[Vanilla MIITW]Rumblings in the North: A Russian Tale of Booze and Ego

[Rex Germanius]

Chapter Seven

In the smouldering ruins of Helsinki, Ysevolod sat writing a letter.


'Dear Son, after a lengthy battle we have emerged victorious over the Finns. We lost many valorous and brave men today, but every man that died took ten with him.'


He paused to nonchalantly flick a chunk of gore off his shoulder.


'I myself slew twenty men at least.They resisted fiercely at first, but retreated following the death of their commander. They rallied on the village green for a last stand, though.'


The sounds of drunken rape and pillaging drifted into the tent.


'The army is celebrating the victory –a triumph well-deserved. The Finns cower in abject terror, fearing our whims and sudden caprices. Only the women and children remain alive; all the men have been slaughtered. '


He yawned and stretched to a symphony of popping joints.


'Conquering fatigues me, but word has reached me of events in Novgorod: the assembly is impatient for more action. What can war but endless war breed? Nevertheless, their appetite for blood must be satiated. Our next target is Smolensk.After we firmly establish control here, we'll march south to the edge of our territory and link forces. Against our combined might, no town can stand secure.'


An aide-de-camp entered bearing a chalice shaped suspiciously like a human skull containing a crimson liquid.


'Let God help us in this holy endeavour. Your father, the Duke.'


He signed the last line with a characteristic flourish.


“Thank you,” he said, accepting the vessel.


“To health,” he toasted and quaffed deeply.

[Rex Germanius]

Chapter Eight

A year passed uneventfully. After securing the Baltic trade-routes, the Duke sent word to his sons to consolidate power over the recently won territory. Vladimir and Mikhail immediately commenced several ambitious construction projects- draining marshes for farmland and improving the road network not least among them. Ysevolod himself rested in moderate luxury, whiling away the hours between his light administrative duties by tallying the number of diamonds and rubies studded in his sceptre. He had reached 1,309 precious gems before losing count. But after some months rebuilding and expanding Helsinki, the daily routine of governing a sordid hovel at the edge of the inhabitable world lost its zest. Worse yet, a viciously frigid winter swept down from the north and buried the town under a four-foot blanket of snow. All work screeched to a halt.


One night, a half-frozen messenger rode into town conveying a letter for the Duke. Huddled by a sputtering candle, Ysevolod broke the seal and read the dispatch. A faint smile spread slowly across his face. He stood up, throwing off his mantle despite the biting cold, and barked an order to his steward to ready his fastest sleigh. Outside, down deserted, frosty streets, an arctic wind howled. Inside, a fiery determination burned in defiance. As the Duke retired for the night, a fresh resolution riveted itself in his mind. The next morning, he departed for Novgorod.


In two short weeks, Ysevolod completed a journey normally requiring a few months. Across desolate wastelands and through hushed forests, he sleighed day and night,halting only to exchange horses and collect victuals. Sleep briefly visited but vanished like a wisp of smoke after an ephemeral rest.The driver - a burly veteran of hard roads - faltered, but the Duke held firm, eyes welded to his destination. Days flew past, blurring together, until the exhausted coachman cried in hoarse tones that Novgorod lay just ten miles ahead.


Vladimir rushed into the reception hall just as the Duke strode through the arched entry. Vladimir knew his father advocated speed but Ysevolod's unexpected arrival surprised even him.


"Father," he cried, then snapped to attention after recalling the Duke's iron discipline, "We weren't expecting you so soon."


The Duke regarded him silently, like a general reviewing his troops.


Vladimir broke the uncomfortable silence.


"Er. The army awaits your orders,father."


The Duke seemed satisfied.


"Good. I'm off to have my breakfast, which I trust you've had prepared."


Vladimir sighed in relief as Duke marched off in the direction of his chambers. But he stopped abruptly at the door.


"Oh, and Vladimir? Call the Councillors in around noon. I think we need to discus some of the letters they've sent about you."

[Me, Myself and I]

Nice AAR I really like your dialogue.

[Rex Germanius]

Nice AAR I really like your dialogue.

Thanks.

[Rex Germanius]

Chapter Nine

By noon, the city fathers had assembled. Sombre men dressed in black filed into the room and occupied positions on one side of the table. Vladimir stood before them defiantly. Under his cloak, perspiration soaked his tunic. The Councillors regarded him in silence. The sound of heavy footsteps announced the arrival of the Duke. Without a glance at his son, he took the central seat and buried himself in paperwork. Sweat stains blossomed under Vladimir's arms.


After an uncomfortable five minutes,Ysevolod's head jerked up.


"It's time to begin."


The hush deepened. The Duke continued.


"You, Vladimir, son of Ysevolod,Governor Emeritus, stand accused of flagrant ineptitude, accepting bribes and misappropriation of public funds. How do you plead?"


Vladimir swallowed the lump forming in his throat.


"Not guilty."


Ysevolod scrutinised him. Vladimir averted his eyes, unable to meet his father's gaze.


"The prosecution will now call up their witnesses."


A shifty man in red robes stepped forward and called the first witness. A merchant. The porcine trader oozed into the room, bowed obsequiously to the Council, and proceeded to defame, slander and outright lampoon Vladimir. He only stopped short of insulting his lineage after spotting the Duke. The flow of bile eventually dried up and he shuffled to the side. The next witness was called. Another merchant. Soon, a parade of merchants,ship-owners and bankers - in fact, everyone subject to Vladimir's new taxes - marched into the room and hurled abuse at the defendant. The rear guard of the column - the oldest resident in town and rumoured to be the richest - wheezed the last drop of venom and hobbled to his compatriots. The red-robed man yielded the floor to the defence.


"The defence will now call up their witnesses."


All eyes swivelled to Vladimir. The air chilled despite the fiery braziers ringing the room. His mind raced.Who could he turn to? Zub? He was hundreds of miles away, basking in Constantinople. Anyone else? No. Even his subordinate administrators despised him. A sudden thought stuck him.


He cleared his throat.


"The defence calls in a man on the street."


"The defence what?"


Vladimir remained firm.


"Send the bailiff out in the street and call in a passer-by. Anybody'll do."


A murmur arose from the Council. The Duke leaned forward.


"This is highly irregular, but, to my knowledge, it's within the rules."


He waved his hand toward the bailiff.It might have been a trick of the light, but Vladimir saw his father wink. A few minutes later, the bailiff returned followed by a workman. He bowed slightly, regarding the court warily.


"What might you be wanting, sirs?"


The clerk of the court stood up.


"Name?"


"Pytor Ivanovitch."


"Place of residence?"


"What?"


"Where do you live?"


"Oh. The Three Saints Inn, on Krazny Prospekt."


"Occupation?"


"If you mean job, I work as a hostler at the inn."


The clerk sat down and recorded the facts. He looked up.


"Proceed."


The hostler shifted uneasily. He started to wish he'd cleaned the horse manure off his boots at the door. Vladimir chimed in.


"The defence will now begin its cross-examination."


He turned to the witness.


"Pytor Ivanovitch, how often do you use the new bridge near the south end of town?"


"Practically every day, sir."


"How often do people you know use the bridge?"


"Just as much. The bridge has cut the trip from the south gate to the market almost in half. A lot of the farmers and pedlars coming through say it's been a real boon to trade."


"What do they say about the new roads?"


"Well, most of everybody love s'em. The old roads were rutted and bumpy in the best weather. When it rained, they were rivers of mud. Now, they're passable in most weather."


"What do they say about the new port?"


Pytor Ivanovitch laughed nervously.
"What don't they say about the new port? The whole town's talking about it! Hundreds of ships come and go every day loaded to the deck with riches. The port used to be a poor fishing village. Now it's a town in its own right."


"Thank you,Pytor Ivanovitch. The defence has finished cross-examining the witness."


"Will the prosecution question the witness?" the Duke asked. The red-robed lawyer shook his head.


"If both the defence and prosecution are finished, the court is ready to hear the closing statements."


The lawyer stepped forward.


"This is an open-and-shut case. The defendant is clearly guilty as charged. The testimony presented by the most respected and upstanding citizens of this town amply proves that he is a embezzler, a crook and an incompetent. That is all the evidence that is needed."


He yielded the floor. Vladimir braced for the final fight.


"If building new roads is a sign of fecklessness, then I'm truly incompetent. If building a new port is embezzling, then I am truly a thief. If bolstering commerce - the lifeblood of this city - is a crime, then I'm the worst offender in Novgorod. I confess entirely: I admit to improving the infrastructure, to aiding trade, to raising the quality of life for every citizen of Novgorod. I stand guilty as charged. The defence rests."


The council retired for deliberation. For over an hour, the court waited tensely until finally the council marched in. The Duke stepped to the centre of theroom.


"The Council is ready to deliver the verdict."


He faced his son.


"Not guilty of all charges."

[Scottish King]

Nice court scene! I also like your use of dialogue which is used quite well!