Chapter 1: A meeting of nobility
It was a cold, rainy day in Moscow. Czar Peter looked at his collection of ministers. He smiled slightly and shook his head once again.
"How many men do we have?"
"Barely 10,000 men open for service. Only 3,000 of them are equipped with firearms."
"3,000?!"
"Indeed..."
The Czar looked at the map and frowned.
"Relocate the men on the Swedish border."
"Your holiness?"
"We will need the muskets."
"And the Ottomans?"
The Czar once again looked at the map.
"We will deal with them after their dog, the Crimeans, are gone."
Prince Nickolas Stavsky pointed at the Crimean lands.
"If you raise a few regiments of line infantry from Moscow we could deal with the Ottomans in Bulgaria."
The Czar sat back and looked at his ministers. Then we will begin soon...ready the men."
The Czar rose to the now chattering nobles and turned to leave. Two Imperial guards immediatly followed him at a reasonable distance. He made his way down the stairs and to the front door of the palace. A group of citizens outside immediatly spotted him.
"Heil Czar!"
Peter nodded and hailed his horse. He made his way to the a small field a few miles outside of Moscow. He sat on the grass. He had dismissed his many guards and aides.
"God, give me the strength to make my country great. Gve me the strength to defend my people and their liberty as Russians. If to do this I must give my life...so be it."
And so for many hours the famous Czar of Russia, the most powerful man East of Austria and North of the Ottoman Empire, contemplated the future. Not just decades but generations away.