Citadels of Fire

by L.K. Hill

  Chapter 12

  Moscow, 1547

  Inga skidded to a stop in the kitchen, finding it empty. Seeing the open door nearby, Inga hurried through it. The coronation ceremony would soon begin. When it ended, the feasting would begin, and the kitchens must be ready.

  The air outside felt chilly. Spring had arrived, but winter’s icy fingers still clung to the mornings. Bodgan and his staff stood on the lawn outside the kitchens, waiting for the festivities to begin.

  “Bogdan!” she called.

  Bogdan turned his head to see who called him. When he recognized Inga, he turned the rest of his body and strode toward her. He’d been working in the kitchens since Inga was six. Seventeen winters later, his hair and well-groomed beard were laced with gray, and fine wrinkles adorned the corners of his eyes and mouth. Food perpetually stained his clothes, and he had a habit of wiping his hands on his smock, even when they didn’t need to be cleaned.

  “Yehveh says that after the ceremony, the grand prince—I mean the tsar—will walk around to all the cathedrals,” Inga said. “He wants the people to see him kiss the icons. If you come back right after the coronation, you should have two hours to prepare the feast before the tsar’s return. You shouldn’t have to leave the ceremony early.

  Bogdan nodded. “Good. I don’t want to miss any part of it. It will be something to see.”

  “Will you get into the cathedral?”

  “Only the most important will make it into the cathedral, but people will look through windows and pass news to the masses. We should have a fair idea of what is happening.”

  One of the under-cooks called Bogdan, then, motioning frantically. Bogdan shrugged, winked at Inga, and strode away.

  Inga allowed herself a deep breath. She’d been running like a mad woman all day in preparation for the coronation. Finally, she had no more errands. Perhaps she ought to hide before someone gave her something else to do.

  “Psst! Inga!”

  Inga searched for the voice. Natalya crouched around the corner from the kitchen. She motioned for Inga to join her.

  When she got to Natalya, Inga smiled. Natalya’s stance reminded her of when they were children and Natalya had some great secret she didn't want Yehvah discovering.

  “What is it?”

  “Inga, I thought of a way we can see the coronation.”

  “We won’t be able to see it. We can’t get through the cathedral door.”

  Natalya smiled conspiratorially. “Maybe we won’t have to.” Still grinning, she took Inga’s hand and darted away. Inga allowed herself to be pulled along by her friend. She would miss Natalya.

  Fifteen minutes later, they approached the Cathedral of Dormition. The front entrance, through which the grand prince—soon to be the tsar—would enter, was choked with spectators. Inga and Natalya skirted the crowd until they reached the side of the Cathedral, which were almost completely clear. The windows sat too high to see anything here, so people crowded around the entrances instead. Natalya led Inga to the back of the massive cathedral.

  The back courtyard had been partitioned off for repairs. Many years and harsh Russian winters caused the outermost stones near the roof to crumble. Stonemasons had been called in, but they weren’t working today—not on the day of the historical coronation.

  Tall wooden scaffolds, built to hold the stonemasons while they worked, leaned against the structure. Ladders ran up the sides and reached to the roof. Without pause, Natalya climbed onto one of them. Inga grabbed her arm.

  “What are you doing?”

  Natalya giggled. “Do you remember when we were little and Yehvah brought us to mass here? We would escape and explore that tiny attic upstairs?”

  “I remember.”

  “And do you also remember a window that looked down into this courtyard?” Natalya pointed upward.

  Below the roofline were carved long, thin windows. From the ground, they looked too skinny to fit a person through. In truth, a grown man could easily fit through one.

  Natalya did not point to one of those, however. Below one of the skinny windows sat another, octagonal one. Inga recognized it immediately.

  “How did you remember that? I haven’t thought about that room in years.”

  Natalya beamed proudly. “Came to me this morning. What do you say we climb up there and peek at the coronation?”

  Inga tried not to smile but failed miserably. “Don’t you think we’re too old for girlish games?”

  Natalya’s smile broadened. “Inga, I’m getting married next week, and I want one more magical afternoon to be a little girl with my best friend. Come on.” Without a backward glance, Natalya scrambled up the wooden ladder.

  Inga glanced around, her sense of responsibility warring with her sense of adventure. The two of them could get in trouble for this. She grinned and followed Natalya up.

  Nothing more than a glorified storage space, the attic held trunks of papers and scrolls no one in the cathedral had seen in years. Cobwebs and dust occupied any space where two or more surfaces came together. Both women made it easily through the small window. Even with all the boxes and trunks, they could have fit a dozen people into the attic.

  Natalya peeked out through the curtains. She motioned Inga to come forward. The thick curtain that partitioned off the ugly storage area from the rest of the cathedral was faded and dusty on this side. On the other side, a balcony ran the length of the room. If they scooted forward to the railing, they could look down into the main area, where the coronation would take place.

  “We’d better wait to go out until the ceremony starts,” Inga whispered, keeping her voice low “Otherwise someone might expel us.” Natalya nodded in agreement.

  Everything about the cathedral smacked of a decadence Inga could hardly imagine. In the center of the room, a plus purple cloth draped a high dais. Two thrones sat on top of it. They were covered with sparkling gold material. A nearby table held several vestments which would be presented to the new tsar, including a jewel-encrusted crown, an ornamented crucifix, a staff, and a rich stole to lay across his shoulders. Thousands of candles lit the room and monstrous chandeliers hung from the ceilings.

  A scratching at the window made Inga and Natalya catch their breath. Someone else was climbing up. Inga searched for a place to hide. Trunks lined the walls, but were packed in closely with no open space between them. All were padlocked. Hiding inside would not be an option. Natalya jumped to her feet and walked to the window. Inga gaped at her friend. She wondered if she’d ever have Natalya’s nerve for confrontation.

  “Yehvah?” Natalya barked a laugh of relief and reached out to help the older woman in.

  Yehvah made it with minimal grumbling, then stood up directly into a thick cobweb. She mumbled something about the place needing a good dusting.

  “Yehvah, how did you know where we'd gone?” Inga asked.

  “I saw you sneaking away in the shadow of the wall. You two aren’t particularly subtle, you know.”

  Natalya laughed, clapping her hands together. “Did you know about this place, Yehvah, or did you think we'd actually sneak into the coronation room?”

  “Of course I knew. Did the two of you think when you used to sneak off during mass that I didn’t know where you were? I always kept a watchful eye on you, even when you didn’t know it.”

  Inga laughed in disbelief. It amazed her how much Yehvah knew that Inga thought she’d kept hidden. Now Yehvah scowled from Inga to Natalya and back again. She glanced casually at the curtain. A forced kind of casual.

  “Is the view any good?”

  Inga smiled broadly. “It’s excellent.”

  Yehvah pretended to look at the high corners of the room as an excuse to turn her nose up. Trying to look disgruntled, she finally said, “Well, make room for me.”