A Dangerous Climate Read Free Page B

have stated that II Ferenc is of a separate branch of your family and no direct connection to you, nor of so-close blood that there is any obligation existing between you; further, you pledge that no part of your mission shall be used to advance that uprising, either in direct benefits or in the capacity as intermediary. Any lapse in this commitment to the benefit of II Ferenc will be grounds todismiss you, which will not benefit an exile such as you. Let the Austrians, Dutch, Prussians, and English sort the Spanish Succession out with Spain and France: do not yourself participate in any aspect of it. On this point, Royal Augustus is adamant, and if you feel you cannot abide by these restrictions, then it will be best to refuse this mission and remain in Poland or return to Hungary: Royal Augustus must be able to repose absolute trust in your loyalty for this mission.
     
If this is in accord with your understanding, please sign at the bottom and give it into the hands of the courier who carries it to bring it back to me. If it does not, I ask you to frame a letter of your understanding, and give that to the courier instead. We have a little time to make adjustments in our terms, if that seems necessary to you. On your one previous request, I fear it will not be possible for you to meet with Royal Augustus before you leave, a decision that is as much for your protection as for the King's; we wish to keep your risk of discovery to as small as is possible, and for that reason, Royal Augustus has ordered that all your contact from now until your return from Russia be confined to letters, in the cypher we have already agreed upon for our communication. I apologize for this, and assure you that the gratitude of Royal Augustus will take your understanding of this precaution into consideration when he expresses his thanks to you at the conclusion of your mission.
     
I pray God to give His protection for your endeavor.
     
     
    Your most devoted servant to command,
Klaus Demetrius Krems
private and confidential secretary to
Augustus II, the Strong, King of Poland
and Elector of Saxony
     
     
on the 27th day of February, 1704
     
     
     
     
     
    1
     
     
He came to slowly, his face pressed into cold, noxious mud, his body lying half on and half off a wooden walkway, his clothes in disarray, his sword gone, his wig missing entirely, and a collection of bruises and small wounds on his shoulders and head that he knew would take weeks to mend. He was just beginning to feel other hurts; through swollen eyes he tried to see where he was, but the night was dark, and although there was a broad smudge of opalescent luminosity on the horizon, it was not bright enough to diminish the night. His usual ability to see in dimness was itself faded: he could barely make out his ruined lace cuff dangling a hand's-breadth from his face; he could not see, but he felt the rawness of his knuckles, and his attempt to flex his fingers in his right hand failed in a flare of renewed pain. How had he come to this? Involuntarily he groaned, and less than a minute later, he heard approaching footsteps, and hoped this did not mean his attackers were returning to finish what they had begun. After a brief hesitation, he took a breath, and then another.
     
"It's not a body," said a voice in Finnish. "He's breathing."
     
"Looks like the Lithuanians have been at him; they go for the head with their cudgels," said a second voice in the same language. He nudged at the prone figure with a walking staff. "You alive?" he asked in Russian as he held up a bull's-eye lantern.
     
Saint-Germain did his best to blink, and said through swollen lips, in Finnish, "What happened?" It was the first question that came to mind; his voice was rough and almost inaudible, and this simple effort brought new pain as a cold wind slid over him, bearing the odor of decaying vegetation from the exposed mud of the marsh. It's all of a piece, he thought.
     
"You've been damned foolish,