Mission to Podolia

Warsaw, January 23, 1696

Wilanow palace, Warsaw

Crown Prince Jakub was outside his fathers quarters, waiting for Doctor O'Connor to leave. His father had been unwell these last years and lately had been receiving intensive treatment from the Irish physician.

The door opened and the physician steppe out. To the anxious questions of the prince he could just give a chagrined smile and said to him, "Your father is waiting for you."

Jakub Sobieski

Jakub entered the king's chambers. The king was in his bed. Far from being the impressive hero figure the king has since his victory in Vienna retired from active campaigning due to health problems.

"Fanfanikiem,  come here." The ruler called his son over to his bedside.  "You know i have been ill for a while now, but things are coming to an end..."

"But father, the doctors have been predicting your iminent death for the last 2 years!!!" cried the Prince

"Shhh, quiet son. I won't leave today, nor tomorrow, but my health is also not improving. In fact it is getting worse" 

"You know we have been trying everything to improve your chances of getting the crown after I am gone, but as things stand, you will still need to get elected for this honor."

"As you know there are factions at court that still clai you have no right to the throne, being the son of a Hetman, not born when I was king."

"There are many pretenders to the throne. Lubomirski and Potoki are already with Hetman Jablonowski.  And they know just as much as we do, how a good military victory can improve ones chances to being elected King" said the King with a gleam in his eye.

" I have just received a report from Podolia, showing that the Emir of Lehistan, Kemik Kiran, is readying his forces for a spring or summer campaign. He is amassing troops from Crimea, Rumelia and the desert Nations. Rumours have it he is even recruiting chinese archers... at least he is bringing chinsese arrows!?!"

Kemik Kirans Horde amassing with Delis, Tartars, Janissarys, Bazi-bazouhs, and the mysterious Chinese Arrows...

"Son, I am asking you to take our troops and those loyal to us down there, assist the Hetman, but make sure that when the crushing blow falls, it is your hand that is guiding the mace! Crush them before they can crush us! And if you can win back Podolia, the crown will be yours for sure.

Go to Oleska. Rotamaster Krefeldski is already training and assembling some banners of Haidjuks and Dragoons, that will come in usefull in the hilly region you will be operating in."

The King gave his son a parting embrace.

"Good Luck!"

A most fortuitous messenger...

Dresden 21 May 1696
"Sire, Master Patkul has arrived with news from Warsaw. "
"Bring him in quickly"
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Johann Patkul, nobleman  and agitator for Livonian freedom from Sweden, had authored the alliance of Russia Saxony and Denmark against Sweden's Baltic posessions.
He had come directly from Warsaw where his mission was to convince (better said bribe") Polish szlachta to vote for his patron Augustus II of Saxony.
"Your Majesty, the throne of Poland is yours! I have just returned from a meeting with the last of the great magnate families of the Commonwealth. After breaking news of  the "incestuous" situation of the Prince of Conti they were most outraged. The letters of credit provided by Berend Lehmann helped immensily in demonstrating your Majesty's...ehm, generosity.
We have obtained the support of the Szlachta Magnates. They have convened again in the Middle of June for the last and final vote."
"Most Excellent my dear Paktul, I could be more pleased. Mr Behrend has been keeping me informed of the prodigious cost we have been running. I shall order the Master of Ceremonies to be ready to leave as soon as we receive news of the result."
" Sire, the Poles love a bold king, who takes charge. They are a volatile people, and need a strong hand to guide them. I suggest to leave as soon as possible and be there when the results are given, to accept the crown, or if necessary take it!!"
"You are a rascal Patkul, but I like the way you think! Besides we cannot afford to have somebody else win the crown now. Have a rest.  We will get the troops together and shall set of forthwith!! "

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Meanwhile in a Palace in Poland.
"And you are sure they will not find out who fooled them?"
"Sire, The letters of credit he used are not forged, just that the account they were drawing on is of long defunct. Shall we say,  Monsieur Paktul Polish is most abysmal."
"And where are the funds now?"
"In a safe place, Sire."
"You play a dangerous game." said the prince with a smile.
"The games worth playing are all dangerous" replied the banker, "but I admit even I could not have thought of or executed such an ingenious scheme without the most skillful help of Mademoiselle de Granville."

To win a crown

Prince Jakub paced the room in a state of marked agitation.

"This Granville of yours, by what means do you know him? I should not need to remind you, my dear Rittmeister, what is at stake?"

"No your Majesty, I am per..."

"Don't call me that!!! I am at the moment more distant of gaining my fathers crown than any crown prince in history. And it all depends on this ghost of a Granville. Curse your machinations Krefeld!!
If it weren't for you I could have sold my votes long ago. God knows I have received some fine offers recently, to allow me to live nobly in Vienna or Paris."

"If the prince so desires..."

"No,no, I am but in distress to find a way out of this mess. Poland needs and deserves a Polish king, and stay clear of being a pawn in the hands of foreign powers... and who else but a Pole could control the exuberance of our own nobles? But with the way things stand, how am I to convince the nobles to stand behind me. We both know, they only vote for gold!!!"

The princes companion keep quiet. What was there to say, after all the Prince was right. All they could do is wait. Looking out the great windows to the bustling the streets below, he saw a 4 horse coach pull into the prince's palace. it seem visitors were about to arrive.


True enough, the House servant entered shortly afterwards:


" Sire, 2 visitors have presented themselves atthe door, saying you are expecting them?"


The prince shot his compnion an enquiring look. The latter just raised an eyebrow.
"Well who are they?"


" The gentleman is a jew, goes by the name of Mordechai Goldfeder." the lackey mentioned, not even in religiously tolerant Poland has this persecuted people been free of prejudice.
"The lady accompanying him, presented herself as Krystyna Skarbek,  Countess of Granville."


"GRANVILLE!!!" exclaimed the prince, "Countess... so Granville is ..."

"... a Woman" a decidedly feminine voice said from the doorway.
"Your Highness, I hope you will excuse the intrusion, but as I am sure you understand, I have important news to share with you." said the Countess, entering the room completely, closely followed by a very well dressed gentleman, the banker Mordechai Goldfeder.