Chapter 27

Helena had to agree with Jurko that there was nothing like a trip down the river with the prospect of action when they reached their destination. They came out of the delta of the great river as the sun arose to their left, and the sky went from dove grey to crimson, giving way rapidly to fiery oranges and yellows as the sun rose from behind the Crimean peninsula. And then the sky was darkened and the ears assaulted by the whirring of wings and honking of countless numbers of waterfowl, roused from their nightime slumbers in the vast reedbeds of the estuary. For a few minutes it was the noisiest thing Helena had ever heard, the sunrise completely obscured by the rising birds; and then, they had all flown away and the sun was up, a golden orb in a slate blue sky.

"Anyone get a shot?" asked Jurko. Several of his men grinned, and held up ducks they had shot with bows from almost within reach. It would make a change to their diet now Easter was celebrated – albeit quietly – and meat was back on the menu. But Helena almost wept to see a swan as one of those birds shot down.

"I be main sorry, Princess," said the man who had shot it. "I aimed random-like as one does. I'll see to skinning it real careful, and curing it, and it shall line your little girl's kontusik."

"I will pay you for it, of course, Pawło," said Helena.

"No, Princess, I would gift it, for 'tis a royal bird, and it would be bad luck to kill such a creature and then make money from it," said Pawło.

"Very well, then; I thank you," said Helena. Krystyna would be a picture with white swan's down around blue velvet.

Jurko steered unerringly across the Black Sea. Gone was the time when he would claw round the edge, staying within sight of land. He set a course by compass and set off with perfect confidence. They had the wind off the land to speed them on their way over the first portion of a four hundred mile journey; once the advantage of that was lost, they might have to tack, or even row. But though they might not achieve the dizzying speeds of the ice boats, their objective would be achieved inside of three days, even with contrary winds. Fortunately, the winds were still the strong north-easterlies which could be bitter gales in the winter, forming ice in the northernmost reaches of the sea.

"We'll be there in two days or less," said Jurko, confidently.

"And if we have to flee?" asked Helena.

"We take advantage of the strong coastal current flowing back towards our little river," said Jurko. "Flee, wife? I'll have you know that we have a date in the Sultan's palace, where his throne is gagging to be used for Jurij's shagging time."

"You're outrageous," giggled Helena.

"And we'll tell him how many times we made out on his throne," said Jurko, happily. "And he will smell us on it when he gets back home. Even if can't, he'll think he will."

Helena smiled. Her husband did not need much to make him happy.

"Sweet husband, how would you feel if the Sultan shagged one of his harem on Papa's throne?" she asked.

Jurko considered.

"Sorry for it," he said. "Putting up with inferior shagging. It knows the real thing because Papa shagged Gryzelda on it just to make a point. Besides, I bet him he wouldn't."

Helena gave up.

oOoOo

Sobiepan gaped at the loveliness of the Tatar girl who was presented to him. She was around eighteen or nineteen, with lustrous black hair, the almond-shaped eyes with the slight fold of her people, and golden skin. She knelt to him.

"Illustrious husband, I am Çulpan. I am told you need a preparation against the Russian pox, so I have made you up a draft."

"What's in it?" asked Sobiepan, suspiciously.

"Garlic, thyme, honey, and certain fungi,1" said Çulpan. "You will take it daily and then in three weeks we can be married."

"It sounds revolting," said Sobiepan, frankly.

"So is a man who is rotting," said Çulpan.

"Fair point, I suppose," said Sobiepan.

"My sister is forceful," said the envoy, Toqtamiş.

"So is mine," said Sobiepan.

"You won't be too surprised, then," said Toqtamiş.

"Any news on the Ottomans?" asked Sobiepan. "I have scouts out, but not too far, it's into their territory."

"My khan makes merry with Chmielnicki over the joys of looting baggage trains," said Toqtamiş. "My duty, however, is with my sister, and my war-band to add to yours. I will set my camp within your excellent lines of ditches and berms, and aid with adding to them."

"Much appreciated, my brother," said Sobiepan. "We have a couple of protective ravines, but like Jan Karol Chodkiewicz, I prefer an active defence to a siege inside the castle."

Toqtamiş flashed him a very white grin.

"More opportunities for sallies, harassment and looting," he said.

"You sound like Prince Jurij," said Sobiepan.

"Oh, the Striking Falcon is legendary," said Toqtamiş. "We fear and admire him."

"That seems to be the way he strikes a lot of people," said Sobiepan. "I've had reinforcements to the number of about thirty thousand join me; I'm hoping for more."

"Chmielnicki has tens of thousands," said Toqtamiş. "Plus my khan."

Sobiepan reflected that in 1621, the Sultan had had the Tatars to sweep away opposition from ahead of his army and make brief, violent raids at the Commonwealth lines. Having them change sides might just be a decider.

He did not much like Jurko, finding the sardonic Cossack rather intimidating, but he wished the king's favourite son was with him.

He was painfully aware that he was no Chodkiewicz.

oOoOo

When Jeremi got back to Smoleńsk, it was to discover that Jurko had swept up almost all the available shipping of any size. He sighed, and mustered what he could. Sailing down the Dniepr and up the Dniestr was about the quickest way to reach Chocim.

Well, if they must go in barges and old Cossack chaika, they must. Still, they now had more barges, and it was possible to dodge the rapids, so he should not complain. Jurko was causing wet docks to be built around Kiev as well, to be a trade hub, from north and south as much as east and west. Warszawa was the city of light, but Kiev would be a city of gold, a northern Venice.

He grinned in sheer delight at Janusz Radziwiłł as they embarked, and once they were under way, raised his voice to sing.

"Oi šermukšnio šermukšnio kur tu augai tarp balių,

Ei ei ajajaj, kur tu augai tarp balių?"

Several thousand voices took up the song; the Lithuanian war ballad was by way of being an unofficial anthem of the winged hussars. It mentioned Chodkiewicz as well, that Lithuanian hero, Jonas Karolis Chodkevičius in his own tongue.

"You Poles," laughed Radziwiłł. "You steal everything that isn't nailed down, Lithuania, our best song..."

"Hey, Janusz, my friend, I'm not a Pole, I'm a Cossack and we looted it, when we looted Poland for Red Ruthenia," said Jeremi.

The Lithuanian magnate laughed, but was inclined to be sentimental.

"You big Cossack oaf, my liege, I have come to love you well," he said.

Jeremi embraced him. He did not fully trust the man, but he could trust him a lot further these days than when his reign had begun.

"And we can joke because we are all brothers," he said, loudly enough for it to carry, and be repeated. "And I look forward to fighting beside all my brothers."

"How much of the Ottoman Empire are we going to loot, your majesty?" quipped one wag.

"Well, about now, Jurij should be in the process of looting Constantinople, so I'm afraid we are left with liberating Moldavia and maybe Wallachia," said Jeremi. "But first we have to pull my brother-in-law's arse out of the fire of being undermanned against a Turkish army."

"You can't fault Sobiepan's courage," said Radziwiłł.

"No, and I do not, and he is a man who has the stubborn ability to dig in and wait for the relief," said Jeremi. "Chmielnicki is bringing some Tatars up behind them, so row hard, my boys, or the Cossacks will have looted everything worth looting before we get there."

"Like a plague of locusts," muttered one of the hussars.

They redoubled their efforts on the oars.

And Jeremi took his turn to show that he could.

oOoOo

"Gentlemen of the Sejm," said Gryzelda, "We need to vote monies to support the defenders of Chocim. Mehmet IV of the Ottoman Empire is a youth of ambition and the desire to outdo Osman the whatever number whom Chodkiewicz fought."

"Wars are expensive," said one.

"Losing them is more expensive," said Gryzelda. "Come, now, gentlemen, we all know how the dastardly Sejm of 1611 failed to pay the heroes of Kirkholm, who defeated three times their number of Swedes, to a great loss of their horses; and unable to afford to buy more horses or to battle on, they were unable to take advantage of the situation, as a result of which what happened? I'll tell you what happened, the Lion of the North, Gustaw Adolf happened, and took back everything that had been defended. It was an ignominious defeat and paved his way to make a mess of Poland. My brother has fresh troops to defend against the Ottomans, but my husband is force-marching an army already tired from battles in Moskwa. You're all richer by far through the efforts of my husband and stepson with the advances in trade, even if you haven't yet seen the benefits of the new farming systems, but you will. And you deny food, gunpowder, fodder, spare horses for the defenders of our realm, our beloved Commonwealth, and would leave a tired, hungry army to be laughed at by the Ottomans?"

"Majesty, may I take my men? I will pay from my own pocket if I have to," said Lubomirski.

"I am happy to permit this," said Gryzelda. "After all, then the loot to be had is yours, and not one jot nor tittle of it to the Commonwealth coffer if there is nothing paid from it to invest in the venture. I am sure you, Sobiepan, and Jeremi will happily split Moldavia between you as personal estates."

There was a hasty flurry to vote for monies to be made available.

Nobody wanted a return of any units like the notorious Lisowczycy, Lithuanian light cavalry who took no pay, but were paid in plunder, and who were as feared by their own side as by the enemy. Jurko had taken many of their tactics as his own, such as not travelling with waggons, but his Cossacks, born and reborn out of other units, had a far better reputation.

oOoOo

Sobiepan oversaw the trickle of supplies into his stronghold with pleasure. He would not run out of supplies in this confrontation with the Ottomans. The Castle was his; the Moldavian commander had handed it over without question, being nervous of being on the wrong side of the Dniestr. He and his men had been collecting some local partisans as well, and arranging some supplies from Moldavia. Suspicious, Sobiepan had arranged for some of these to be used first, but found them to be good.

The last time the Ottomans had marched north it had taken them from the middle of April until the end of August to reach their position of the battle. They had set out earlier, this time, more or less as soon as they had heard of the war in Russia. Well, that should bring them to battle in high summer.

"Cheer up, my children!" said Sobiepan, if his men flagged. "It will be lovely weather to dine in the Turkish tents on cool sherbert."

He had come on Gryzelda's orders, more because she suspected that the Turks would march than through intelligence; he had time to make good fortifications.

"Your honour," one of his hussars spoke diffidently, "We will clear the wood for a killing field, yes?"

"Yes, of course," said Sobiepan, impatiently. Why was the man giving him a wary and sideways look?

"Prince Jurij..." said the hussar. "I was one of the troops with Stefan Potocki, and I was released to become a hussar again. But I learned some of his tricks..."

"What were you thinking?" Sobiepan gave the man his full attention. "Your name?"

"Paweł Korwiński, my lord. Trenches, dug deep, covered with hurdles and earth on top, and seeded," said Korwiński. "Zigging and zagging and with exits in spinneys, and in the woods, for passage of men behind lines."

"Put together a company and make it so, Pułkownik," said Sobiepan.

"Sir, I'm a towarzysz..."

"Not anymore," said Sobiepan, whose faults did not include blocking the good ideas of underlings. "You're in charge of covert actions, and setting up bases behind anticipated enemy lines and doing whatever crazy things Jurij does which work for him. Take the partisans into your company and deploy them as seems appropriate."

"Yes, my lord," said Korwiński, happily. "May I requisition gunpowder?"

Sobiepan called for parchment and a pen and scrawled a note, which was exquisite in its brevity. It ran, 'Give Pułkownik Korwiński what he needs. Zamoyski.'

Korwiński set to work with a will. There was time, if they worked hard enough, to hide any underground trenches, and the hurdle and earth roofs stabilised sufficiently with grass roots to hold up against small numbers riding over them. Off the road which the approaching troops would follow, he established outposts for partisans, looking like woodcutters' huts, indeed, many of them being the huts of those who were preparing to abandon their homes. Korwiński was generous with Sobiepan's gold to such, and made sure that there were good cellars with second exits dug.

He might have wished for Prince Jurij to check his work, but in the absence of the mercurial Cossack he would do his best, making the terrain work for him.

The drowning of the troops of Mikołaj Potocki had been a powerful lesson to him; and unfortunately unfeasible here, because of the risk to Commonwealth forces too.

Sobiepan continued setting up ramparts and ditches, the ramparts topped with poles, in better heart for having a follower of Jurij's ways'

He was equivocal in his mind as to whether he was relieved or dismayed to see the king's standard at the masthead of the leading vessel of a flotilla of boats and ships.

He was ready, however, to bend the knee to Jeremi.

"Sobiepan! I congratulate you on your negotiations, and on your excellent work digging in here," said Jeremi.

"One who has been trained by Jurij is also working on some surprises," said Sobiepan.

"Splendid! I'll want to meet him at some point," said Jeremi. "I want to create a marsh on the Polish side of the river, to prevent any of their light cavalry disrupting supply lines."

"What if we want to cross it?" asked Sobiepan.

"Reed mats, and rolled log-roads lashed in lengths," said Jeremi.

Sobiepan was suddenly very glad his king was here.

1 Garlic, honey and thyme have antibiotic properties; it might be enough to alleviate matters and stop him passing it on. It might not. It was pretty endemic at the time, alas.