Blurb for falcon and king
Władysław IV Waza is dead; a new king must be elected! His brothers stand for election, and others with foreign agendas; and Jeremi Korybut Wiśniowiecki, now the choice of Ruthenia. His bastard son, Jurko, is plotting to aid his father to be the most glittering and famous monarch in the history of Poland.
Meanwhile the dangerous undercurrents of Rzeczpospolita politics, personal agendas, and the determination of someone to destroy the bridge Jurko is building threaten stability. Jeremi is determined to achieve what he might through negotiation, and negotiates with Queen Krystyna of Sweden for the return of lands lost under her father’s ambitious reign; but when Queen Krystyna finds that she is under threat by her own cousin, Karol Gustaw, Jeremi must decide whether to come to the aid of the beleaguered queen who was so nearly related to his former king, and whether to prepare for war.
Chapter 1
Jurij Korybut Wiśniowiecki Bohun, also known as Jurko, nicknamed ‘The Falcon.’ strode into his father’s study in Warszawa. His wife, Helena, was taking the children to the nursery to catch up with Jeremi’s younger children, Michał and Raina, and Michał’s friend and companion, Jurij, known as Juryk, Chmielnicki. Jurko’s friend and comrade-in-arms, Jan Skrzetuski followed his friend, being favoured by Prince Jeremi, and close to being a son of the family.
Jeremi looked up with a glad smile.
“Ah, my falcon and my hawk! Come, embrace me; you have made good time.”
Jurko embraced his father fondly; Jan somewhat more formally.
“Aye, we were able to come partway by ship on the new canals, which the horses did not like, but which they will learn to accept. So, they have offered you the crown?”
“I am a candidate,” said Jeremi. “And I will be glad of your advice. Technically we haven’t got as far as the Election Sejm, we’re still in the four weeks of the Convocation Sejm, but in real terms, other candidates are being mentioned.”
“Who are the others?”
“Karol Ferdynand Waza and Jan Kazimierz Waza.”
“A bishop and a cardinal? They would take them from a holy calling?”
“If it is for the good of the Rzeczpospolita, yes; and they are our late king’s brother and half-brother. Both are willing to stand. The fly in the ointment is Karol Gustaw Waza.”
“I thought the king’s cousin was angling for the throne of Sweden in marrying Queen Krystyna?” said Jurko.
“He is,” said Jeremi. “But it’s becoming clearer to anyone with the sight of a blind mule that she’s emulating England’s Virgin Queen, Elizabeth, and choosing not to marry. So, being related to poor Władysław in some degree, he has some claim. And Janusz Radziwiłł may not have come out and nominated him, but he fancies the idea of a king who shares his Calvinist religion.”
“The hell he does!” said Jurko. “Radziwiłł isn’t anyone’s good example of a good Christian, of any flavour, and I’ll be damned if I stand still for some dour religious fanatic upsetting our ecumenism as the Swedes have tried to do before.”
“Quite. Which is why I agreed to stand. The Sejm doesn’t take much account of the outgoing king’s wishes, but Władysław pointed out that whilst Jan Kazimierz has military experience, I have experience of winning a peace. I don’t think he believes that Karol Ferdynand would do a good job, and he said to me that Jan Kazimierz would do his duty and would probably hate it. I asked what made him think I’d enjoy it, and he laughed – it was horrible, it was between coughing – and said that I didn’t have to enjoy it so long as I did the job, and he could spare the burden to his brothers.”
“The Sejm are funny about how much notice they take of the wishes of the former king,” said Jurko.
“Yes, and I had the idea to present, as one of the political reforms I wish to make, that rather than rejecting or accepting the former king’s choice, his wishes should count as ten votes,” said Jeremi. “I also want to point out that whilst getting rid of the Liberum Veto would be unthinkable, in depriving any szlachcic of his golden rights, the way it stands deprives those it goes against of their golden rights needs reform.”
“Clever,” said Jurko. “Had you thought what to do about it?”
“Yes; any single man can call the Liberum Veto, but then it must be debated and any course of action have a two thirds majority.”
“You can point out that your golden rights were trampled by the Liberum Veto of the clique of the traitor, Mikołaj Potocki,” said Jurko.
“Clever,” said Jeremi. “I knew I needed my clever son at my side.”
“Well, we shall have the funeral of the king before they vote,” said Jurko. “We haven’t missed it?”
“No, thanks to your canals,” said Jeremi.
“Good; I am... was... fond of the king,” said Jurko. “He was so good to Michał and Jurek when his own son died last year. And the queen too, an excellent stepmother.”
“The Sejm made noises about divorcing Gryzelda to marry Ludwika Maria, the widow-queen, if I was elected, and I said that Gryzelda is my tie to Poland since I am of purely Ruthenian descent. And really, expecting either of the king’s brothers to do so? It’s incest, and I would militate against it. She’s living here, at the moment, Gryzelda is looking after her. I’ve also taken the late king’s illegitimate son and daughter into my household; young Władysław Konstancy is thirteen, too young to consider for the throne, but I have promised him you will take him as a page to train up. Jadwiga is twelve.[1] And then there’s the juvenile lady in waiting to the queen, a child a little under Michał’s age named Mariesieńka. We are almost a school’s worth of children.”
“If the widow queen wants to return to France, of course I will volunteer as an escort,” said Jurko. “And of course I will take young Władysław as a page, though I might have preferred him to be a little older. But, Papa! As well as being a Ruthenian prince of the line of Ruryk, you are a descendent of the Giedyminowicze, of whom one branch is the Jagiellonowie, and if you speak very fast....”
“Yes, but if I speak even faster, I can point out that Jagiełło brought Lithuania into the Rzeczpospolita when he married Jadwiga, and in the same way I bring Ruthenia in, and as a Ruthenian as king, consolidate the union,” said Jeremi.
Jurko nodded.
“Good, I like that,” he said. “And where does Bohdan stand?”
“Bohdan Chmielnicki supports my claim as the best hope for maintaining peace. The Cossacks quite like Jan Kazimierz, but they like a Cossack more.”
“That, as well as your proven military record, should do it,” said Jurko. “Papa, if you are king or hetman or a quiet country szlachcic, I love you.”
“This is why you’re one of my closest advisors,” said Jeremi. “You tell me the truth without fear or favour, and you are loyal regardless of my position. Family is a wonderful thing. And as my brother-in-law has remarried since Anna died, I don’t feel like keeping him close. What I do want to know is who is best to be Ruthenian Field Hetman if I am elected.”
“No question, Papa; Stefan Czarniecki. The men consider him worthy of honour and the Cossacks will accept him because he’s a self-made man. Not a magnate. He was passed over for Crown Field Hetman for Lubomirski. He’s been wont to say that it was bought with land and salt.”
“I advised the king purely because I owed Lubomirski a favour or several. He’s not bad at the job. I don’t trust him, of course. But it was as well, because Czarniecki is a far better choice to work with Cossacks. I’ll talk to Bohdan about it. I’m trying to marry him off to Ludwika Maria; she adores children, and she’d be an excellent mother to Juryk.”
“And it would remove her from your orbit if they want the widow queen married to the new king,” said Jurko. “It’s totally repellent if you ask me; treating a queen like a piece of regalia, to be worn by the successor, ah, here you are, your majesty, the ceremonial dick ornament,”
“Jurko!” said Jeremi, laughing.
oOoOo
The former queen was cooing over small Jaromka Korybut Bohun. She had already cuddled Raina, Gryzelda’s second child, named after Jeremi’s Moldavian mother. The solemn, dark-haired Władysław Konstancy was playing with Michał and Juryk, companions to his much-missed younger brother. Jurko’s adoptive daughter, Róża, was getting to know Jadwiga Waza. This involved much giggling, which was balm to the heart of Jadwiga’s stepmother, who doted on children, and had not been blessed with any in her brief union with the late king.
“Princess Helena is too young to be your mother; is she your stepmother?” Jadwiga asked Róża.
“No... well, yes, but I’m adopted by both Papa and Mama, because when I was taken by the Turks my family did not want me back,” said Róża, glibly. It was the story they told, implying a family of szlachetka, poor nobles. Róża was a peasant girl who had been sold to the Tatars by her father, seeing feeding a girl as a waste of resources. A clever child, Róża had quickly picked up all she needed to seem to be a szlachcianka, with the help of Lady Asieńka, her governess, who had also taught Helena, who had been as ignorant a princess as the daughter of the most poverty stricken szlachetka family. And Jurko had learned what he needed as well, revelling in mathematics to understand engineering.
“It’s a horrid custom to pretend anyone taken is dead,” said Jadwiga. “It could happen to anyone if you are in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“It’s why I wanted to learn to fight as well as a boy, so I could defend myself,” said Róża. “Will you and your brother join us at sabre drill? And I say, you have a mother, where is she?”
“She left us with Mama Ludwika because Mama Ludwika was happy to have us and if we aren’t there, our Mama might be able to get married,” said Jadwiga.
“Oh.” It was a speaking monosyllable.
Jadwiga flushed.
“She loves us, but without Papa’s protection, she needs a man,” she said. “Your grandsire is good to give us a home.”
“He was orphaned at Michał’s age,” said Róża. “He had a pretty dour upbringing. He wants to make sure other children he can help don’t have such a dismal childhood. Especially Michał, so he’s glad to have other children around who can brighten things up and helps us too. But we don’t talk about it.”
oOoOo
The Interrex, Primate Maciej Łubieński, banged his gavel when the Sejm was in session next day.
“I have received the question as to where the widow queen and the royal bastards are at this moment,” he said.
Jeremi rose.
“There’s no secret over that, my Lord Interrex,” he said. “Queen Ludwika Maria brought the children to my household as she is friendly with my wife, and because the late king suggested it, as my son and his friend have been royal playmates.”
There was something of a stir.
Aleksander Koniecpolski stood.
“And does the widow queen have any free will to come and go, or is she your hostage, Wiśniowiecki?” he demanded. There were some murmurs of assent.
Jeremi laughed.
“Really, have you nothing better to occupy your mind than making up theories of conspiracy and aiming shots in the dark at me over your personal dislike of me, since the King, God rest his soul, ruled in my favour over the land dispute?” he said. “The queen sent for my wife when the king was dying. We both attended him, as the Interrex full well knows, being there in his position as Primate. And the day before, the king had asked me to care for his children, and for his wife while she needed support, and I have a document he wrote to that effect, dated a week before his death, when he knew he was ill.”
“The king also tried to name a vivente rege successor,” said the Interrex, mildly.
“We do not bow to such things!” Janusz Radziwiłł declared.
“No, we do not,” said Koniecpolski.
“As we have a Convocation Sejm, to make laws based on former practise, perhaps it is time to make a ruling on that, to lay law on the will of the former monarch,” said Jeremi.
Łubieński shot him a look.
“Have you any idea who the king chose?”
“Not for certain, Your Grace, but it seems to me that an outgoing king might have been in the position to impart statecraft to, say, a son, or close relative, whom he feels may have a good chance of doing his duty to the Rzeczpospolita; yet to impose any ruler on our Commonwealth is a violation of the Golden Rights of the Sejm. My suggestion is that it be enshrined in law that the suggestion of the king be worth a certain number of votes.” Jeremi was not certain that the king had suggested him to anyone else, despite having mooted the idea, so he could deny knowledge.
“And how many would you suggest?”
Jeremi shrugged.
“A number which gives his choice weight, but which would not overwhelm the Sejm if they are opposed to his choice,” he said.
“So perhaps around a tenth of the chamber? Thirty votes?” suggested the Interrex.
“If that seems fair to you; I would think the number should be open to debate rather than to outright acceptance or veto,” said Jeremi, who had been angling for ten or a dozen votes.
Adam Kisiel, Starosta of Kiev since Jeremi had ceded the emergency position after the settling of the disputes of the Cossacks, arose.
“It seems to me that the king’s wishes should be taken seriously,” he said. “The king was for peace where it might be achieved, and we can thank Prince Wiśniowiecki for stepping up and helping him gain that peace. My choice of candidate is Jan Kazimierz, the king’s half-brother, who also stands for peace, and has experience of war. I concur that the king’s wishes should count for a tenth of the vote.”
“And I agree too,” Bohdan Chmielnicki rose to put his point of view. “I’d also like to say that as the Liberum Veto has been alluded to by the prince, we should address the fact that the traitor, Mikołaj Potocki, used his influence and the Liberum Veto to the point which almost brought the Rzeczpospolita down in flames, by forcing we Cossacks to fight for our rights. He wanted to slaughter Cossacks.”
“You cannot suggest removing our right to veto!” cried Jerzy Lubomirski, Crown Field Hetman. He owed his position to Jeremi, who disliked him cordially, but considered him a useful idiot.
“I don’t think Hetman Chmielnicki means to remove it at all,” said Jeremi, pleased that his discussions with Bohdan had borne fruit.
“The Liberum Veto is like pointing a finger at a law to condemn it,” said Bohdan. “Which means three fingers pointing back at yourself; or in short, one man’s right to stop a law, or disband a Sejm, tramples on the rights of every other szlachcic present. It’s as if an apple tree on common ground is being voted on by those in the neighbourhood over who has how many apples, and one man says, no, nobody shall have apples; and then the apples rot on the tree and nobody is satisfied save the one who fancied he would not be voted a big enough share, and that is the satisfaction of the dog in the manger. Our late king wished to punish the Turks for their raids, and this was vetoed by Potocki, because it gave too much glory to the Cossacks who have always taken the brunt against the Turks, as we did at Chocim, under the glorious leadership of Jan Karol Chodkiewicz. And he stirred up the trouble which prevented the late king marrying as he chose to Anna Wiśniowiecka. And he almost set Poland and Lithuania against Ruthenia. I would not be here to be a part of these councils, but for Jarema, Prince Jeremi Wiśniowiecki I should say, winning the peace, an infinitely harder battle than winning a war. I say that the right to veto should be a right to put something on hold, and to debate it, and that to re-pass it requires a two-thirds majority.”
“I second that proposal,” said Jeremi. “One man’s tantrum should not be permitted to erode the Golden Rights of the majority.”
This referrence to the Golden Rights brought a murmur of assent.
The convocation broke up for the day after this, the matters to be debated more fully on the morrow.
“You are a cunning bastard, Wiśniowiecki,” said Kisiel. “I could almost like you for king.”
“I think I’d do a better job of holding the peace and doing such war as is necessary than Jan Kazimierz, whom I personally like, but cannot see holding strong against Karol Gustaw if he gains control of Sweden at any point,” said Jeremi.
“I don’t know,” said Kisiel. “What other wars did you want to promote?”
“I’m happy for there to be open season on the Tatars and the Turks if they raid,” said Jeremi. “And I want to re-take Livonia. Gustaw Adolf stole that when we were preoccupied with the Turks in the 20s.”
“I wouldn’t say you were wrong in that,” said Kisiel.
[1] [1] Jadwiga Łuszkowska was the king’s mistress who birthed Władysław Konstanty and a year later an ‘unknown daughter’. I decided to call the daughter for the mother, who subsequently married the starosta of Merkine. I assume her new husband did not want royal bastards in his household.
