East meets North | Morning, Saturday 24th September, 1678

[Douglas FitzJames]

The letter from the secretary of the Ambassador of Moscow, asking to discuss a matter of 'possible mutual interest' had been entirely unexpected. Douglas had never encountered the man before, but clearly somehow he had heard of him. The big Scotsman, unaccustomted to being called upon by Ambassadors, was wary but intrigued. So it was that he arrived in the Van Dyk Room of Windsor as requested, resplendent in his red velvet Life Guard's uniform with it's gold edging and copious lace. His man Aed had polished his high boots and buffed the weapons that Douglas wore thrust through the silk sash about his waist. 

Commandeering the group of comfortable chairs by the fire, the big man waited to see that Moscow had in store for him. 

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

A few minutes before the appointed hour, the Ambassador arrived. A muscular man over six feet tall, probably in his early fourties, his head crowned by a black, cylindrical hat that added at least another cubit to his figure. He wore black, loose, silk trousers, and an unusual long outer garment, open in front, with very wide short sleeves and a fitted back. It was made of blue raw silk with embroidered plum flowers and branches in gold and silver metallic threads, and brown and pink silk threads. Gold-thread bobbin lace adorned his sleeves, and his collar was full of large sapphire cabochons. The garment was wrapped over left-to-right and held in place by gold studs. The man carried no noticeable weapons, but held a glass bottle on his left hand, with a light-green liquid inside.

Once Pyotr noticed the Scotsman, he quickly traversed the space with long strides, and introduced himself. "I am Pyotr Fedorovich Sheremetev, Okolnichy, and ambassador of the Tsardom of Russia to the Kingdom of England. Do I have the honour of addressing Captain FitzJames, Baron Dundarg?" He half-bowed stiffly from the waist. Not waiting for an affirmative answer, he sat in the chair less likely to break under his weight, and set the bottle on a nearby table. "Russian aqua vitae", he explained, "to take the edge off the morning chill".

Edited July 10 by Pyotr Fedorovich

[Douglas FitzJames]

That had to be the Russian. The man was dressed deliberately to stand out, even when he stood out by virtue of physique alone. Douglas immediately rose to his feet, of a height with the Ambassador but with a more rangy build. He bowed deeply as Pyotr introduced himself. "Th'honour's mine, Yer Excellency."* Douglas responded courteously in turn, returning to his seat once the other man had settled himself, noting the gleam of gems and gold thread in the early morning light that streamed in through the windows opposite. 

The Scots were big drinkers, but Douglas was a little surprised when the Ambassador set a bottle on the table with the suggestion that they drink at such an hour of the morning. Plus it was green. "Verra kind o' ye." He said politely. Douglas had sent the Ambassador a carved mother-of-pearl cravat pin as a gift with his letter, in return for the beautiful squirrel fur muff. "Thou' frae whit I hear ye, like mysel', wuid find this mornin' mild compared tae home."** He suggested. The Rus states were far distant lands, half myth and legend, but he'd heard they were cold and often covered in snow. Much like Scotland.

It seemed that cold bred men who thought similarly. Douglas reached inside his coat and produced a bottle full of an amber liquid, which he in turn set on the table with a wry smile. "A gift frae Scotland. We say uisge-beatha, which means the same thin'."*** He wondered what 'water of life' was in Russian.

Douglas wasn't dressed in a great kilt and sporran, but even so, by attire the two men couldn't look more different. Still, if the two bottles sitting on the table were any indication, perhaps they might have a little more in common than one might assume. 

Subtitles
* "The honour's mine, Your Excellency."
** "Very kind of you. Though from what I hear you, like myself, would find this morning mild compared to home."
*** "A gift from Scotland. We say water of life which means the same thing."

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

Pyotr’s whole ensemble had one purpose and one purpose only, to project an image. In this case, an exotic image of wealth and physical power. It was an ambassador’s duty to make his country seem as grand as he could, in as many ways as possible, at least when it was convenient to do so.

The ambassador carefully removed his hat before placing it on a chair nearby. The meeting was, after all, officially unofficial. On his head he wore a felt cap over closely cropped dirty blonde hair. He passed his left hand over the cap a couple of times before responding. “True, Captain, very true. Scots are some of the few that can soldier on even when General Winter is in full command”. It was a common expression among Russian soldiers. “Many of your compatriots have earned our respect because of that”. It was true. “We drink vodka because it is far healthier than water, and keeps the body warm when mead and beer do not. This is mild weather, so perhaps it can wait”.

Truth was that Pyotr had not known beforehand what type of man Douglas was. His secretary had told him that the Scot was a Life Guard officer, and that was not the greatest of recommendations in the Russian Nobleman’s opinion. He equated the quality of junior officers to that of their commanding officer. I might need to inform myself better next time, the Ambassador thought.

And then, the Scot produced a bottle. “Uisge”, the Russian smiled. “General Alexander Leslie of Achintoul introduced me to it. It is about twice as strong as our vodka, but the flavour differences between distilleries are more nuanced. This…” he pointed to the bottle on the table, “has been flavoured with birch buds. You will find the flavour interesting, I am sure…”

It was time to get to the point.

”You might wonder why I asked to meet you, Captain FitzJames”. The tone became businesslike. “Truth is, I had the most fortuitous encounter with the Lady Alyth. She spoke about you and told me you were a Life Guard. I asked the Northern Secretary for permission to meet with you, and he gave it readily. So, here we are”.

Pyotr fell silent. He did not want the meeting to become a monologue.

[Douglas FitzJames]

Scots were not something new to the Muscovite. But he was something new to Dundarg, who was still somewhat puzzled as to what the Rus Ambassador might want with him, but was willing to play along until he found out. He hadn't meant to imply that he didn't want the other man's offering, even as Pyotr explained their cultural love of their vodka,  and that the one he had brought had been flavoured with birch buds. Douglas supposed that explained the colour. "I wuid be interested tae try't." He assured the man, intrigued at the name dropped. "That wuid be he o' th'Crichie Leslies, wha was in service tae His Majesty's father." The big man observed. "Crichie isnae far frae Dundarg." Though the lands had been sold to another branch of the family when the General remained in Moscow. "This is frae an Aberdeen distillery. Sma' batch; ye cannae git it sooth o' the border."* He told the man. Hopefully it would be to his liking. 

Douglas absolutely was wondering why the Ambassador had asked to meet with him, and he noted again that he was addressed by his military rank. There in itself was a clue. Douglas laced his big hands together and listened with interest. His first thought was that it was something to do with the Life Guard, especially once the man mentioned it in connection with his sister, but surely if that was the case he'd be meeting with Ablemarle or Langdon, in their offices. This felt much more... unofficial. Personal. And yet the Ambassador had spoken to the Earl of Sutherland. Appropriate he supposed, but it didn't give a lot of clues. 

"A man's sister is oft his greatest champion." He replied on the subject of Cat. "An' he hers." Just in case the man was wondering. "Alas but the Regiment du Dumbarton ne'er served sae far east." If they had, he might have known more about the eastern European states. "Whit kin I do fer General Leslie's brothair in arms?"** He asked evenly, trying to keep his curiosity to himself. Douglas wasn't a diplomat, but here he was in a diplomatic situation, desperately trying not to fuck it up. He was sure they paid people to do this sort of thing. 

Subtitles
* "I would be interested to try it. That would be he of the Crichie Leslies, who was in service to His Majest;s father. Crichie isn't far from Dundarg."
** "A man's sister is often his greatest champion. And he hers. Alas but the Regiment du Dumbarton never served so far east. What can I do for General Leslie's brother in arms?"

Edited July 19 by Douglas FitzJames

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

"General Leslie has sadly passed away. He was a great soldier, and the Tsardom owes him a debt that we will never be able to repay", The Scot had modernized the Russian armies, after all. "Two of his sons are now respected colonels in the Tsar's regiments". There was a tinge of sadness mixed with respect in the Ambassador's voice. It sounded as if he missed the Scottish general. "General Alexander Leslie of Achintoul taught me to speak English, to drink uisge, and to use the choicest colorful metaphores in English, Scots, and Irish". That last had included learning the differences in intended insult between them and across languages. With a smirk, the Ambassador opened the bottle of vodka, and served two glasses. After giving one to Douglas, he raised his. "To General Leslie, and to all Scots that have fallen serving the Tsar with distinction". It was the man's way of honouring them.

The Russian waited for Douglas to raise his glass before emptying his own in one gulp.

To a courtier acquainted with oblique references and unstated intents, the choice of the dropped name would be noteworthy. The Ambassador could have instead mentioned General Patrick Gordon of Auchleuchries or General Paul Menzies of Aberdeen. Both men were alive and successfully serving in the Russian armies. So why focusing on Leslie? Only very keen and learned minds would make the jump to another General Alexander Leslie, that one the 1st Earl of Leven who, although being born illegitimate, had been raised to the Scottish peerage by Charles I in 1641 after having served with distinction in Swedish service for many years. Perhaps the more telling hint for those of the paranoid persuasion would have been that in August 1651, Lord Leven had been captured in the town of Alyth by a group of Cromwellian dragoons in an incident known as 'the Onfall of Alyth'  and then sent to the Tower. If his words had any double meaning, Pyotr was probably being too subtle and vague in his obliqueness. Questions still remained: was he hinting at something? If so, at what? Was his choice of words a mere coincidence? Only the Sheremetev prince knew.

"I have been authorized to ask a favour from you, Captain FitzJames. And it has to be a favour, because if any monies were to exchange hands, I would put you in the unenviable position of being in the employment of a foreign power as Lord Sunderland, the Northern Secretary so aptly put it, and that could stir His Majesty's enemies against you and against him". Although the request was nothing treasonous, everything had to remain above the board. "The Tsar's armies would like to recruit one or two regiments* of Scottish soldiers and officers for a period of no less than five years. Salaries would be paid monthly, in Scotland for those with families to support, or in Russia, for those that do not. Officers would receive premiums, of course, and those who wished to renew their contracts or remain in Russia after the five years are over would be welcome to do so". Scots were known not to fear the cold. "And before you question, no, I am not asking you to become an officer in the Russian armies; I am asking you to become the recruiting agent of those Scottish soldiers when your duties allow you to go to Scotland and spend time doing so".

There were details to discuss, of course, but Douglas would have to accept first. "So, are you interested, Captain FitzJames?" the Ambassador asked as he refilled glasses.

* Mercenary companies and regiments were not rare at the time. Irish regiments were common in Western Europe, but Scots were preferred in Sweden, Poland, and Russia for their endurance to cold.

Edited July 16 by Pyotr Fedorovich

[Douglas FitzJames]

Perhaps the Muscovite Ambassador was being a little obscure for the Scotsman before him, or perhaps the fact that the Earl of Leven led an army of Covenanters against the Crown made the link less obvious to the King-serving Douglas, despite the fact that the man had been a bastard raised to nobility for his service. Perhaps things would become a little more interesting for the big Highlander, when he'd had a chance to do a bit of reading later. 

For now he was more than happy to drink a toast to a man whom Pyotr clearly remembered fondly. "Tae General Leslie an' aw Scots fallen." He echoed, lifting his glass. "Gheibhear clach air a'charraig, ach cha gheibhear carraig air a'chàil." He added, before following the other man's lead and tossing the drink back in one shot. It was smooth, the pine flavour intriguing, though Douglas could see why the drink had been flavoured, it seemed to taste of little else. Still, it was rather pleasant. "Tis a guid drop."* He said politely, before setting his glass down. 

The pleasantries aside, the Ambassador seemed ready to get down to business, and Douglas listened with interest as Pyotr set forward his proposal. And it was an interesting one. "I appreciate yer consideration." He began. "I serve my King, an' I wuidnae want tae gie reason fer that tae be doobted." He said firmly. It was one of the solid pillars of Douglas's existence. But a favour generally resulted in a favour in turn, that was how things worked amongst the nobility. Quite what that might be, he didn't know, but he suspected that it would be worth finding out. The answer to the unasked question drew an amused smirk from Dundarg. "Aye, much I as wuid like tae see yer hameland one dae, my service is here."** If he hadn't sworn his service to the King then he might be interested in such an opportunity. It was the kind of thing that would draw second, third and bastard sons to be officers. 

Indeed, there might well be many who would appreciate such an opportunity, though two regiments was a lot of men. "Aye, I am interested, Ambassador." He said. Why mess around. There were plenty of details to hash out of course, but Douglas saw this as an opportunity, not just for himself but for many sons of Scotland. Now he thought he understood why Pyotr had opened with mention of General Leslie. "I assume that Moscow haes a particular direction in mind fer these men?"*** He said, curious as to what the distant Tsardom intended. 

Subtitles
* "To General Leslie and all fallen Scots. A stone may be found on a rock, but not a rock on it's back." (i.e. you won't find a hero sitting around) It's a good drop.
** "I appreciate your consideration. I serve my King, and I wouldn't want to give reason for that to be doubted. Yes, much as I would like to see your homeland one day, my service is here."
*** "Yes, I am interested, Ambassador. I assume that Moscow has a particular direction in mind for these men?"

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

The Ambassador smiled. Lady Alyth did me a great service recommending her brother. I must thank her the next the next time I see her.

"Perhaps when you duties allow you can visit Moscow. You would be well received..." Or so I hope. "I cannot state openly who or where those recruited would fight, but I can say that it will be in the Baltic region". Given recent history, that would mean either the Swedish Empire or the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. Both had bloodied the Russian nose more than once, and the Tsar wanted payback. "Let us say that the Tsar is interested in building a large commercial port in the Baltic, and needs to acquire the land to do so". Medium-sized ships could navigate through Ingria via river, and Sweden did not mind, as long as they were not at war with the Russians.

"As for conditions, one month's wages will be paid in advance at the moment of signing up..." many could not read or write, but they could make their mark with a quill. "They will then be taken by ship to Russia, where companies will be formed. Each company will consist of 100 men, a captain, a lieutenant, two drummers, and two pipers..." Pyotr's face contorted into a ferocious grin. "General Leslie proved the usefulness of using the wail of the bane-sidhe to unsettle the enemy before an assault". Russia did not have as much fog as the Highlands, but attacking during snowfall, before the freeze, had become a successful tactic. "We would like to see between twenty and thirty companies of foot recruited, to be divided evenly between two regiments". That meant between two and three thousand men. 

"Those that speak German or, even better, Russian, have first pick for officer or signaller posts. But if there are not enough of those, the most able will have to learn the language. Regimental Colonels will be Russian at first, with a Scottish, English, or Irish adjutant, to make sure the men understand what they are being asked to do, but we expect the cream to rise to the top, and eventually the colonels will be Scots. There will be a few months of training in the outskirts of Moscow until companies can fight cohesively. They will live in wooden barracks during that time. Food will be mostly Russian, but I have been told that some enterprising cooks have learned to make passable haggis". Although the Army prikaz had strict guidelines as to what recruits should eat, regimental and army commanders turned a blind eye to cultural foods. They tended to help morale, not hinder it. "Vodka will be plentiful, although uisge will be rare". Officers would probably be able to procure it, but common soldiers would find it out of their reach.

Finaly, the topic of pay. A big topic, as mercenaries were often paid much later than agreed to, if at all. The Tsar had given specific instructions not to go that route.

"Salary is to be the standard Wester European mercenary pay plus a third. Solicitors will be retained as payroll agents in the Scottish cities you decide. They each will have a list of locals to pay monies to every first of the month. If a recruit dies, word will reach the solicitor, who will advise the family, and pay six months of salary to the family". Each case would have to be handled separately, thus the retaining of solicitors. "Officers will be handled a bit differently. Family will receive nine months of salary, and the body will be laid to rest in a proper tomb in a cemetery whenever possible". That usually meant when winning the battle.

Finally...

"Finally, I have been advised to let you know that you should ask the Duke of Lauderdale where he wants you to focus your recruiting efforts. If I understand correctly, there are regions of Scotland where he would prefer to see men volunteering for military service abroad". The Ambassador's face did not show it, but the words hinted at there being something behind them.

"Is there anything else you would like to know?"

Edited July 19 by Pyotr Fedorovich

[Douglas FitzJames]

Douglas would like to travel to Moscow, amongst other places on the continent. One day. It would be a long trip however and he took his duties in Scotland very seriously. His duties were in many ways what defined him; raising the man others pushed down had resulted in a very loyal subject. The big man nodded when Pyotr said that the recruits would be fighting in the Baltic region. "I'm sure ye un'erstand that His Majesty wuidnae want his subjects fichtin' agin allies o' the Croon."* He said plainly. Beyond that, the Tsardom might do with their regiments what they would. 

The Highlander matched the Russian's grin when the other man spoke of the pipers. The mournful wail of a single piper could echo through the mists and steep valleys of the Highlands of Scotland, connecting those otherwise separated by terrain, but the blast of several pipers playing in unison could overwhelm sound and put the fear into the enemy. "Er ye offerin' extra pay fer pipers?" Not all men could play, and he who paid the piper called the tune. "I'm glad General Leslie gied ye an appreciation fer the pipes. Yer enemies weel like thaim less." It was a terrible noise when it wasn't your own. "Fer some reason, folk ne'er ask me tae play at coort."** He mock-complained dryly. There were 'parlour pipes' of course, but what was the point? You might as well play a tin pipe. People just didn't appreciate that the correct way to listen to the Highland bagpipes was from three hills away, through the mist. 

As the conditions for the recruits were described Douglas listened carefully, knowing that here was his opportunity to advocate for his fellow countrymen. This was an opportunity for many; some would not return but those who did would be richer, and it would bring money into Scotland. "Ye may find a fair few lads wha speak Dutch. Those wha, like mysel', focht in th'Anglo-Dutch wars. Tis similar tae German, I un'erstand." And might also prove a language bridge whilst the officers learned Russian. He chuckled at the mention of haggis. Some would thank the Russians for it, some wouldn't. "I'm sure the lads cuid teach yer cuiks a few recipes; we tend tae eat simply throu' the winters. Smoked fish an' turneeps weel hae the feel o' hame."*** And if the cooks could learn to make Cullen Skink - smoked fish and turnip soup - then they could feed many on long-keeping supplies. But he didn't doubt the Russians had their own equivalents. He didn't doubt the recruits would get used to vodka. 

As the discussion turned towards pay, Douglas turned thoughtful, as he was also aware that hired mercenaries were often paid late, if at all, and that wasn't a good way to retain loyalty. He also wanted to ensure that there was good money coming into Scotland. Standard plus a third was good pay, and a six month pay to the families of soldiers who died pre-empted what Dundarg had been prepared to insist on. "Those er acceptable terms." He agreed. "But a wee word tae the wise." He added. "We Scots tak oor oaths verra seriously, but an oath gies both wa's." He said. "Traditionally a Laird haed as much duty tae his clan an' tenants as they tae him. Yer Scottish recruits weel be extremely loyal, sae lang as their loyalty is rewarded. But thair er plenty o' examples throu' history o' a Laird failin' his word, an' his men rebellin'." And twelve Scots and a bagpipe made a rebellion. "Sae ye weel want tae mak sure yer lads git paid." He said bluntly. "Keep thair faith, an' ye wilnae find a better body o' men."+ He assured the Ambassador. 

Oh yes, Douglas didn't doubt that Lauderdale would prefer recruits from certain areas. "He weel suggest focusin' on the Heelan's." Douglas noted. "We Heelanders hae a stronger tolerance fer the cauld." Which was no explanation. They harboured a greater number of Covenanters. "I weel speak wi' him first."++ He assured Pyotr. Lauderdale had his fingers in all that went on in Scotland. 

Was there anything else? "Hou fast er ye wantin' these recruits?" He asked. Two to three thousand was a lot of men. "I kin recruit in the toons, but the feudal richt tae recruit frae tenants lies wi' thair Laird." Who was generally obliged to raise a regiment should the crown have need. "Ye cuid haps offer greater consideration fer th'officers commissions tae those noble sons wha brouchtit men wi' thaim."+++ Let the noble houses do a bit of recruiting for them. If a third son arrived with a hundred men from his father's lands in tow, he might automatically become a Captain of that company. 

Subtitles
* "I'm sure you understand that His Majesty wouldn't want his subjects fighting against allies of the Crown."
**Are you offering extra pay for pipers? I'm glad General Leslie gave you an appreciation for the pipes. Your enemies will like them less. For some reason, people never ask me to play at court."
*** "You may find a fair few men who speak Dutch. Those who, like myself, fought in the Anglo-Dutch wars. It's similar to German, I understand. I'm sure the men could teach your cooks a few recipes; we tend to eat simply through the winters. Smoked fish and turnips will have the feel of home."
+ "Those are acceptable terms. But a word to the wise. We Scots take our oaths very seriously, but an oath goes both ways. Traditionally a Lord had as much duty to his clan and tenants as they to him. Your Scottish recruits wills be extremely loyal, so long as their loyalty is rewarded. But there are plenty of examples through history of a Lord failing his word, and his men rebelling. So you will want to make sure your men get paid. Keep their faith, and you won't find a better body of men."
++ "He will suggest focusing on the Highlands. We Highlanders have a stronger tolerance for the cold. I will speak with him first."
+++ "How fast are you wanting these recruits? I can recruit in the towns, but the feudal right to recruit from tenants lies with their Lord. You could perhaps offer consideration for the officers' commissions to those noble sons who bring men with them."

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

"Signallers, both pipers and drummers, will get extra pay. Marching towards the enemy without a weapon in your hand takes a special kind of courage, and it should be rewarded". Most soldiers could learn the drums, but not all soldiers could keep at them in the face of danger. "Pipes are an acquired taste, Captain Dundarg, just like uisge. Do not hold it against Englishmen that they are not used to their sweet song", the Ambassador said with a mischievous grin. "Horses get skittish too, not only men, which can be used to a regiment's advantage". In war, you used all the advantages you could get, spooking enemy horses included.

"Officially, officers should frown on deviating from standard rations..." Pyotr paid lip service to what the Army Prikaz ordered. "Unofficially, even Russian colonels turn a blind eye, and even partake, of other nations' foods". At least it added some variety to their diet. "I am certain that new recipes will be welcomed, and adjusted to the ingredients available. Fish, turnips, and cabbage you can count on, that is for sure". Grains would also be plentiful.

When the topic turned to loyalty, the Russian prince turned serious. "Loyalty must go both ways, Captain. We will pay promptly, something you will be able to oversee in Scotland. But know that any deserters will be executed, shot in the back if need be". That was standard procedure but needed to be stated. "Other than that, recruits will see that even the sternest officers will turn a blind eye to the occasional looting, as long as those in the receiving end of their tender mercies are not Russian". Not the most gentlemanly of conducts, but the opportunity of additional income tended to keep morale up. War was not the nicest of endeavours. "Treatment of civilians will depend on who the officer in charge is, but at least a modicum of restraint will be expected".

The Highlands? Hmm... "Highlanders who wield two-handed swords will be more than welcome". The perfect counter to a berserker charge. "And if a nobleman were to bring at least half a company with him, he has first shot at becoming the company Captain". That would help with company cohesion, that was certain. "As for how much time you have, I think around a year and a half, perhaps a bit more, but not much. I know you cannot raise thirty companies in a month. Not unless your homeland is being invaded, which is not, so we do not expect immediate results".

The ambassador downed his second glass of vodka. He hoped everything had been clear, although he would explain anything that needed explaining. He understood that his English might not be the best.

"Anything else?"

[Douglas FitzJames]

"Aye, horses, coos an' sassanach run frae the pipes."* He grinned. Douglas was well aware of the effects of the Highland pipes tended to have on those unaccustomed to the sound. He was glad that Pyotr obviously was as well. It was an easy way to spook both men and cavalry horses, reducing the moral of both. And most horses didn't have a lot of sense to start with.

Fish, turnips and cabbage could cover a lot of the fare that Scottish commoners were accustomed to, along with onions and bread, so that was all to the good. Having to deal with unfamiliar food that the troops didn't care for was only somewhat worse for morale than not enough food at all. Good rations boosted morale. As did getting paid on time. The fact that he would be able to oversee the provision of the pay in Scotland was reassuring, though he didn't doubt the Ambassador's word. He understood bureaucracy and how it could get in the way of such things. But Pyotr's blunt words on deserters drew only a curt nod from Dundarg. "I wuid expect nae less." He said. The Regiment du Dumbarton was no different. You had to be able to count on your men. The rest was standard. Looting was permitted in moderation, civilians were dealt with as per the commanding officer. "Treat thaim weel, an' ye weel hae nae stooter men."** He assured the Ambassador. Scots were accustomed to toughing things out, so long as they had the basics.

"Ye want the claidheamh-mòr?" Douglas asked, intrigued. The English tended to view the Scottish Greatsword as a backwards holdover in their northern brethren, which it was in the face of a musket, but less so in the face of a sword or axe. "I weel git ye as mony as I kin." He was glad that Sheremetev was open to nobles bringing their own men; serving under their own lords as officers would help morale and communication. "Eighteen months thain." Douglas nodded. That was a reasonable space of time. Hopefully he could get the men the Ambassador wanted faster than that, but it was good to know that the timeline was realistic. "I weel put thin's in motion once coort is ended, whin I return tae Scotland."*** Which he intended to be immediately. He wasn't exactly certain how long court would tarry at Windsor after the Christening, but he didn't imagine it would be long. Autumn was a good time to recruit too, when the promise of regular pay looked good to people possibly facing a hard winter.

"Nocht else aboot the recruitin', nae." Dundarg shook his head. "Tis clear enou'. Is thair ocht ye wuid like tae ask me?"+ He asked in turn, in case the man had questions.

Subtitles
* "Yes, horses, cows and English run from the pipes."
** "I would expect no less. Treat them well, and you will have no stouter men."
*** "You want the claymore? I will get you as many as I can. Eighteen months then. I will put things in motion once court is ended, when I return to Scotland."
+ "Nothing else about the recruiting, no. It's clear enough. Is there anything you would like to ask me?"

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

After serving along three different Scottish generals fighting under the Russian flag, the Ambassador had a good idea as to what a Scots regiment could provide. One of the most important things was to lead by example. Although Scottish soldiers were not the epitome of discipline, the Rus were even less so. Only Cossacks were less disciplined than Russians, which was the reason Muscovite war planners never really counted on them, except when plunder was useful as a diversion.

Regiments that could be fielded and give a good example to the rest were needed by the Tsar’s armies. Although Germans would have been the best choice, the Thirty Years’ War had decimated the German states, while Sweden and Poland hired as many German soldiers as they could. So, the Sheremetev prince had proposed that Scots be hired instead. With the approval of the Army Prikaz, he had been sent by the Tsar to London to arrange that.

”They will be treated fairly, you have my word, Captain FitzJames. As for the claymores, there are few weapons as deadly when sleet, snow, or rain make muskets unusable, which where these men are going is bound to happen a lot of the time”. Powder would get wet. Cold hands would shake. Visibility would drop to a few yards. Muskets would be useful, of course, but not as much as in other theaters of war. “Besides, when Swedish berserkers charge your lines, two-handed swords are your best defense”.

Pyotr served more vodka. “I am curious, Captain. Your sister told me that I should call you by your military rank instead of by your title. May I ask why it is so?” The more he understood local customs, the more efficient the Ambassador would be at his job.

[Douglas FitzJames]

Douglas had the Ambassador's word that Scottish recruits would be treated fairly and, lacking any reason to doubt the man, that was good enough for him. From the sound of things the Muscovites wanted claymores for the same reason that the Scots still used them. In places where it was too wet, too cold or the visibility too poor to use a musket, a socking great sword served very well indeed. "We still use thaim fer the same reasons." He observed. "I hae ne'er seen a Swedish berserker, an' I'm thinkin' tis ocht tae be glad o."* He added dryly. So it was Sweden that the the Tsar was going to war against.

An arrangement reached, the two men relaxed and the Ambassador poured another round of vodka, before posing an entirely different question, why had Catriona recommended calling him by his military title. Douglas swallowed his instinctive fucked if I ken and thought how best to answer. "Haps because she kent ye wanted tae speak o' military matters." He suggested at length. The truth was that he didn't really know, he could only guess. "In coortly circles, 'Baron Dundarg' is correct." He said plainly, to avoid confusing the man. "But ye cuid say I earned my place at coort through my military service." The Scotsman elaborated. "I'm sure ye ken that Lairdy Alyth is my hae-sister; I'm illegitimate." He said bluntly. "But I worked my wa' up throu' the Regiment du Dumbarton - much as some o' these laddies yer recruitin' weel - an' thain the Life Guards, so I'm a military man first, an' prood o' the fact."** Which might have been what Cat was getting at.

Of course, they were both trying to cross cultural gaps. Pyotr used terms which Douglas assumed were types of titles but otherwise had no understanding of. Perhaps he should explain. "In England an' Ireland, a Baron is the lowest noble rank guaranteed a seat in Parliament. In Scotland the equivalent is a Laird o' Parliament, an' both er conveyed by Royal decree. In Scotland houe'er, 'Baron' is an auld, feudal title, but unlike th'others it kin be bought, an' sauld."*** Which meant that there was nothing to stop him collecting a few of them, if the opportunity presented itself, though Douglas was more interested in estates than titles these days. Estates meant income. It meant that his title was of lower precedence than one might expect, but he didn't care. He had it and that was what mattered. Would the Ambassador think less of him for that?

"In the spirit o' mutual un'erstandin', haps ye micht be willin' tae explain whit a 'Prikaz' is, an' whit 'Okolnichy' means?"+ He enquired politely, tossing back his second shot of vodka now that he'd finished speaking for the moment. He was curious to learn more about the Rus culture.

Subtitles
* "We still use them for the same reasons. I have never seen a Swedish berserker, and I'm thinking it's something to be glad of."
** "Perhaps because she knew you wanted to speak on military matters. In courtly circles, 'Baron Dundarg' is correct. But you could say I earned my place at court through my military service. I'm sure you know that Lady Alyth is my half-sister; I'm illegitimate. But I worked my way up through the Regiment du Dumbarton - much as some of these men you're recruiting will - and then the Life Guards, so I'm a military man first, and proud of the fact."
*** "In England and Ireland, a Baron is the lowest noble rank guaranteed a seat in Parliament. In Scotland the equivalent is a Lord of Parliament, and both are conveyed by Royal decree. In Scotland however, 'Baron' is an old, feudal title, but unlike the others it can be bought, and sold."
+ "In the spirit of mutual understanding, perhaps you might be willing to explain what a 'Prikaz' is, and what 'Okilnichy' means?"

 

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

"Thank you for enlightening me, Baron Dundarg". Whether the Ambassador knew that Douglas was a bastard or not, he gave no signal one way or the other. He would have made a poor diplomat if he had. It would also have been poor form to mention that in Russia, the Orthodox Church's way to discourage bastards was to make sure they could not be gifted or inherited anything by their parents. They were usually abandoned at the door of a church, and their lot in life was dismal, to say the least. Still... perhaps this Baron is the person I need... "May any person buy a Scottish Barony, or only Scots? Who are they bought from, the Crown? Does land come attached to such Baronies?" The Ambassador's face was a pleasant and smiling, but there was a glint of interest in his eye.

As Douglas downed his glass of vodka, Pyotr did the same before refilling both glasses. It seems Scots know how to drink. Good! It is a good skill to have when doing favours to Russia. "A Prikaz is a government department. There are many in Moscow. Some are small, with little power, while some are very big, with huge influence. Most are somewhere in the middle". The Sheremetev prince tried to keep things simple. "The Tsar may ask a person to lead one, or many, as he wishes. Furthermore, a man's standing ebbs and flows according to his past and present posts..."

Something else needed to be explained.

"In Russia, you are either born a noble, or you are not. But even if you are born the cousin of the Tsar, your standing is not determined by birth, but by service. For example, I am a Sheremetev, and Sheremetevs descend from the same ancestor as the Romanovs, whose head is the Tsar. But even so, I had to serve the Tsar if I wanted to become somebody. I chose the army as my path of service, started as a lieutenant in the Streltsy regiments... regiments in which every man is armed with a bardiche and an arquebus. I eventually rose to the rank of colonel, and finally to Voivode, Army Commander". That was an oversimplification of many years of service. "As my years of service and my military rank increased, I went from Stolnik, to Dyak, to Duma noble, to my current rank of Okolnichy. If my service pleases the Tsar, I may one day rise to the rank of Boyar, and become a member of the Tsar's Boyar Council.  Those five ranks I mentioned are roughly equivalent to Baron, Viscount, Earl, Marquess, and Duke in the English Peerage. Not exactly, but close enough for you to get an idea".

That extended families helped a man get the post of his choice, as well as promotions, was left unstated. The Ambassador was certain it was the same everywhere.

"So to answer your question, from an English point of view I am something akin to a Marquis that has been sent as an Ambassador, and who reports directly to the Foreign Department". It was not exactly so, but it was close enough. Perhaps, if you prove worthy, I will tell you more than this...

 

[Douglas FitzJames]

Douglas didn't care if the Ambassador hadn't known he was a bastard. In the familial sense anyway. It was common knowledge and he was sure to find out eventually; Douglas would rather he found out from him that by gossip. And he wouldn't have cared much even if Pyotr had told him about the Orthodox's stance on illegitimate children; from his point of view the only things his father gave him were his name and a half-arsed education, never mind that he'd been a less than enthusiastic participant in the latter. But he would have cared on behalf of the abandoned children; as a bastard himself he felt for his own kind. 

Pyotr's curiosity about the Scottish Baronies was interesting in itself. Douglas grinned. "Tis th'other way aroond; the title cams wi' the land." He explained. "In my case, I was granted the land by His Majesty, which was thain made a Barony." So Douglas was the first Baron Dundarg. "But wi' an extant Barony, the land an' the title that cams wi'it er purchased frae the current holder. Tis transferred in person, ritually, on th' land itsel', by bein' handed a clod er stone frae the land by the seller. Tis called 'Sasine',  an' is thain registered in the General Register o' Sasines." He explained. It was an ancient tradition and thus deeply ritualised. "I dinnae see why a foreigner cuidnae mak such a purchase, thou' one micht argue that, in acceptin' the land, ye becam a Scot." He added with a wink. "The man tae speir - tsk, arsk - wuid be Laird Moontjoy, the Solicitor General. I un'erstand that property law is his specialty."* Douglas suggested. He'd never had cause to discuss the subject with the man himself, but he'd heard that plenty of others consulted him. 

The Highlander listened with interest as the Ambassador explained something of how Russian society worked, and it was fascinating. So the son of a Duke didn't automatically become the next Duke, but rather was simply a 'noble' until their place was earned through service. Like himself, Pyotr had taken a military path to court, though far more extensively. No doubt power and influence helped greatly in getting the chance to prove one's self in the positions one preferred, but the simple idea that nobility was more of a meritocracy... Well, His Majesty raised those who pleased him, but the old families clung to their titles like a limpet to a rock. In Pyotr's world there was no such guarantee. 

"Thank ye fer explainin'." Douglas said once Pyotr had finished. "Greater understandin' o' each other weel surely lead tae better communication an' cooperation, which is aw tae the guid."** He said, raising his refilled glass in salute in Pyotr's direction before downing the third shot. 

"I'm thinkin' that, as Ambassador, ye micht surely be open tae speakin' aboot trade, an' wonderin' whither thairs ocht that Scotland micht offer Moscow, other thain her sons."*** Douglas said with a half-smile, feeling the relaxation from the vodka. 

Subtitles
* "It's the other way around; the title comes with the land. In my case, I was granted the land by His Majesty, which was then made a Barony. But with an extant Barony, the land and the title that comes with it are purchased from the current holder. It's transferred in person, ritually, on the land itself, by being handed a clod or stone from the land by the seller. It's called 'Sasine' and is then registered in the General Register of Sasines. I don't see why a foreigner coudln't make such a purchase, though one might argue that, in accepting the land, you become a Scot. The man to ask would be Lord Mountjoy, the Solicitor General. I understand that property law is his specialty."
** "Thank you for explaining. Greater understanding of each other will surely lead to better communication and cooperation, which is all to the good."
*** "I'm thinking that, as Ambassador, you might surely be open to speaking about trade, and wondering whether there's anything that Scotland might offer Moscow, other than her sons."

Edited July 29 by Douglas FitzJames

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

"To you!" the Okolnichy said in Russian before downing his glass.

The title is bound to the land, and the land can be bought and sold, either from the King, of from the current owner... interesting. "Lord Mountjoy, the Solicitor General, you say?" Perhaps I should speak with this... Solicitor General... whatever that is. The man had to be some sort of expert in the country's laws, Pyotr surmised. Probably an ancient sage.

"Aye, Captain, the greater the understanding, the greater the cooperation". The Russian sounded almost Scottish. "As for trade, yes, it is part of my mission to promote trade between Russia and King Charles' Three Kingdoms. I have already spoken with Lords Basildon and Kingston in that regard". But neither of them offered Scottish wares. "I have yet to speak with Sir Cedric Doolittle, who is the third person the Northern Secretary pointed me towards. Do you happen to know him? Do you know if he has any trading interests in Scotland?" If Sir Cedric did have trading operations in Scotland, perhaps it would be worth seeking him out again, even though he had not accepted the Ambassador's first invitation.

"What kind of wares does Scotland produce that might interest Rus traders?" Pyotr served yet another round of vodka. "And what products of the Orient do you think Scotland might want?" His curiosity was piqued.

[Douglas FitzJames]

It was of course an Ambassador's job to be likeable, but Douglas found himself appreciating Pyotr's frank way of discussion and doing business, whether that was Rus culture, the man himself or even his exposure to Scottish culture. No doubt he'd been chosen for this role in part due to his having served with Scots in the past, since at least one of his purposes here was sourcing men for mercenary companies from Scotland. Regardless Dundarg found the man likeable, and set his glass next to the other empty in case Pyotr felt inclined to wave the bottle over them once more.

"Aye, he's one o' the premier lawmen in the coontry." Douglas explained, not certain if he was the premier lawyer; the practice of law seemed to be convoluted in it's structure and even mystical in it's traditions. He suspected that was deliberate. "He's verra approachable. Verra keen on huntin' tae." In case Pyotr needed a suitable topic to discuss with the man. "I kin provide an' intraeduction, thou' I dinnae doobt he wuid be most pleased tae speak wi' Moscow's ambassador."* Or anyone who would listen to Charles Blounts various stories. Douglas held the man in high esteem for, despite his obvious English properness and high rank at court he'd always been very civil to him, and the two men bonded over horses and firearms. 

So the Ambassador had spoken with Basildon and Kingston, but not yet with Doolittle. "Sir Cedric doesnae hae ony int'rests in Scotland, yet." Douglas said clearly. "I'm in negotiations tae set some up richt noo. I hae a meetin' wi' a representative frae his company o'er lunch todae." He explained, deciding not to mention for the moment that it was with Ellen, not knowing how the Muscovites felt about women in business. "Sir Cedric I ken ainly in passin' but his business partner Viscoont Melville is my brothair frae th'Regiment du Dumbarton." He said, hoping that it was clear that, whilst he and Melville were not brothers in blood, they were as close. "I weel speak wi' Melville efter my meetin' o'er lunch, which weel likely gie weel if I kin tell thaim I hae a buyer fer Scottish guids."** If Moscow was interested, he could set up the entire route and the goods, he just needed the ship. 

"Scotland haes salt, salt mutton, salt beef, coo hides." But alas not wool due to the trade restrictions. "Smoked fish - Troot, Salmon, Mackerel - freshwater pearls an' pearl shell." He added, working his way through the various things produced not just by himself but by those around him. He'd sent Pyotr a large pin made from silver and carved pearl shell. "Seal oil, seal pup fur, uisge, soap, cheese, linen and broadcloth." Those were the major industries off the top of his head, particularly in the Aberdeen area. If things went well he could search further afield for rarer items that might be of interest. Of course, which of those would be of interest to Moscow, only Pyotr could tell him. "We kin use grain," Scotland had seen harsh years and had to import grain before, given their limited arable land, "furs, wax." Those were the Russian exports that he knew Scotland could use, but it was a big place. "A few luxuries like silk an' amber. Vodka." He added with a grin. Scotland had it's nobility too. "Whit else kin Moscow offer?"*** He wondered. The east was shrouded in shadow in Douglas's mind; he needed to find out more.

Subtitles
* "Yes, he's one of the premier lawmen in the country. He's very approachable. Very keen on hunting too. I can provide an introduction, though I don't doubt he would be most pleased to speak with Moscow's Ambassador."
** "Sir Cedric doesn't have any interests in Scotland, yet. I'm in negotiations to set some up right now. I have a meeting with a representative from his company over lunch today. Sir Cedric I know only in passing but his business partner Viscount Melville is my brother from the Regiment du Dumbarton. I will speak with Melville after my meeting over lunch, which will likely go well if I can tell them I have a buyer for Scottish goods."
*** "Scotland has salt, salt mutton, salt beef, cow hides. Smoked fish - Trout, Salmon, Mackerel - freshwater pearls and pearl shell. Seal oil, seal pup fur, whiskey, soap, cheese, linen and broadcloth. We can use grain, furs, wax. A few luxuries like silk and amber. Vodka. What else can Moscow offer?"

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

The Ambassador made a mental note to write to Lord Mountjoy. There were certain things that he needed to keep close to the chest. Sir Cedric, on the other hand...

"If you could arrange a meeting with Sir Cedric I would be most thankful..." there was no change in the tone of his voice, but the Russian knew how things worked. "It could be during court season, or after court is dismissed or even next season, but I would like to have a chat with him". There was a specific request by the Stroganovs, and the Northern Secretary had suggested Sir Cedric as the person who could help. "When you meet with his representative, please make the request in my name. Since Lord Sunderland mentioned Sir Cedric specifically, I'd much prefer to speak with him, and not with his partner". From the tone of Pyotr's voice, it was not a mere preference, even though it was worded very politely.

Most Scottish products mentioned did not strike the Ambassador as interesting. Salt the Stroganovs had a state-sanctioned monopoly in. Salted meats and smoked fishes, if they were to be of interest, would only be bought in very small quantities. Fresh water pearls were of no interest, as blue, grey, and black pearls from the Japans were sourced from the Far East, and they were far more beautiful. Furs were abundant in Russia and of higher quality. Uisge, soap, and broadcloth could be promising, though. There were also certain English products that hopefully Sir Cedric could source too. As for what Moscow could provide...

"Grain we can provide in abundance, but the risk of transport is high. Between rats eating it during the trip, and the possibility of it being ruined with moisture, I am unsure if it would be worth it. Wax, amber, and vodka I think would be no problem, though". They would not get ruined by the conditions of sea transport. "Mast timber we could provide too..." there was plenty of that in Siberia. "As for silks, yes, there are certain silks we can source". The specifics of those in particular would only be discussed with Sir Cedric or his representative, though. Besides, details were to be handled by others. The Ambassador dealt in generalities, not specifics. "Factors would have to be consulted as to what else is available", he said finally.

There were items, like high-quality steel weapons and firearms, that the Stroganovs could source, but that the Northern Secretary had emphatically stated should not be sold to Scots. Scottish soldiers could be exported without problem, but well-armed Highlanders inside Scotland could become troublesome for the Crown. Pyotr understood this and had agreed not to step beyond the boundaries he had been given.

[Douglas FitzJames]

Douglas nodded easily when Pyotr asked if he could arrange a meeting for him with Sir Cedric. "Certainly. I weel mak that request fer ye at lunch." He promised. "I believe Sir Cedric is at Windsor, sae if possible I weel arrange a meetin' afore coort closes."* If not, well, it didn't sound as though the Ambassador was getting on a ship for Moscow tomorrow. He did seem particularly interested in meeting Sir Cedric and Douglas wondered why Sunderland had pointed the Ambassador to him particularly. No doubt there was a reason, he might even find out in time, but for now he could hopefully do Pyotr another small favour. The man seemed quite prepared not to pre-judge Douglas and that earned him esteem in the Scotsman's eyes in itself. 

"Scotland was importin' grain frae the Baltic a century agie, includin' the Rus states." Douglas pointed out, aware of his own country's history. Scotland didn't have as much arable land as her southern neighbours, and it only took a couple of bad years for stores to be exhausted and famine to spread. "I'm sure that shippin' haes improved sin thain. But regardless, e'en spoiled grain kin be fed tae the livestock, which we kin thain eat." Having extra stores of grain also allowed for profit when demand was high. Scotland had timber but little of it was suitable for masts; the winds tended to warp the taller trees. "Aye, acoorse." Douglas replied amiably when Pyotr said that factors would have to be consulted. Right now they were talking in principles, not specifics. Was there anything else that Scotland could offer. "Scotland haes coal as weel, frae the Clyde and Lothian."** Not the Aberdeen area, but he could buy it in. But Moscow was open to trade and that was positive. 

The tall Highlander picked up his glass of vodka and sat back with a smile. "Thank ye fer th'opportunity t'hae this discussion. I think we hae a guid un'erstanin' o' hou Scotland an' Moscow kin help each othair." He said, content with what had been discussed. "Here's tae Moscow, an' tae ye. Slàinte Mhath."*** He said, raising his glass and downing the drink. 

"Hou are ye findin' yer stay in England?"+ He asked the man, interested in what a visitor from the east might think of the island nation. 

Subtitles
* "Certainly. I will make that request for you at lunch. I believe Sir Cedric is at Windsor, so if possible I will arrange a meeting before court closes."
** "Scotland was importing grain from the Baltic a century ago, including the Rus states. I'm sure that shipping has improved since then. But regardless, even spoiled grain can be fed to the livestock, which we can then eat. Yes, of course. Scotland has coal as well, from the Clyde and Lothian."
*** "Thank you for the opportunity to have this discussion. I think we have a good understanding of how Scotland and Moscow can help each other. Here's to Moscow, and to you. Good health!"
+ "How are you finding your stay in England?"

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

At Douglas' agreeing to request a meeting with Sir Cedric, the Ambassador nodded and smiled. The Lady Alyth and Lord Sunderland were right. Baron Dundarg is proving to be the right man to help me. Perhaps keeping him nearby is the right thing to do. His military duties might not make it easy, though, but he seems eager to prove himself useful.

Douglas returned to the topic of grain. Problem with grain was not it going bad or sprouting. Problem was that if it got wet, it grew bigger, which could burst the hull of a ship. Now if the Stroganovs did not have to provide the ships, the risk would not be theirs, and they would gladly sell the grain, the Ambassador thought. "If Scotland were to provide the ships, I think Moscow can be convinced to provide the grain", Pyotr said after a moment of silence. "Again, details would have to be arranged by others". Coal Russia had plenty of. Peasants preferred to make their own charcoal to buying mined coal, though, so it was not a large industry, but their mines promised huge yields.

The tall Scot seemed to be as independentist, perhaps even more so, as the Scottish officers the Ambassador had met before. Douglas did not think of Scotland as a junior partner of England as the English did, but as an independent entity. Perhaps this can be to my advantage, hmm... Pyotr's mind was already racing. He would have to speak with Lord Mountjoy first, though, to see what the legal implications of his slowly-forming thoughts were. Wherever chips may fall, this Captain FitzJames may be key...

The Ambassador responded with an almost passable "Slàinte Mhath" before downing his own and refilling both glasses. "It is good when soldiers like us can sit and talk about matters of peace", he said. "We do not always have the luxury to do so. As for England, there is little I have been able to see so far. London is a beautiful city..." a gem compared to Moscow, but I cannot tell you that. "And Windsor is a quaint little town full of surprises. Court I have not seen enough to form an opinion of yet..." and would only voice my opinion if it was positive. "The English, and the Scots, that I have met so far have been very pleasant, though".

It seemed that everything the Russian had wanted to accomplish with the meeting, even a bit more, had been accomplished. He needed to head back to the Embassy, because he had promised his daughter they would attend the masque, and his costume needed to be tailored to her satisfaction. Women! And daughters are even worse than wives! the Russian thought as he smiled.

"Is there anything else you need to ask? Or may we call this meeting ended?"

[Douglas FitzJames]

Douglas was not a man of the sea by any stretch of the imagination. Oh he would ride on a boat if necessary, but he was a man of the Highlands, of deep dells and precipitous crags. He could scale a mountain and hide himself away in the network of valleys, but he couldn't sail for shit. Perhaps if he could he would have understood the issue with the grain. All he knew was that it had been done before and so surely could be done again. "I'm sure the ships cuid be organised."* He replied easily, confident of his ability to talk Ellen and Horizon Ventures into the, well, venture. The rest, as Pyotr said, were details to be left to others. 

The Baron was very much an independentist, and very patriotic of his homeland, sneering at those nobility who emulated English ways and seemed keen to abandon their heritage. Unfortunately it seemed to be the way the system worked down here, one of the reasons he preferred being in Scotland most of the time. But there were advantages to coming to court, such as the opportunity to drink vodka with the Moscow Ambassador, a fellow he found he quite liked. "It is guid whin men o' war kin talk o' peace." He agreed. War was a necessity at times, but it had to be for a purpose, and there had to be peace for growth. Only madmen lived for war. "I am glad ye hae haed a pleasant time thus far." Douglas wasn't certain he'd call London beautiful, but Pyotr was probably being polite. Wait until you see Dun Eidin. "Shuid ye wish tae tour Scotland, I an' mine wuid be most pleased tae host ye."** He assured the man. What better way to demonstrate what the place had to offer?

His enquiry had mostly been polite, in case the Ambassador had had further business with him, but in that blunt way that Douglas enjoyed Pyotr indicated that he was done. "Nae Yer Excellency, I ken whit I need. I weel contact ye whin I hae somethin' fer ye." Hopefully a meeting time with Sir Cedric to start with. "Lets caw this meetin' guid an' dane. Thank ye fer th'opportunity." He said, rising respectfully to his feet. "Enjoy th'uisge."*** He added.

(OOC: Done?)

Subtitles
* "I'm sure the ships could be organised."
** "It is good when men of war can talk of peace. I am glad you have had a pleasant time thus far. Should you wish to tour Scotland, I and mine would be most pleased to host you."
*** "No Your Excellency, I know what I need. I will contact you when I have something for you. Lets call this meeting good and done. Thank you for the opportunity. Enjoy the whiskey."

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

The Russian Ambassador got up. "Send word to the Embassy, either here or in London, when you consider it important. As for visiting Scotland, perhaps in the future yes..." there was so much he needed to do, and so little time to get it done. Pyotr extended his right hand to shake Douglas' before bowing slightly and taking his leave. The bottle of whisky he took, but he left the vodka on the table.

OOC: Fin, and thank you!