dilluns, 4 d’agost de 2014

"What has taken you so long!"

4. February 1696

Maciek Kwiatkowski was cold.  Freezing cold.  And he was angry with himself. "Why can't you just hold your tongue."
He was sure thats why he was out here, in the freezing cold and snow. Telling a magnate where he can stick his veto is never a good idea. Not after the Sapieha's vetoed the King. and certainly not after a few drinks... Some said too many, but that's all relative.
Now he was out here in the cold waiting for a guest of his Pułkownik Mierzejewski's... probably just another stuck up Magnate, looking down his nose at him for not being a Noble.  Maybe he could warm up in the village... maybe they even have an inn, with some food, maybe even a small drink...
Kwiatkowski asking for another shot
Kwiatowski was part of Euzebiusz Pawłowski new dragoon regiment, part of Mierzejewski Pulk/division. The colonel was training them in new ways, that Pułkownik Mierzejewski had discovered in Greece on his great tour. Apparently it was from some competitions the ancient greeks used to train their soldiers. It focused on the skills required by a soldier, with competitions in shooting, swimming, fencing, equestrianism, and cross country running.  He even  called his regiment the "Hoplites".

The Hoplites Regimental Flag.
At least they wouldn't have to wear the helmets

Not that he had much choice. Being an impoverished noble, he had to take whatever his benefactor felt suited him.  He spat on the ground. He was sure it froze before it even hit the ground.

Finally he saw some movement in the trees.  He could see the first riders of the magnate riding ahead of the column. He approached them  to identify himself as their guide.

"Pozdrowienia - Greetings your lordships! I have been expecting you hours ago - I am Pan Kwiatowski, porucznik/lieutenant of Pawłowski dragoon banners!  What has taken you you so long!?!"

The long expeted party arrives

The two men rode up to Kwiatowski. Both of them wore expensive furs, but the rider on the lft looked like a hardened veretan of many a campaign. The veteran smiled at him and started to introduce himself, whilst his companion eyed him with a disdainful glower.

"Greetings, an a special thanks for your forthcomingness. My companion and I have ineed been delayed by the snow, dinners, political meeings and some broken axels. I am Pan Krefeldski,  Rotmistrz of his Highness the Crown Prince of Poland Guard Banner. And my companion here, is Pan Jakib Sobieski..."

Kwiatowski blood started to drain from his face

"... you might have heard of him as Crown Prince of Poland, or as the hetman's son, depending on where you stand?"

"... Ah..."

"Oh yes", pressed the Rotmistrz," by the way just out of interest, where do you stand on this issue?"

"Krefeldski! thats enough!"  spat out the Prince. "I apologize for my friend's forwardness. Being a foreigner he sometimes doesn't understand the freedoms we have her in the Rzeczpospolita"
The crown Prince Smiled at Kwiatowski.

"Shall we proceed to Oleska! I am eager to see these 'Hoplitóws' in action! I have heard so much about them!"




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