Read Darker Jewels for Free Online

years, and I have seen the Czar change. Don’t pretend that he is the same man he was three years ago. I know what he has become, and so do you. You puzzle me, refusing as you do to accept that the Czar is crazed. Especially since you have sent dispatches to Istvan Bathory.”
    This stopped him. “Never!” Anastasi was purple with rage and he made himself put distance between him and his guest. “What calumny is this?”
    “You sent word to King Istvan of Poland. Last summer. It was carried by merchants.” He said it with great satisfaction, smiling at Anastasi’s wrath. “What was in that letter, I wonder? And why did you send it? What did you hope to achieve from it? Were you seeking an ally? They say that Poland wishes to unite with Russia so that the Ottomites may be driven back into Asia. Was that your purpose? To arrange such a—”
    “It would be treason to suggest such a thing to Istvan Bathory. I would never betray Czar Ivan. It is a lie.” His hands closed convulsively and his eyes smoldered, his shoulders hunched. “If you repeat your suspicions, I will denounce you as a spy. They will flay you for that.”
    “They might do that in any case, if your Czar takes the notion. It could happen to anyone. He has the power to order your ruin and death, does he not? Now that he has lost his wits, his caprice is endless.” Nikodemios examined the backs of his hands as if there were hidden treasures there. “When men are crazed, they think unaccountable things.”
    He knew that he should not answer these charges, that he should summon the guards and have the Greek taken to prison, but he thought of his cousin, and recklessly he said, “Crazed or not, he is Czar. He is our strength against the Tartars and the Poles and the Swedes. If the Poles were to advance now, Czar Ivan would rally his men and his powers. He would lead us to victory.”
    “No man would follow him, not the way he is. The soldiers would hear him rave and they would not lift their swords to fight. No troops, not Rus, not Slavs, not Tartars, would follow him now. They would fear for their lives, and with cause.” Nikodemios directed his gaze at Shuisky’s feet. “Do you think it possible his heir could manage to lead the army?”
    “There are many leaders the Little Father might select to lead the army. He need not send his only living son.” He stood straighter. “I would welcome command.”
    Nikodemios laughed, his tone nasty. “I am certain you would. And the Czar would have to be more insane than he already is to give it to you. He would find your sword at his throat before the evening Mass.” His laughter turned to a malign chuckle. “Do not protest your loyalty again, Duke. I know what you seek. You seek the sceptre and crown. You intend to rule. That is the goal of all Shuiskys.”
    “It is my wish to serve the throne,” Anastasi insisted, this time with less heat than before, and more craftiness, his mercurial temperament playing with the Greek messenger, enjoying his confusion as it became desperation.
    “Though Feodor Ivanovich rings bells and avoids his wife, you intend to support the throne? When Feodor is Czar?” He rose from the chair. “When you come to your senses, Duke, inform me of it. Jerusalem is the best ally you will find in these uneasy times. Your cousin is aware of that if you are not. And if you intend to look higher, you will need Jerusalem with you, or you will fall. For as long as the Church prevails, Jerusalem will be a power to reckon with in Moscovy.”
    “The power of the Czar is greater, and Ivan Grosny is worthy of wielding it,” said Shuisky, deliberately using Ivan’s nickname—Grosny: awe-inspiring.
    “Grosny. Perhaps once. But no longer, I think.” He fingered the fur lining of his cloak. “Is caressing jewels so much different than ringing bells?” Nikodemios inquired sarcastically. “Be grateful that Istvan Bathory has not advanced any farther than he has. The hope you place in