she’d smelled the smoke and heard the shots. Fire was never a good thing in wooden Moscow, which had burned and arose from its own ashes numerous times.

“What started it this time?” Mariya asked.

“The patriarch is dead and there are crazy rumors making the rounds,” Boris said. “But they all seem to agree that the czar is planning to free the serfs.”

“He’d never do it,” Mariya said.

“I don’t know,” Boris said. “He’s been influenced a lot by the up-timers and the way they feel about serfdom is totally unreasonable.” Boris shook his head. “But it doesn’t matter now. Get the bags out to the carriage.”

“Where are we going, Papa?”

“You and your mother are going home to the village. On your way, stop by the Dacha and pick up Ivan.”

“You think it’s that bad?” Mariya asked.

“Yes. This isn’t just a riot. This is politics,” Boris said.

“I don’t understand,” Pavel said, somewhat apologetically.

“That’s because you don’t remember the Time of Troubles,” his mother explained. “ Dvoriane serve Russia and stay out of politics. Especially at times like these.”

“But surely not this time. This time the dvoriane are involved and the boyars’ sons as well. This is about the serfs and the limited year. Our friends and our neighbors are involved. Many of them could lose everything if their serfs run off looking for gold-”

Suddenly Pavel found himself against the wall with his father’s hand around his throat. Pavel was a fairly tall young man, taking more after his mother than his father. He was also fairly quick, but he had been looking right at Papa and hadn’t even seen him move.

“Yes,” Boris said. “And whoever wins, a lot of them are going to die in the next few days and weeks. The ones who have made too much noise. Someone is giving the dvoriane enough rope to hang ourselves. The bureaus are going to be purged. That includes friends of ours, people we have known for years. But it’s not going to include your mother or your brothers or you. Not if I can help it. We don’t stay out of politics because we don’t care, boy. We stay out of politics to stay alive. And I’ll tell you something else. Whoever wins, it won’t be the serfs and it won’t be the dvoriane, the boyars’ sons or the Streltzi. It will be a faction of the high families. And any dvoriane who gets involved will lose… even if they are on the winning side this time.”

Pavel looked at his mother but she was looking back at him just as hard-eyed as his father. “You don’t remember what it was like when we had three czars in as many weeks, Pavel. But I do and your papa does.”

“Now, are you going to do what I tell you to?” Boris asked and Pavel felt his father’s fingers tighten around his throat. Pavel nodded.

Then his father released him and went on as though nothing had happened. “On the way, you pick up Ivan. Thank God that two of your brothers are in Germany already. If Natasha asks what’s happening, tell her but don’t dally to do it. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Dacha is targeted in the next few days.”

Boris’ estimate was off. When Pavel and Mariya passed the Dacha there were troops already there. In fact, there were troops at the Dacha before the riot was well started.

After seeing his wife and son off, Boris went back to the office. This was a time to be precisely where you were supposed to be and easy to find-so people wouldn’t think you were somewhere you weren’t supposed to be, doing something you shouldn’t.

By the time he got to the office, several of his more experienced people were already there. “Gregori, I need you to sanitize our records.”

“You think we’re going to get inspected?” Gregori asked, then blushed for such a silly question.

“Of course we will. Every bureau in Russia is going to get inspected after this. Oh… and Gregori… not too sanitized.”

Gregori smiled. It was still a rather nervous smile, but at least it was the smile of a man who knew what he had to do. The way these things went, the inspectors would keep looking until they found something. It was best to leave them something minor to find.

“I’m sorry,” Colonel Shuvalov said politely. “But I have my orders from the Boyar Duma.”

From the Boyar Duma, Natasha noted. Not from the czar or from the Assembly of the Land. Just the Boyar Duma. The cabinet and the bureau heads had taken over the government. The troops, she was told, were there for the protection of the Dacha. Natasha also noted that the colonel was a member of the Sheremetev faction at court. Which wasn’t good news. The takeover of the Dacha was amazingly anticlimactic, certainly for most of the people living and working there. From the start, the majority of the workers and researchers had been from the dvoriane and the deti boyars. Including a couple of boyars’ sons. Oh, there were a few peasants who had, through talent and work, made a place for themselves among the researchers. Anya and a few others. And more Streltzi, especially where craftsmanship was needed. But the cultural outlook of the Dacha was that of the dvoriane: do your job and stay away from politics. At least court politics… the bureaus had their own.

Unfortunately, that option wasn’t really available to Natasha. What protected her was the value of the Dacha itself. That, and keeping her silence. Changes were happening all over. The winners were moving their family members into positions of greater influence.