by Eric Flint
Stefan looked up, saw a delegation entering the hospital tent and wondered what was going on. They came over to him and Stefan started to get scared. This was Prince Togym and someone even more powerful…and what looked to be a Russian noble. A colonel by his collar tab. He didn’t have the dog head on his other collar, but he did have the crest of the family Shuvalov embroidered on his tabard. And Stefan knew that the Shuvalov family, like the Utkin family, were retainers of the Sheremetevs. Suddenly it clicked “You’re Colonel Shuvalov. What are you doing here? Oh. You’re why they attacked.”
“I don’t believe I know you, Captain. What’s your family?”
“Czar Mikhail ennobled me after the battle at Irina Way. I’m Stefan Andreevich Ruzukov.”
“And you own a factory that makes AK3s.”
This was apparently an argument between lords that a serf or prospective slave didn’t want to get in the middle of. But Stefan was in it now, with nothing more to lose. “I am part owner along with my wife, Father Yulian, Izabella Utkin, and Alexander Nikolayevich Volkov. We own a factory that can make AK3s and AK4s. Up till the attack, we were making chamber clips for the AK4.7s. The factory across the street was making the caps.”
This clearly wasn’t something that Colonel Shuvalov was happy to hear, and that pleased Stefan well enough. “If you hadn’t finagled them into attacking Ufa, we could have been making AKs for them by now.”
“That’s ridiculous. You don’t have the tools, or the tools to build the tools.”
Now at least they were in territory that Stefan understood. “A lot of the people from Murom followed Princess Natasha to Ufa, and even more from the Dacha. And they used riverboats so they could carry a lot. In the first weeks after Czar Mikhail escaped, there were several trips back and forth. We were still on the road while that was happening and I only heard about it secondhand, but I know it happened because there was already a steam engine-powered induction furnace ready to go when we started up our factory. There’s an even bigger industrial quarter in Kazan.”
“Well, at least it was honest error rather than lies that led us to attack Ufa,” offered Togym with a smile.
Colonel Shuvalov looked like he wanted to kill someone—Togym by preference, but Stefan in a pinch. “It doesn’t matter now anyway. It’s too late…” Shuvalov stopped, and even Stefan who was no good at all at this sort of thing realized that he had only opened his mouth to exchange feet.
“I don’t know. Maybe you can work something out. What will it cost you to send an embassy?” Stefan said.
“What indeed?” asked Togym.
“Director-General Sheremetev will not be pleased. It could disrupt the arrangement you have with Moscow and leave you with nothing.”
“Or we might get a better offer if there is another bidder in the market,” Togym said.
“What do you think, captain of soldiers? Will your czar make peace with me at this late date?” Salqam-Jangir Khan asked.
Stefan looked at the young man, who was more richly dressed than anyone, and was working just a bit too hard at looking wise and resolute. “I can’t speak for Czar Mikhail, but he is a wise czar. It’s worth trying, I think.” Stefan wanted to explain that from all he had seen Czar Mikhail was a great man who was working hard to build a nation of free people, and that he would find a way out of this mess for all of them. Stefan believed that, even though the czar had only said a few words in his presence. Czar Mikhail had mostly sat back and let others debate the issues till it was settled, but that seemed the wisest course to Stefan. Unfortunately, Stefan knew that if he tried to explain, it would come out a jumbled mess. So he kept quiet after the bare statement.
“I will consider this, and decide,” Salqam-Jangir Khan said, then turned and walked out of the tent.
Togym looked over at Colonel Shuvalov with what had to be the meanest smile Stefan had ever seen in his life.
The colonel glared back at him for a moment, gave Stefan a threatening glance, then turned and stormed out of the tent.
Stefan looked back at Togym and smiled. This might work out.
“Prince Togym,” said the doctor who had been standing in the background in case he was needed, “you might want to have the outlander watched. Now would be a good time for him to leave, perhaps leaving knives in a few backs on his way out.”
Togym nodded. “That’s worth considering.” Then he left.
“Togym, I’m inclined to try your approach,” Salqam-Jangir Khan said.
The room was full of courtiers and officers, and there was a not-quite sigh of relief at this. The attack on Ufa had proven much more expensive than anyone had expected. The major exception to that collective sigh was Colonel Leontii Shuvalov, who hadn’t made a run for it in the night. He was apparently planning to play the game to checkmate.
“But I still doubt that they will treat with us after we attacked them,” Salqam added.
“We have the perfect gift for them, Great Khan.” Togym hooked a finger at Colonel Shuvalov. “Clear proof that Director-General Sheremetev is plotting against the true and legitimate czar.”
Shuvalov started to say something then, but Salqam-Jangir Khan made a sharp gesture and the guards drew their swords. Shuvalov was, perforce, silent.
Salqam-Jangir Khan nodded at Togym. “We shall also return them the prisoners as a gesture of goodwill.” That was a large gesture. Most of the four hundred seventeen men who held the line had survived. One hundred fifty-two had died on the field, or later of their wounds. But five hundred seventeen more had been captured, hale or wounded, before they could get back to the barricades. That left them with a total of seven hundred eighty-two prisoners, including forty-three officers who might bring significant ransoms. The not quite sigh of relief was replaced with a not quite audible groan of dismay. Even with the khan taking the lion’s share, that was a fortune. Not enough to pay for their losses in retainers, horses, and equipment…but it certainly would have helped.
Togym couldn’t help a visible wince. The rest was bad enough, but in Stefan they had an artisan who could build them the guns they had to have even if the peace talks failed completely. He started to speak, then saw Salqam-Jangir Khan looking at him. Apparently he still wasn’t forgiven for his hesitancy on that first day.
“We will carry this approach through. No half measures or…”
“Great Khan,” said Shuvalov, “first send an embassy under a flag of truce, find out if there is any real hope of peace before you sacrifice so much advantage.”
It was a brave thing to say. Speaking at all under the circumstances took more than a little courage. On the other hand, what did the colonel have to lose? Togym decided to speak. “Colonel Shuvalov is right in this, I think.”
Salqam-Jangir Khan looked over at Togym. “Always so cautious, Cousin. Very well.”
Constitutional Convention, Ufa
“The states must be allowed their own armies,” said Yermak Fedov. “Otherwise, in a generation, the federal government will own us all.”
“But that’s what led to the American Civil War,” offered up Filip Pavlovich Tupikov. “The ultimate must be the federal government.”
“I agree with Yermak on this one,” Brandy Bates said. “The ultimate authority must be the people, and an armed populace will keep that firmly in the minds of both the government and the people.”
“Not the czar?” asked Yermak.
“No, not the czar, though he acts as a symbol for the nation,” Brandy said. “Vladimir and I talked about this a lot back in Grantville and on the ship. And we talked to Czar Mikhail about it after we got here. The oaths will be sworn to the czar and the constitution. The constitution will give the czar and all the future czars certain rights and prerogatives, but Czar Mikhail—of his own will and for the good of the people—is conceding the right to rule themselves to the people of Russia and their posterity, now and for all time.”
Yermak nodded respectfully, but Filip wasn’t through.
“In tha
t case, what is there for the states to be concerned about?”
Brandy was about to answer, but there was a knock at the door which was immediately opened and a messenger stepped through. He turned to the president of the convention and said, “There is a delegation from the Kazakhs approaching under a flag of truce. Czar Mikhail asks, if they may be spared, that Brandy Bates and Vladimir Gorchakov join him.”
It was noted by the entire convention that General Izmailov wasn’t asked to attend. Apparently, all wasn’t yet forgiven for the debacle of the sally.
At the barricades across Irina Way, they met the delegation.
“That is Prince Togym, the Kazakh khan’s first cousin and senior advisor,” Colonel Buturlin said. “I don’t recognize the other two.”
Czar Mikhail looked at the other men and recognized them, in kind if not as individuals. The one on the left looked to be in his twenties. Probably a personal friend of the khan; he was about the right age. At a guess, he would keep his mouth shut and then report back to the khan on what happened. There was also an older man, and Mikhail figured that he was probably not of the same court faction as Togym.
Bernie waved and some of the men started pulling apart the barricade. It took a few minutes and everyone waited while it was done, then they rode through and introductions were made. The young one was Count Nazar, and the old one was Count Tauke. There were a half dozen soldiers, but they weren’t introduced.
“Why don’t we go to the kremlin and find a comfortable place to sit and talk,” Mikhail offered, testing the waters. If they agreed to go into the fortress, they would be putting themselves in his power, not that they weren’t already. But it would indicate another layer of either trust or desperation.
Togym’s smile was sardonic as he agreed. So, at least on the part of the delegation, it was desperation.
This was one of the small conference rooms in the Ufa kremlin, and had been built since Czar Mikhail arrived. It had actual glass windows. They weren’t plate glass, but blown glass, and they were made of lots of small panes, but they were actual windows that let the sunlight in and had the room warm even today, without a fire. There was also an indoor toilet in the next room. It was different from what their guests had seen before, and Bernie made a point of showing them all the amenities. Mikhail knew why. These were inducements, examples of the advantages of joining the United States of Russia.
“Where does it go, though?” asked Nazar.
“There are pipes that take it to a brick-lined covered hole called a septic tank that holds it until the solids settle. Then the liquid goes into a leach field…”
“Ahem…Perhaps we can discuss waste management another time,” Czar Mikhail suggested. “It’s only one of the new techniques brought by the up-timers. And while I grant that it’s an important one in the fight against disease, we are here to talk about making peace. At least, I hope we are, or we’re all wasting our time.” He looked pointedly at the three emissaries.
Togym nodded, and Czar Mikhail waved them to chairs at one end of the long conference table in the room.
Czar Mikhail sat in the rather ornate chair at the other end of the table and Bernie sat at the czar’s right. Vladimir sat at his left, and Brandy and Natasha sat in the next seats. Colonel Buturlin sat on Natasha’s other side. A young man came in and sat at a small desk against the wall, and set up with pen and paper. He would be taking down the meeting in shorthand.
Mikhail looked down the table and said, “You asked for this meeting. Why don’t you start?”
“The Great Salqam-Jangir Khan is willing to consider calling off the attack if an adequate tribute is forthcoming,” Count Tauke suggested belligerently before Togym could say anything.
Mikhail moved his eyes from Count Tauke to Prince Togym, then back.
Then Vladimir said, “Well, I guess we’re done here. Thanks for your time. The guards will show you the way out.”
Bernie checked his watch. “We can get back to the debate on interstate taxation if we hurry.”
“Do we have to?” Brandy complained. But she was standing up as she said it.
“Wait.” It was the kid Nazar who broke. But apparently only because he was quicker to respond than Togym.
Vladimir, who had started to rise like the meeting was over, sat back down. Then—pointedly ignoring Count Tauke—he said, “Count Nazar, if your khan has anything substantive to offer, we are happy to listen. We want peace. But we were attacked without warning.”
“You sit in the territory of the Kazakh Khanate,” Count Tauke said.
“Quiet!” Togym said. “This hasn’t been part of the Kazakh lands for eighty years and you know it.” Then he turned back to Czar Mikhail. “Still, the fact is that we control the land around Ufa. And if taking the city would be expensive, it is not beyond our means. Director-General Sheremetev offers us ten thousand AK3s and a hundred thousand chambers for aiding him in removing you. What can you offer us to counter his offer?”
“That assumes that you can take Ufa,” Colonel Buturlin said. “The truth is, you can’t. We have plenty of powder and shot. We have a factory manufacturing caps. We have built and improved the barricades, and we can hold this city if we need to till the spring thaws and then we will have access to resupply and reinforcement by way of the rivers.”
“But you can’t meet us on the open field,” offered Count Nazar.
“Not at the moment. But those relief ships will be bringing gulyay-gorod,” Bernie said. “We’ve talked to General Tim and Colonel Ivan Maslov, and they agree that we will be able to repeat the Battle of Rzhev once we have access to the new gulyay-gorod.”
“And in the meantime, we can lay waste to the countryside,” Prince Togym pointed out.
“Yes,” Czar Mikhail said. “You can hurt us, but we will still be here when the ice melts and we will pay back every burned village with two of yours. Is that what your khan wants? We ravaged, you destroyed, and the traitor Sheremetev laughing at us all?”
“No. But we must gain something out of this. With the Zunghar Khanate and Erdenebaatar Khan to our east, we have to have those rifles.”
“Well, you won’t get them by attacking us,” said Colonel Buturlin, “but you might get them by allying with us.”
“How so? We should not face your AK4s, but Sheremetev’s?” Count Nazar asked.
“Everyone is working out how the new weapons affect tactics,” Bernie said. “According to Tim, we are somewhere between the American Civil War and World War I, with the strategic situation complicated by the fact that we don’t have nearly the population density to support something like the Maginot Line.” That brought nothing but looks of confusion. “Two wars that were fought in that other history, both of them very, very bloody. What it amounts to, at least in Russia, is that hard points and fortification are going to be so expensive to take that it’s effectively impossible. But there aren’t enough people to be able to hold a line that covers the country and blocks all attack…”
“Enough, Bernie,” Czar Mikhail said.
“Rather more than enough,” added Vladimir. Then he looked back at the emissaries. “To our allies, we are willing to share the knowledge of the future and all that it entails. But not to enemies encamped on our lands.”
It was a long meeting, but gradually they reached a group of compromises. Czar Mikhail offered to allow Salqam-Jangir Khan or his representative to sit in on the constitutional convention, without obligating him to join the United States of Russia if he decided not to.
Prince Togym sounded doubtful, but agreed to pass on the offer.
April 12, 1637
It was no small party that headed for the barricade under flag of truce the next morning. Salqam-Jangir Khan, his bodyguards and some three hundred ambulatory prisoners were coming along behind. As soon as they reached the barricade, Salqam-Jangir Khan made it clear that there were more prisoners, but they would need help to move them.
Tami Simmons was called and immediately offered to g
o and examine the patients. By now Tami had a staff of medical people, some from the Dacha or Murom, but quite a few doctors, apothecaries and midwives from all over Russia. In a way, the rescue of Czar Mikhail had been Tami’s release from a gilded cage. She had been the personal physician of the czar’s family, not a practicing nurse. That position had limited her access to other medical practitioners even before the royal family was moved to the hunting lodge. After that, she and her family hadn’t even seen anyone except the czar’s family and the guards till the rescue. But once they arrived at Ufa, Tami found herself in a situation something like Bernie Zeppi right after he arrived at the Dacha. It was more specialized and Tami knew more than Bernie had, but it was very much one long open-book test as the down-time medics tried to pump her brain dry of every medical fact available. Combined with the locals and the refugees coming in with all manner of ailments, it was like nine months in a MASH unit combined with a medical university, and Tami was due some down time.
What she got was several hundred wounded from both sides, and the opportunity to become a surgeon. She wasn’t working alone. The Kazakh had excellent doctors, at least by seventeenth-century standards. But there were a lot of infected wounds to deal with after the ceasefire. Tami worked eighteen- to twenty-hour days, but she and her staff saved a lot of limbs and even more lives.
Stefan recognized Tami as soon as she entered the makeshift hospital. She was well known in Ufa and an acquaintance of his wife, as well as Izabella’s midwife. She examined him and washed his arm in alcohol, then had the wound reopened and washed in alcohol. It wasn’t pleasant but it probably saved his left arm, though not the full use of it. After that, he was shipped back to Ufa to convalesce in his own bed. He was consulted by both the Kazakhs and the government on the ability to produce actual AKs in Ufa. “It can be done, but it will take a while, especially with the damage done by the attack,” he told Togym.