The next morning, Alexander woke up early. The first rays of sunlight softly entered the room, filtering through the narrow windows covered with intricately carved wooden shutters. The light lazily spread across the roughly hewn walls, adding a sense of calm to the quiet morning. The air was fresh, but Alexander's mind was already teeming with thoughts about the upcoming day.
His body ached slightly from the previous day, but the pain was tolerable. Alexander felt that his recovery was progressing as planned - he would be fully ready by the coronation. The itch he had forgotten about was also gone, until the herbalist Svyatomir reminded him of it. The chief healer, Miroslav, always more skeptical, merely shook his head, acknowledging Svyatomir's correctness. The itch had indeed been caused by Alexander's prolonged absence from training.
Breakfast was brief and solitary. Alexander had it in his chambers. Flipping through the pages of his book, he pondered how the customs of the princes in this time differed greatly from those he was used to. Here, a ruler seemed expected to combine meals with discussions of affairs, turning dining into a kind of meeting.
Alexander had no objections to such an approach, but with the coronation approaching, he realized this was not the time for such gatherings. His entourage was already overwhelmed with preparations, and additional ceremonies would only distract them from more pressing matters.
Quickly finishing his breakfast, Alexander set the book aside and rose. Today, he planned to see Kyiv with his own eyes - its streets, markets, and gathering places. He needed to understand what issues troubled his subjects and what shortcomings hindered trade from flourishing.
He also intended to meet with the merchant guild. Trade was the foundation of the city's economy, and Alexander understood that without reform, Kyiv would not solidify its position as the center of Kyivan Rus' and a key trading hub.
Helping him with this could undoubtedly be Dobrynya, the Ognyshchanyn, a man who had managed the princely estates for many years and earned a reputation as a reliable administrator. His experience and ability to navigate complex situations were invaluable. Despite his modern knowledge, Alexander understood that he needed someone who knew Kyiv and its problems from within. Dobrynya, who had served his father, was just such a person.
Of course, the idea of involving Oleg came to mind, but he was fully immersed in organizing the upcoming coronation. It required constant oversight, negotiations with the clergy and boyars, and the preparation of ceremonies. Dobrynya, despite his own busyness, could spare the time to accompany the prince.
Glancing at his wardrobe, Alexander frowned. Among the fine embroidered fabrics and furs, there was nothing suitable for such an outing. Everything he saw spoke of his high status and belonging to the ruling elite.
- I need to find something simple to blend in - Alexander thought. - Ordinary clothes worn in the city should be with one of my guardsmen. That would be quicker than ordering new ones
He approached the door and, slightly opening it, called out to his guards:
- Mstislav, Mirnomir, one of you, come in
The door opened slowly, and Mstislav entered - a tall, sturdy warrior, always composed and attentive. Mirnomir remained outside, continuing to watch the corridor.
- My prince, how can I serve you? - Mstislav asked, bowing his head respectfully.
Alexander gave him an appraising look.
- I need ordinary clothes, the kind worn in the city, to avoid standing out - Alexander said calmly, stating his request.
Mstislav frowned, his gaze lingering on the prince's face. He instantly grasped the subtext of Alexander's words. The request for simple clothing and the mention of blending in pointed to something more significant than a mere change of attire. As an experienced and perceptive man, he quickly understood that there was more to this than met the eye.
- My prince, if you intend to go into the city, this is a bad idea. There may be spies in the city. We cannot allow you to take such a risk before the upcoming coronation - Mstislav said, shaking his head with evident concern. His voice was firm, as if trying to dissuade the prince from a dangerous step.
- Indeed, Head Stanislav would never approve of this, nor would the other advisors. If anything happens to you, all of Kyivan Rus' will fall into chaos, - Mirnomir added from his post at the door. He had overheard the conversation through the slightly open door. His voice was stern, but it carried genuine care.
Alexander listened to them calmly, but his gaze remained as firm as stone.
- That is why we will act covertly, - he said confidently. - We will dress like ordinary townsfolk, and no one will recognize us. Our enemies won't even suspect that I would dare leave the safety of the walls at such a time
Mstislav held Alexander's gaze, weighing his words. There was sense in what Alexander said. Enemies would certainly not expect the young prince, who had just survived an assassination attempt, to leave the protected walls of Detinets to inspect the city. But the risk was still great, and Mstislav understood this perfectly.
- Your Highness, if something happens to you, the consequences will be immense... - Mstislav began, but Alexander raised his hand sharply yet calmly, silencing him.
- We will not discuss this further. The two of you, I, and Dobrynya will go into the city today
Mstislav and Mirnomir exchanged glances. They knew that arguing with the prince was pointless. His gaze said more than words - Alexander had already made his decision, and he would not back down. Their duty was to protect him and support him in any endeavor.
- As you command, my prince, - Mstislav finally said, bowing his head slightly.
- Then, my prince, I will fetch appropriate clothing for everyone, - Mirnomir said, bowing. Not only did he intend to find the clothing, but he also planned to inform Head Stanislav about this risky venture. If anyone could dissuade the prince, it was him.
- Very well, - Alexander replied calmly. - In the meantime, Mstislav and I will go to Dobrynya. We will wait for you there
Mirnomir bowed and left, heading for the clothes and the guards who were to take positions near the prince's chambers during their absence. Despite the secrecy of the upcoming outing, precautions remained mandatory.
They could not allow their absence to raise suspicions or leave Detinets vulnerable. Alexander nodded to Mstislav, signaling him to move, and the two of them headed to Dobrynya.
The ognyshchanyn's house stood in the very heart of Detinets. A sturdy wooden terem with carved window frames and wide windows looked both solid and devoid of excessive luxury. Servants bustled near the gates, and a groom stood on the porch, adjusting the harness of two horses. Everything around exuded organization and strictness - Dobrynya, as always, ensured order.
- The prince has arrived! - came a cry, and moments later, Dobrynya himself appeared at the threshold. He wore a simple yet neat woolen kaftan, his broad shoulders betraying a man accustomed to hard work. A fur hat adorned his head, and his gaze remained sharp and focused.
- My prince, welcome, - Dobrynya said, bowing low, then gestured Alexander inside. His voice was even, but a faint note of caution could be detected behind his words.
Alexander gave a slight nod and stepped over the threshold. Inside the spacious main room, the air smelled of fresh wood and hearth smoke. The interior spoke of practicality: furs, weapons, and a few scrolls adorned the walls, while a large chest reinforced with iron bands stood tightly closed in the corner. At the center of the room, a massive wooden table bore goblets of mead, bowls of salted meat, and freshly baked bread.
- You didn't announce your visit, my prince, - Dobrynya noted, motioning to an ornate chair near the hearth. His voice was soft, but there was a veiled question in his tone. - I trust all is well?
- All is well, Dobrynya, - Alexander replied, sitting in the chair. His gaze lingered momentarily on the room's details. Everything spoke of the owner's orderliness, experience, and sense of duty. - But I have a matter where I'll need your help
Dobrynya inclined his head slightly, listening intently. He wasn't one for idle words, and the prince's unexpected visit promised something significant.
- Speak, my prince, - he said calmly. - If it is within my power, I will do whatever is needed
Alexander leaned closer to the table, lowering his voice as if not even the walls should hear his intentions.
- Dobrynya, I have decided to go into the city. Discreetly. Not as a prince, but as an ordinary man, - he began, watching for Dobrynya's reaction. - I need to see how Kyiv lives. The streets, the markets, the trade rows. To understand what oppresses the people, what issues plague commerce, and what can be resolved
Dobrynya's gaze lingered on Alexander. His face didn't flinch, but his eyes betrayed concern. He understood the risks inherent in such words.
- The city is full of strangers right now, my prince. There are those who may seek your life, - Dobrynya warned, his voice calm yet tinged with care. - Going without protection is a risk
- That is why we will act discreetly. We'll take only Mstislav and Mirnomir to avoid drawing attention, - Alexander replied curtly. - I cannot wait until after the coronation. The city is alive now, and this is our chance to see what needs changing
Dobrynya leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. He was silent, but his gaze turned thoughtful. He knew Mstislav and Mirnomir well - two masters of the sword, battle-tested, among the best senior guards under Stanislav's command. There should be no problems with them, even if threats arose. These men not only knew how to fight but also how to quickly assess situations and act accordingly.
His expression remained serious, but Alexander knew the ognyshchanyn was already considering his words.
- Very well, - Dobrynya finally said, exhaling slightly. - If you've made up your mind, then I will go with you. I cannot let you take this risk alone without witnessing how you handle it. But we must exercise extreme caution
Alexander smiled faintly. He knew that despite his doubts, Dobrynya would agree. Though he didn't know him well, Alexander suspected that Dobrynya understood the importance of actions that strengthened power and order.
- Caution will be our top priority, - Alexander assured him. - I will need your opinion. I don't want to merely note the problems but discuss them with you immediately to find the best solutions
Alexander understood that his father, as a ruler, had focused more on foreign policy, military conflicts, and consolidating centralized power. Such priorities often relegated pressing urban issues to the background. Dobrynya, as a loyal servant, had followed these priorities, carrying out orders rather than initiating reforms.
Most of the treasury was spent on maintaining the guard, fortifying borders, and paying mercenaries. Even when ideas for urban improvements arose, boyars and influential merchants often blocked them, unwilling to relinquish their control over trade and taxes. Alexander knew that his father, like many princes of the time, had to balance strengthening his power with maintaining the boyar clans' support.
But now, with the border-strengthening plan in place, Alexander began to think about improving Kyiv. He understood that he would face resistance from influential merchants and boyars, but he had a plan.
Instead of direct confrontation, he intended to involve them in his reforms, using privileges and incentives as tools. Merchants and boyars needed to believe the changes were beneficial and, in the end, fund many of the proposed improvements themselves. Alexander saw this not only as a way to avoid open conflict but also as an opportunity to strengthen his power and revenues.
Dobrynya pondered, his gaze sharp. He studied Alexander closely, as if weighing his words and decisions. Over the many years of his service, he had grown accustomed to remaining in the shadows, carrying out the orders of the grand prince.
When Yaroslav the Wise ruled, Dobrynya knew that raising issues of urban life was pointless. Yaroslav was focused on foreign policy and consolidating power. His decisions were deliberate but aimed more at maintaining order and balance across the entirety of Kyivan Rus' than at local reforms.
At that time, Dobrynya believed that such ideas might be perceived as unnecessary innovation, distracting the prince from more serious matters. Moreover, under Yaroslav, the boyars and merchants wielded too much influence to allow changes that would disrupt their established advantages.
Now, however, with the young prince Alexander, everything had changed. In his words, Dobrynya heard a resolve not only to strengthen borders and promote Christian mercy but also to bring change to Kyiv itself. Dobrynya saw this not just as an opportunity but as a duty. The young prince, unburdened by old goals and willing to listen to new ideas, seemed capable of overcoming the resistance of the boyars and trade guilds.
- Some issues have been overdue, my prince, - he said, inclining his head slightly. - The markets are chaotic. Merchants complain about extortion, trading spots are allocated by force, and the treasury receives less than it should. But the people are accustomed to this order. If we change it too abruptly, they may resist. Reforms must be thoughtful to bring benefits without inciting discontent
- Then we'll start with that, - Alexander said firmly. - We'll see everything with our own eyes. I want to hear what the merchants have to say, see their problems, and understand what can be done for them. We'll return with a plan and begin transforming Kyiv
Dobrynya nodded, his face once again calm, though his eyes showed readiness for action.
- Then I need to prepare. I'll take records and scrolls - useful for documenting what we hear. I'll also bring my assistant. If we act, it must be wisely. And if simple clothing is needed, I'll order it brought now
- No need, Mirnomir has already gone for it. He'll be here soon, - Alexander replied confidently.
Dobrynya nodded without turning his head and briefly glanced at his assistant standing by the door.
- Ladislav, bring the scrolls and a quill. We need to be ready to work, - Dobrynya said calmly but firmly, as always, precisely assigning tasks.
The young man, without waiting for a second command, bowed his head respectfully and quickly left the room. His movements were precise, without unnecessary fuss. Alexander watched him briefly but could not help noticing the confidence in each step. This youth seemed to know exactly how to behave in such situations and could adapt to his master's rhythm.
A few minutes later, Ladislav returned, carrying scrolls tightly bound with a cord and a case for the quill. He stopped at the threshold, bowed his head again to show respect to those present, and approached Dobrynya. His actions were deliberate: he carefully unrolled the scrolls and placed them on the nearest table, ensuring everything lay evenly and was convenient for use.
Dobrynya gave his assistant a brief, slightly appraising glance and silently took the scrolls. Ladislav stepped back but did not retreat too far, as if anticipating further instructions. This was more than mere obedience - the young man demonstrated an ability to foresee what might be needed next.
Alexander observed the scene closely. The details caught his eye: how Ladislav briefly held his gaze on Dobrynya, seemingly waiting for confirmation that everything had been done correctly; how he stood upright, composed, but ready to act. This was not submission in the usual sense but rather a conscious understanding of his role and task.
- Your assistant has a sharp mind, - Alexander said quietly, addressing Dobrynya but not taking his eyes off Ladislav.
The ognyshchanyn inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the prince's remark, but said nothing. Only a fleeting glance at the young man suggested he shared the opinion.
Ladislav, as if sensing the discussion, briefly raised his eyes but quickly bowed his head again. He knew his place, but there was a subtle pride in his posture - not arrogance, but confidence that his work was noticed and appreciated.
When everyone was ready, Dobrynya stood up first. Alexander was the first to step outside, followed by the ognyshchanyn. Ladislav brought up the rear, carrying the scrolls and quill as if they were an extension of himself.
At the exit, Mstislav was already waiting nearby. His hands were relaxed, but his gaze constantly scanned the surroundings, assessing the situation.
Beside him stood Mirnomir, holding a bundle of clothing, and Stanislav, the head of the guards. Stanislav's face was tense, and his narrowed eyes scrutinized everyone gathered. He was clearly unhappy with what was happening but, as a direct and demanding man, awaited an explanation.
- Your Highness, what is the meaning of this gathering? - he asked sharply, shifting his gaze from Alexander to Dobrynya and lingering on Ladislav. His tone carried a mix of wariness and expectation.
Alexander sighed, understanding he would have to explain his intentions for the third time. He saw Stanislav frown, arms crossed over his chest, and decided not to waste time.
- Stanislav, - Alexander began calmly, his voice firm but not harsh. - I am going into the city discreetly. We will observe it, assess the condition of the streets, examine pressing issues, speak with merchants, and discuss what needs attention first
Stanislav straightened, his eyes narrowing as he looked intently at Alexander, as if trying to read something more into his words. His stance remained firm, almost defiant, but he kept silent, letting the prince finish speaking. However, the tension in the air was palpable even without words.
- This is too dangerous, - Stanislav said sharply, his voice firm. - The city is unsafe. Your brothers died because of a conspiracy. I cannot allow you to share their fate
Alexander met his gaze. His voice was calm but resolute:
- I understand your concerns, Stanislav. But how can I understand my people if I don't go? I don't want to be a prince who rules by the words of boyars and written reports. If you wish, you may join us, - he replied confidently but without pressure.
Stanislav exhaled heavily, realizing that convincing the prince otherwise was likely impossible. Alexander's determination was undeniable, and Stanislav saw in it not mere stubbornness but a desire to rule with open eyes.
- Very well, - he finally said, restraining his irritation. His voice softened slightly but remained strict. - But we will do this my way. I will send several squads of senior guardsmen. They will follow us discreetly, disguised as city patrolmen and common merchants. And I will go with you to ensure you don't run into trouble
- Agreed, no problem, - Alexander replied calmly, showing no dissatisfaction. He understood that compromise was necessary in this case.
Mirnomir, seeing the decision was made, handed each of them a bundle of clothing. They retreated into Dobrynya's house to change quickly. Each of them exchanged their rich attire for simple garments that would blend in among the townsfolk.
Alexander found himself in a plain kaftan of coarse fabric. Dobrynya looked like a prosperous craftsman, his clothing slightly better but still modest. Ladislav, with tightly rolled scrolls and a quill case, appeared as a scribe or scholar, perfectly fitting the intended disguise.
Every detail was carefully thought out to ensure that no passerby would suspect they were looking at the prince and his companions. Their goal was not just to see the city but to do so inconspicuously, gaining an honest perspective on what was happening.
When everyone was ready, they stepped outside, and Alexander took one last look at his small group. His gaze lingered on Stanislav, who, despite his position as head of the guard, was dressed in an unremarkable kaftan more fitting for a craftsman than a warrior.
Mstislav and Mirnomir wore simple kaftans - grey for Mstislav and dark brown for Mirnomir. There were no visible weapons at their belts, only small knives hidden beneath the fabric. Both looked like ordinary townsfolk, with Mstislav carrying a small pouch and Mirnomir a satchel slung over his shoulder.
- Let's go, - Alexander said briefly, and they began their walk toward the gates of Detinets.
As they approached the staircase leading to the main gates, Alexander paused at the upper platform. His gaze swept over the area, where everything exuded order. Narrow but even streets were paved with compacted clay, free of litter or signs of yesterday's rain.
Storage sheds lined the walls of the terem, covered with tarps, while guards in clean kaftans stood watch at the gates. Even the air here felt different - scented with the aroma of freshly baked bread and smoke from hearths.
Detinets was the heart of Kyiv, its pride. Everything here spoke of the grandeur of princely power: the sturdy walls, the church with its golden dome where townsfolk brought their prayers, and the sounds from the smithy where weapons for the guard were being forged. Alexander felt himself part of this order, its center. This was his domain, his responsibility, his home.
As soon as Alexander walked through the gates, the world changed. The streets beyond Detinets seemed entirely different - chaotic, full of life and motion. The clay road, softened by recent rain, was deeply rutted with cart tracks and hoofprints. Small piles of trash, left by townsfolk accustomed to such conditions, lined the edges.
Alexander unconsciously slowed his pace, his gaze sweeping over the surroundings.
- Detinets is like paradise, - he thought to himself. - But just step through these gates, and you see an entirely different world. Broken roads, crowded streets, chaos… It's as if they've forgotten that the capital should represent the principality
The air here was heavy and saturated, a mixture of smoke, fresh bread, horse sweat, and damp earth filling his lungs. The area was alive with sounds: the loud voices of merchants calling out to customers, the laughter of children playing tag, and the creak of carts rolling slowly down the street.
Mstislav slowed his pace beside the prince, his expression wary, as though expecting trouble around every corner. His hand instinctively moved toward the hilt of his sword.
- Best to keep weapons ready here, my prince, - he muttered quietly, almost under his breath, so only Alexander could hear. Then he glanced around, his eyes closely following the movement of the crowd. - In places like this, thieves are like rats. They'll empty your pockets before you even blink
Alexander was visibly surprised but tried to mask it with a calm demeanor.
- Do you think they'd dare to rob townsfolk so close to Detinets?
Mstislav smirked faintly, his gaze becoming even sharper.
- They don't care who you are as long as you look like an ordinary man. To them, you're just another coin pouch on a belt
Dobrynya, walking slightly ahead, frowned as he carefully observed the rain-softened road. His gaze lingered on a fishmonger loudly arguing with a customer, gesturing wildly as if it would resolve the dispute faster.
- Dirt and chaos, - he remarked calmly, shaking his head. - Even merchants accustomed to hardships can't endure this. And what about visitors? Trade cannot thrive when everything is so… neglected
Alexander listened attentively, his eyes scanning the bustling streets. Wooden stalls along the road overflowed with vegetables, fabrics, and clay pottery. Craftsmen sat directly on the ground, repairing baskets or laying out tools for sale.
He slowed his pace, watching a blacksmith whose masterful hands were repairing a cracked horseshoe. His movements were confident, but a queue of irritated drivers was already forming around him.
Dobrynya leaned slightly closer to the prince, ready to offer his thoughts.
- With craftsmen like these, much more could be done. But they need to see that power isn't just about collecting taxes but also giving something in return. Clean the streets, organize the markets, show them that you care. Then there will be fewer complaints and more revenue for the treasury
Alexander, as a young and energetic ruler, had already shown himself to be a man of action and change. Dobrynya, seeing this, wanted to seize the moment to finally propose what he had long considered necessary. He was confident that Alexander could overcome the resistance of the boyars and bring about real change.
Alexander said nothing, his thoughts occupied elsewhere. His gaze lingered on a street corner. A young woman with a basket over her shoulder was bargaining with a fishmonger, while nearby, a boy with dirty hands reached for an apple only to receive a quick slap on the hand from the merchant. The seller's mocking words made the boy step back in embarrassment.
Amid the hustle and bustle, Alexander noticed a dog rummaging through scraps near a parked cart, pulling out a piece of old bread crust. Nearby, a broken basket filled with rotten apples lay abandoned in haste. The scene was far from ideal, but it was full of life, motion, and energy.
- Yes, this is also Kyiv, - he thought. - But it won't stay this way for long. I must change something
***
I would appreciate your feedback. This way I can see that I am doing everything right.