Chapter 40
On due consideration, Ferdynand was not displeased to be eating lighter food. Recently after eating he had been experiencing cramping pain in his upper abdomen. And not just after eating; he just noticed the nausea more however, when he had eaten.1
"Do you feel quite well, your majesty?" asked Jeremi. "Travelling can be trying."
"I... I will be fine, thank you," said Ferdynand.
Jeremi regarded the fine-featured, handsome face, not too burdened with the Hapsburg prognathic jaw. The eyeballs were distinctly yellow.
"You are not well," he said. "I would suggest that you see my new physician, who is part of what my son whimsically calls our 'loot' from the Ottoman Empire."
"I'm not sure I want to be poked around by a Turk," grumbled Ferdynand.
"He's a good Christian, a Wallachian, just trained by the Turks," said Jeremi, interpreting what Ferdynand did not say. "Having been a child when he was uprooted, he joins with us in the Catholic observance, rather than worrying about what he can remember of the Orthodox. Whilst he is happy in this, I see no reason to worry."
"I... no, that is good," said Ferdynand.
The dark eyed young man beckoned by Jeremi came over, looked at Ferdynand, and asked,
"Does it hurt there?" he poked a finger into the emperor's abdomen, to the horror of the attendants and flunkeys.
Holy Roman Emperors do not scream, but it was a noise very like a scream.
"I thought so," said Ionescu.
Austrian guards moved forward menacingly.
Cossacks and winged hussars moved to counter them, and to ease the emperor onto a day bed.
"A private examination might have been more tactful, Ionescu," said Jeremi.
Ionescu shrugged.
"Your ward reckons I have the bedside manner of a horse doctor. I can do my job. You prefer I have bedside manner and kill people like most physicians?"
"Personally, no, but I have to talk fast," said Jeremi.
"You are paid to talk fast. I am paid to heal. Tell him that I can either cut out his gall bladder or he will die in two years."
He walked away. He was protected by Jeremi's men.
"He knew where it hurt from looking at me," said Ferdynand, grimly. "I've had to describe it to other doctors. Do you trust his judgement, your majesty?"
"I'd let him cut me if that was his assessment on me," said Jeremi.
"Good enough. I don't want Leopold to have to fill my shoes before he's had the chance to be a youth," said Ferdynand, grimly.
His wife gasped, and reached for his hand. He looked up at her from where he lay. "We'll discuss it. I am better now, and I want to see the remarkable throne room I've heard so much about."
"Are you up to it?" asked Jeremi.
"I'm up to it," said Ferdynand. "If I die, at least I'll have seen the sights of what is rumoured to be the most remarkable, manipulative, glittering king and kingdom ever known in Europe."
"Why, thank you, your majesty," said Jeremi. "And assuming you permit the operation, you and your good lady can also make out in the Ottoman throne Jurij stole for the purpose. It's a pretty throne as well, and the mother of pearl catches the light most beautifully."
"Make out?"
"It was a little more tactful than Jurij's suggestion of shagging," said Jeremi. "We Sarmatians are simple beings, and we like our food, our drink, our pleasures of the flesh, and a good brawl. Yes, we read and enjoy the classics," he added, having heard a muttered and disgusted comment. "There are always new recipes to find in the classics, and sometimes even a new way to shag. Come and see the barbarous splendour of our throne room."
The classical lines and severity of the throne room, whose decoration was the glass, the mirrors, and the prisms, belied his words and was a rebuke to the man who had muttered something about 'barbarians.'
"Good God," said the Emperor. "I had heard that you had mirrors bigger than any Venice could make, but I could hardly believe it. I am stunned. You talk yourself down but this is an exemplar of pre-eminence in manufacturing techniques."
"I have here some examples of the tiles which we shall be using on the floor when enough have been made," said Jeremi, passing over the tiles made to Helena's specifications. They were white, but caught in the glaze the colours which might have been from pearl shell, or a dragonfly's wing, a shimmering opalescent iridescence. "But only around the throne, and not for dancing on; it is somewhat delicate," he added.
"You have made yourself the king of dreams, set in a soap bubble!" said Ferdynand, who might be chagrined that it was not his throne room, but was enough of a connoisseur of arts that he was genuine in his delight. "The Hall of Light of Warszawa is justly named. Where is my son?"
Jeremi looked around, and groaned.
"My second son is missing too," he said. "I suppose we shall all find out what practical jokes they are planning on us by the morning."
"You accept that with great equanimity."
"Boys will be boys," said Jeremi. "And far better for them to get their high jinks over in harmless pranks than sulking under too heavy a rule of discipline and then breaking out in the nastier mischief older young men can discover. I'd rather suffer a few short-sheeted beds, nameless slime in my boots and firecrackers on the doors than discover I have forty seven illegitimate grandchildren and a son dying of syphilis, but with fathering, as with all things, life's about choices."
"Speaking of choices, can I speak with the man who saved the books?"
"Don't you want to wait until you are well to negotiate? My son Jurij is a shrewd man and will not hold back."
"The one who wrote the fanfare? He is talented."
"He is," said Jeremi. "Jurij?"
Jurij came forward and bowed.
"Why, you are a younger replica of your father indeed," said Ferdynand.
Jurko blushed.
"You could pay me no greater compliment, your imperial majesty," he said.
"Oh, your voice is music. Is this soft-spoken musician indeed the consummate warrior, the engineer, the man who took Constantinople?"
"I seek to follow in my sire's footsteps and offer him such talents as I may have, for the good of the Rzeczpospolita," said Jurko. "I am a simple Cossack, not skilled in the ways of diplomacy, but the Good Lord has seen fit to endow me with a ready brain to use in practical situations, an angel from heaven as my wife to support and encourage me, and the body of a young god to keep her happy."
He said this with a straight face, and it took a moment before Ferdinand laughed in delight.
"And you have the wit, too, to see a library as the greatest treasure to loot from Constantinople."
"I disagree, sire," said Jurko. "That is the second greatest treasure won from the sack of Constantinople."
"What is the greatest then?"
"A peace treaty; and the expectation of exchanges of knowledge, to the furthering of the greater good of all mankind," said Jurko. "And the chance to shag on every throne the Sultan owned. And damned uncomfortable some of them were, too," he added.
"I suspect your pretence of being a simple Cossack filled with nothing but desires of the flesh has a lot of people underestimating you, Prince Jurij," said Ferdynand. "Why do you want Silesia?"
"Personally, I don't, not really," said Jurko. "But it would be a useful addition to our lands and would make a tidier border now Friedrich Wilhelm has joined us. It has some nice mineral deposits and pretty stones. And it has been ours in the past. It rounds off the land in the west, as you might say. And the library with a few additions is a fair exchange. Including copies of the medical treatises Ionescu used when he was learning, such as one by one Salih bin Nasrallah, also known as Ibn Sallum, and books from England and the Netherlands, and from India, Persia, and the ancient world."
"And would you let him cut into you?"
"Oh, yes. I'd let him cut into my wife. He saved the life of my best friend's wife and their firstborn. He has a delightful habit of knowing what he can do, what he cannot, and what he is uncertain about."
"Throw in the operation and you shall have Silesia."
"Sire! The operation would be a gift; that is not a bargaining chip," said Jurko, shocked.
"Then the more I am willing to gift it to someone of such integrity," said Ferdynand. "I would go to my chambers, and speak long with my wife, and with my son, if he can be found."
"Oh, I'll go and bounce the young miscreants a bit," said Jurko.
oOoOo
Jurko ran two young men to earth in the barracks room of the visiting guards and made them dismantle all the deadfalls, short-sheeted beds, slowmatch in the jakes in anticipation of the results of digestion, and crumbs under the bedsheets.
"And go and see your Papa, young Leopold, he is not unnaturally concerned that he not die before you are fully grown, and worried that if he does, you will have to bear the burden of the Empire. You can always let loose my brother's unwholesome imagination on the guard when he's getting well."
"Sorry, Jurij," said Michaś.
"It's a bad time, that's all," said Jurko. "Now, cut along, and see your father, lad."
Leopold nodded.
oOoOo
"I'll let him cut me," said Ferdynand. "I have written my will, including a testament which explains that this was a pre-existing condition, and exonerates all blame from both Sarmatia and your doctor. I... I want Leopold to have more guidance. But if your doctor is correct, I will not have much time for that without this."
"He has thrown himself into the treatment of members of my household, and he has been so far successful in all he has undertaken," said Jeremi. "He saved the arm of a man badly injured by sewing the tendon with the man's own muscle fibres. It is healing. Weakened, but with some movement, which is more than could have been expected."
"Your majesty! This cannot be wise..." one of his advisors insisted.
"No, it may not be, but the pain is becoming more frequent and worse when it is with me," said Ferdynand. "And it's my body. Pray for my wellbeing. And look after Leopold if I should die."
oOoOo
Ion Ionescu bowed.
"If you permit me to do this, great emperor, you must, thereafter, respect your body, and eschew alcohol and fatty meats. If you do not, I will have laboured in vain. I will give you a preparation to drink so that the pain will be minimal, and you will not be fully aware. I am going to use a technique of an Indian doctor named Suśruta. He is the father of most surgery. Now, let us prepare a chamber which is scrubbed clean so no evil miasmas may enter, and use thyme, which is God's cleanser to chase them away. I will sew up anything I cut with pure silk, also soaked in thyme, which your body will absorb. I must put you in a most embarrassing position because I will go in from below, but nobody will see but your most trustworthy men who will need to hold you for me, whom I will require, as I require you, and of course, me, to take a steam bath and dress in white linen, for certain dyes can poison wounds. It is uncleanliness which kills more patients than anything else."
"I will aid a fellow monarch," said Jeremi.
"And my brother-in-law," said Ferdynand.
"Let us first pray," said Ionescu.
oOoOo
The faintly moaning, half conscious body of the emperor was carried out of the chamber Ionescu had chosen some two hours later. Ionescu handed a bowl with horrid concretions in it, to the empress.
"These are what have caused the pain," he said.
Empress Eleanora cried out, and crossed herself.
"Dear God, how do such things form?" she asked.
"Too much fatty food, too much alcohol, and not enough exercise," said Ionescu. "Such things grow also in the bladder, from which it is easier to excise them. I have performed this operation once before on a slave, who had purulent peritonitis, and discovered that he also had gallstones... was it something I said?" he added, whilst Gryzelda caught the swooning empress.
"Don't explain to women who aren't warriors," said Gryzelda. "Go and write him a diet sheet when you've washed, and you can tell Jeremi and me about your slave later."
Ionescu flushed, and gave a wry grin and escaped.
"I would be more interested if it were your husband, not mine," said Eleanor, tartly.
"Why, I can appreciate that," said Gryzelda. "Now it is a matter of time; come, ride with me, and I will show you the new horticultural pleasure garden. Not much pleasure at this time of year, but the glass gazebo is heated."
oOoOo
"Leopold?"
"Papa? Does it hurt?"
"Leopold, would you understand if I said that it hurts like the devil but that the pain is a good pure pain of injury, not of... whatever it was?"
"Yes, Papa; the surgeon gave me the stones he took out of you. One of them is almost a thumb's length across. He said you should not get more, because of the way he did the operation, but that if you eat too much fatty food you might get them forming in your bladder instead and then your doctor will put something up your privacies to crush them."
Ferdynand winced at the horrified fascination in his son's voice as much as the thought.
"I'll pay more attention to fast days," he said. "This may be God's warning that a man who is important to the Faith should be a better and more observant Christian. But I will be careful also on feast days."
"Oh, Papa! I am so glad you are going to live," said Leopold.
"Well, I certainly intend to do so," said Ferdynand. "Am I stuck here over Christmas?"
"Yes, Papa, but they all seem very pleasant," said Leopold.
"I want to give that surgeon a good purse," said Ferdynand. "And a title. And see if I can bribe him to move to Austria."
"Stepmama already asked, but he said no. He will teach people, however."
"That is one thing, then. They have an excellent hospital in Kraków, I believe."
"Yes, and Jurij wants him to found another in Kijów."
"That makes sense. I want to sleep now."
Epilogue
The recovery of the Holy Roman Emperor, who was more energetic and able than he had been for a year or more was a matter of rejoicing. He and his library returned to Vienna, where he lived twenty more years, and his son was much better prepared for the attempted invasion on the part of Kara Mustafa I of the Ottoman Empire, who thought Vienna would be a softer touch than Sarmatia.
Kara Mustafa, despite inexplicable ill health, left his then 20-year-old son by Turhan in charge, and led the invasion, in 16832
Hetmani Jan Sobieski and Michał Wiśniowiecki brought winged hussars in support, at the will of the ageing, but still active King Jeremi. Gryzelda died in 1672, but with the clear ambitions of Kara Mustafa, Jeremi put his grief behind him to be ready to lead the Rzeczpospolita.
Kara Mustafa was roundly defeated, escaped back to Istanbul, and was murdered in his bath by Turhan Sultan, after being drugged, so she could tell him exactly how much she hated him. Her son, Yusuf, who had taken time to be conceived, became the next Ottoman Sultan, and sent his son as a page to the court in Warszawa. In the meantime, he took his mother's advice, and gave independence to the rebellious Wallachian, Transylvanian, and Hungarian states, preferring to remain on friendly terms, than have the Empire depleted with more bloodshed, sending out peaceful proselytising holy men, in those countries which accepted religious tolerance. The Ottoman Empire had had its day – for now. He was preparing for his descendants.
During the siege of Vienna, Jurko and Helena led a fleet to harry Istanbul, as Constantinople was now being called, and steered their burning flagship right amongst the Turkish fleet. Many a Turkish sailor lucky enough to survive swore that they were singing. Some say that on quiet nights, you can hear two beautiful voices singing 'Bogurodzica' but any Cossack insists that it is 'Raise your glasses, brothers.'
Jeremi died, shortly after the battle of Vienna in 1683, some say in grief over the death of his favourite son, some say that he should have died long since but survived on willpower to see the menace of Kara Mustafa put down. The Korybut banner put their support behind his oldest grandson, Jaromka, as Jeremi II Wisniowicki, being much the same age his grandsire had been when he had become king.
Michał Korybut Wiśniowiecki did not die of alleged food poisoning at 33 being [a] fitter than in real life and [b] more popular. Ruryk survived, against all expectations, and eloped with Adolfina Waza, entering Stockholm castle the same way his brother Jurij had once done, and leaving Władysław to be King of Sweden when Krystyna abdicated.
Michał Wołodyjowski courted and married Joasia, Gryzelda's younger sister, who unfortunately subsequently died in childbed. Michał left his own lands to his stepson, and entered a monastery.
1 Ferdynand died at the age of 48 of gallstones in 1657 in the real world. In the real world the first successful recorded removal of gallstones was in 1687, but I'm stretching a point in the extraordinary circumstances of Jurko snagging a doctor who has performed operations on slaves and is somewhat unsung. Studies in dogs earlier had shown the gall bladder to be able to be removed without danger to life, but the gall bladder itself was usually emptied and drained, not removed, up until the late 19th century.
2 I kept the same date, just different Sultan; same commander and still as flawed.
