Chapter 8

Nicolas reviewed the photographs for the third time since Selene had emailed them.

Pausing on the last one, showing Michael slumped on the ground. Nicolas gave a derisive laugh, 'is this all there is, ' he thought as he rose from his desk and walked out onto the balcony.

For so many years Nicolas had worked to bring order to the world, his vision of an ordered, pure world was the driving factor in his life.

'Too much diversity, too much strife, the world needs to be convinced that there is another path, the one true path, my path, ' Nicolas thought as he gazed at the setting sun.

Being this close to the end, of finally overthrowing the old guard, of becoming the one true leader of his kind filled Nicolas with a raw and powerful feeling of entitlement, simply knowing that his destiny was at hand.

Almost quivering with nervous energy his thoughts drifted back to another sunset one that would see him begin his journey to inherit the power that would put him on the path to achieve his destiny.

The court of Peter I was lively in the summer of 1721, a tentative peace had been struck with the Swedes and Russia was an emerging European power. It was an amazing time in Russia, with the last 40 years seeing a true change from a medieval culture to a modern society.

Nicolas Ivan Partekov could not think of anywhere he would rather be than in the royal palace.

Working in the kitchens was not a very prestigious position, however this mattered little to Nicolas.

Born to peasants he had grown up with an insatiable drive to be someone, someone a damn site better than a beggar's son.

The squalid hovel Nicolas shared with his parents was cold; with no money for wood or good blankets, Nicolas was always cold.

The nights seemed to last forever to Nicolas, during the day he could at least go out, warm himself in a patch of sun in the city square and watch the world go by.

But here in the dark, that deep dark in the middle of the night that takes on a life of its own, pulling forth all manner of monsters and demons fully formed from its inky depths, Nicolas felt alone, and knew that the time had come to escape this dismal existence.

Yesterday had been his tenth birthday, there was no party, actually no mention of the day was made by either his mother or father. This had been the last straw, pushing him to leave, no matter what the consequences.

Taking the families only loaf of bread he left his parents hovel that night he set out to find his own path.

Being only ten years old his options were limited by his experience. Living in the city he had seen the great coaches and columns of soldiers as they came and went from the palace, and to the palace is where young Nicolas traveled to start his new life.

Standing by the servant's gate for days he was finally found by one of the cook's assistants and brought inside.

Finding a place was never hard for Nicolas, being highly intelligent and always seeming to be in the right place at the right time he soon found a permanent place in the palace kitchens.

First working the trash, he cleared the scraps that came back from the great banquets and late night meals; staying out of the way, watching how the palace worked, getting into the flow of the place.

And his life moved on, days turned into months, months turned into years and now nine years since walking through the servants gate he was getting yet another promotion.

"Nicolas," Mikhail called, "come over here."

Nicolas smiled and walked over, sitting down with Mikhail at the rough worktable in the center of the kitchen.

Nicolas liked Mikhail, of the three kitchen bosses, he was his favorite.

Nadia, the night boss was a real bitch, taking out her own frustrations at being 'wasted' fixing late night snacks for the aristocracy, she took pleasure in running the boys and girls ragged during her shift.

Paullina the morning boss was better, very strict, having everything running her way was the standard for her, as long as you did your job and stayed out of her way, Paullina would leave you alone.

Mikhail was the lead boss, on for the evening meals, in charge of the banquets; menu's and purchasing he met everyone with a smile, expected the best from you and made sure you were able to give your best.

"Jonathan has been taken to the dungeon, he was caught with three silver spoons under his mattress," Mikhail said, breaking a piece of bread in two, handing a half to Nicolas.

Nicolas' expression was appropriately shocked; however the smile he kept hidden belied his true knowledge and involvement with the spoons.

Jonathan was a nice person, everyone who met him would say so, and nice, as far as Nicolas was concerned, was a liability for those ahead of him.

Living at court for so long, Nicolas had had years to memorize the layout of the place, where to hide, how to get into this room or that. It had been nothing for him to slip into the storeroom and secret out the spoons one evening while on the night shift.

Living in the same barracks as Jonathon had only made the spoons' appearance under Jonathon's mattress that much easier. A careful word to the right maid, who could be counted on never to keep a secret, and Jonathon's downfall was assured.

Taking a bite of the bread Mikhail continued, "I'll need to fill his position as minor steward, now Nadia thinks that Colette should get the job."

'Not surprising, ' Nicolas thought, as Colette is more times than not to be found with her pretty little head between Nadia's thick hairy thighs most evenings in the pantry.

"However, after talking with Paullina she and I both feel that you would be a better choice for the job." Mikhail said.

"I appreciate the opportunity Mikhail, I won't let you down," Nicolas responded, taking a bite of his own bread contemplating how this new position would give him even better access and bring him one step closer to well ... Mikhail's job.

"I know you won't Nicolas, now, here are the minor stewards keys, giving you access to all of the storerooms and ante rooms upstairs in the residence, there is a lot that goes into this job so you'll have to stay on your toes and learn quickly, you'll be at my side for the next week then its your ass for any screw ups."

Mikhail was pleased with Nicolas' acceptance; he felt that if the lad kept his nose clean he might just get his job when he retired.

The next few months moved quickly, being the minor steward introduced Nicolas to a side of court life he had not been exposed to before.

In the past, most of his duties centered around the kitchen and the main dining hall of the palace. Now he ranged around the entire palace, which expanded his perspective and his goals further than ever.

While getting ready for the Tsar's coronation as Emperor of Russia many guests from all over Europe were coming to the palace for the festivities.

"You there, boy, come here," the strong heavily accented female voice called out from behind Nicolas. Turning he was faced with the most imposing trio he had ever encountered.

The most striking thing was their hair, Nicolas had heard stories of the Germanic people and their blond hair, the stories did not do the actual facts justice.

Standing before him were two blond goddesses, their long hair cascading down their backs and over their shoulders; it reminded Nicolas of the waterfall he had once seen while traveling in the country with the royal court.

Walking over to the trio, Nicolas came to a stop in front of the man standing between the two Nordic goddesses.

Nicolas' 6ft 2in height seemed dwarfed by the man who stood at least 4 inches taller than he.

Broad chested with chiseled features, Nicolas had never seen nor heard of his like. As he continued to regard the man their eyes locked and Nicolas' world stopped.

Blue as he imagined the great seas must be, a blue so deep and so brilliant that it grabbed his soul and wouldn't let go. Their eyes locked for what seemed to be an eternity, when in fact the glance only lasted seconds, seconds that laid Nicolas' soul open to the man who owned those eyes.

"Name?" The man asked as their eyes parted and Nicolas stood quivering from the sheer shock of the mans force of will.

"Nicholas," he stammered, looking at the floor not wanting to fall under the man's gaze again.

Hagen stood looking down at the boy shaking his head 'he has no clue as to who or what he is, ' Hagen thought, he was surprised that after all these long centuries he should come across his heir in a foreign land working as a house boy.

'So much the better, a blank slate with which to work, ' Hagen finished his thought as he regarded the boy once again.

"I am Hagen Adolph Renzhauser, ambassador of the Holy Roman Empire, my attendants are Helga and Ingrid. Our baggage needs to be moved to our rooms quickly boy, do not make us wait," Hans finished.

With a final glance at the boy, Hans and his entourage moved off following the page to their rooms.

Nicolas stood in the middle of the entrance hall, stunned by this new emotion that had not been part of his existence until this moment.

Fear. Blinding, incapacitating fear. The fear flowed through him, paralyzing Nicolas, never had he known fear, never had he been confronted with something or someone that he perceived to be stronger than himself.

Now he understood there were things in the world that, should their attention stay on him to long, could crush him like a bug without a backward glance.

As the fear subsided and Nicolas found his strength, he walked over to the entrance and found the ambassadors' things.

"Ivan, where is the ambassador staying?" Nicolas asked the young page who was greeting all of the arriving dignitaries.

"Ah, Nicolas, good to see you, can you believe the women with the ambassador, gods never have I seen such women," Ivan commented, turning to regard Nicolas.

'Strange, Nicolas does not look well' Ivan thought.

"They are in the east wing, third floor the last set of rooms overlooking the gardens.

Nodding, Nicolas picked up the three large cases and set off for the ambassador's rooms, not looking forward to being in his presence again.

"Your majesty, Ambassador Hans Renzhauser has requested an immediate audience," the Tsar's steward said. He did not like to interrupt his liege with unscheduled appointments, but the ambassador had been very insistent, leaving the steward with little choice but to make the request.

Peter looked up from his desk, regarding his steward.

"Very well, bring him in," Peter said, thinking to himself that it must be of the utmost urgency as his steward never allowed for unscheduled meetings.