"The question is," said Ivan, "will we have time to prepare before she attacks?"
"Who knows?" said Katerina. "All we can do is work as quickly as we can and hope that it's enough time."
"But that's all the more reason to be merciful to Dimitri," said Ivan. "We don't have time to deal with putting down a revolt. Pardon him, forgive all who followed him, and then concentrate on finding the materials we need."
"If only we could have made them there and brought them with us," said Katerina.
"In what pockets?" asked Ivan. The two of them laughed ruefully.
Sergei was surprised at how many words the two of them used that he had never heard before. What happened to them while they were gone? Whatever it was, one thing was plain: They liked each other now. No, they loved each other. Sergei could see it in the way Katerina looked at Ivan, in the way Ivan oriented himself around her at every moment. It was as if she was now included within his protective circle—though a look at Ivan's arms showed that he hadn't acquired the muscles of a swordsman.
"You're wearing that robe I burned on your wedding day," said Father Lukas. "I thought Brother Sergei had it last."
"Well, nobody wants this robe," said Sergei, hoping that joking about his peed-on clothing would distract Father Lukas from the nastiness that Sergei could see coming.
It didn't work. Father Lukas simply ignored him. "It seems that Sergei kept secrets from me."
"If he did," said Katerina, "it was at my command, Father Lukas."
"You have no authority over a scribe's truthfulness to his priest," said Father Lukas mildly.
Ivan made as if to answer then, but Katerina raised a hand, just slightly, and Ivan immediately fell silent, deferring to her. "Father Lukas, when a subject gives obedience to his sovereign, yet in doing so commits no sin, does he have anything to confess?"
"The sin was in not telling me," said Father Lukas, growing grumpier.
"Then perhaps you don't wish to have me rule as a Christian sovereign in Taina," said Katerina. "For I could never rule if I thought my subjects owed obedience to the priest before me."
"Sergei is a cleric," said Father Lukas.
"Tell me now," said Katerina. "Are clerics subject to my rule or not? If not, then I won't bother trying to restore Christianity to Taina. It would be a seditious influence, for everyone who took holy orders would believe himself to owe no further obedience to the king."
Father Lukas realized the dilemma he had placed himself in.
"Either priests are subject to kings in whatever land you visit, or you are not, and if you are not, then God and his angels had better help you, for no mortal force can do it."
"I beg your forgiveness, Princess," said Father Lukas. "I spoke in the midst of annoyance at having been kept in the dark. Of course Sergei acted properly in obeying you."
Katerina said nothing, merely waited. He had apparently left something out.
In a few moments he figured out what it was. "And I, of course. I am also your good subject while I dwell in Taina."
Katerina immediately smiled and took his hands. "Ah, my dear confessor, it will be the great joy of my life to be the instrument of the Lord in restoring the gospel of Jesus Christ to its rightful primacy in the land God has given my family to rule."
Sergei had never seen Father Lukas openly humbled before. It was refreshing. It filled Sergei with optimism for the future. Katerina did know how to rule. If both her husband and Father Lukas deferred to her, then there was hope that Dimitri and Baba Yaga might also someday bow.
Baba Yaga? I'm a fool, thought Sergei.
And yet, was God not more powerful than kings or wizards? And was it not embedded somewhere in natural law that goodness must ultimately prevail over evil? If not, then natural law was poorly planned, in Sergei's opinion. A second-rate creation. If even he, a poor fool of a scribe, could imagine a better universe, then any Creator who was worth worshiping must be able to do as well. Therefore, God must have so ordained this world, and that gave hope to the righteous no matter how bleak their cause.
If, in fact, we are the righteous.
But Sergei quickly put that doubt out of his mind. Between the people of Taina, with all their sins and pride and weakness and fear, and Baba Yaga, there was no question about which was on God's side.
"May I ask," said Sergei to Katerina, "what we are to call you now? With your father muted by the Pretender's spell, who will be the king that leads us into war?"
"My father is still the king," said Katerina. "He may have lost his speech, but he can read and write, and so can I, and so can Ivan. We will learn his will and obey him."
"But in battle, who will lead?"
Katerina did not so much as glance at Ivan. "Whoever is most fit to fulfill my father's will."
Yes, she was already queen, for she had mastered the art of answering honestly without answering at all.
When Ivan saw Sergei there waiting for them, he was just as glad that he and Katerina had clothes on both sides of the bridge now. Let someone else be humiliated—Ivan had had his fill of it. He was coming back now to the place he had fled to save his life, a place where he was despised, resented, or pitied, but not respected. And somehow he had to lead these people in creating new technologies, learning to use them, and then deploying them in battle.
At least this time he'd have Katerina solidly on his side. It was such a relief, not to be alone. He hoped she felt the same, that having him beside her was a strength, and not a burden. There was no point in asking her—she would say he was a help to her, and would even mean it. Whether it was true would be revealed by events.
Baba Yaga knew they were back, but they weren't in Taina yet, not in the village, and Ivan and Katerina had already planned that they would not return until they had some of their new weapons ready. Otherwise, they would have to face Dimitri with nothing but Katerina's will and the people's love for her. Both were strong—but Dimitri would claim to be the only one who could stand against Baba Yaga, and fear of the witch might well prevail over love for Katerina. Especially with Ivan standing beside Katerina, reminding everyone of his weakness. No, they had to have something more.
Now they had Sergei and Father Lukas to help them, at least by tending fires and keeping watch over pots. Instead of searching for saltpeter first, Ivan began by constructing a distillery. There were items Sergei had to sneak into town to obtain, and some that he had to ask the smith to make for him, but the smith served the king and only obeyed Dimitri out of fear for his family—he was glad to help, especially when Sergei, following instructions, let slip the news that Katerina and Ivan were back.
"Where?" asked the smith.
"In the forest, biding their time," said Sergei. "Dimitri's days are numbered. Those who are wise would do well to prepare to follow Katerina when she returns."
The smith had his doubts, though. Until Sergei laughed. "Do you think Dimitri's sword will stand against the Widow's curses? Already he has been deceived by the witch and doesn't even know it. No, it takes a woman of power to stand against the wicked one."
There it was, the seed planted. When Sergei reported on the conversation, Ivan and Katerina were well satisfied. Word would spread. Many people would stop believing that Dimitri was their only hope. How could a soldier stand against a witch?
Running a still wasn't easy, but Father Lukas took to it naturally, even after he realized that the result would be an extremely potent beverage. The problem was supplying the still with fermentable foodstuffs. After a couple of days, Katerina authorized Sergei to bring a couple of teenage boys from the village, enlisting them as the first of her own druzhina, though their labor was pilfering grain sacks and toting them miles through the forest, rather than swordplay. "Whatever my people need, I do," she said, "and my druzhina will not be too good to do the same." They knew that she spoke the truth, and so they obeyed her and felt noble for doing it—as they should.