Dust

Inky blackness covered me as I moved silently through the grounds of the manor—a perfect night for the job. For the last few days, I had scouted the manor from afar. This would probably be the easiest kill I had ever had. Yesterday was the young lord's birthday, and apparently, by order of the regent, it was a day of celebration. I had no doubt most would be sleeping soundly. The back wall was easy to climb with a hook and rope, and no guards patrolled the grounds. I slipped through a gap between the stone wall and a poorly positioned roof overhang of this falling-down manor.

Working my way through the study, I thought to myself that I might check around on my way out to see if the Regent had anything of value. Opening the door, I strode down the hall without care and went towards the young lord's room. I almost laughed at my luck when I found that they hadn't even bothered to lock the door. Not that a lock would stop me. Locks were to keep honest people from temptation. They mattered little to assassins and thieves. As I opened the door, the hinges gave a high-pitched squeak. I waited to hear if there was any movement in the room, ready to bolt if the maid woke. When nothing stirred, I slipped into the room and moved to the corner where the darkness was complete. It was a simple plan. Snap the neck and exit. Spread a rumor that the baron hired an assassin while he was gone to make it look like he wasn't involved, giving the duke a reason to kill or remove him.

Just as I was about to move forward, a strong wind from the open window pushed against the door. The door barely moved at all, but the accursed hinge gave a small squeal. The boy stirred and woke with a cry. The child began to whimper. And I flattened myself back against the wall. 'Looks like I would be waiting.' Not that I minded. This job was about patience.

The woman woke groggily and sighed. She stood up and scooped up the young boy into her arms. Then she went and sat in a chair in the opposite corner to me. It was only a few minutes later that the boy began to calm down. Just then, a young girl pushed the door all the way open and entered.

"Emily, what are you doing awake?" The older woman chided softly.

As the girl approached to stand in front of the woman, she said, "I fell asleep in the paper room at the desk. Then Aaron cried and probably woke the whole house."

"And it is all you young people's fault. He probably has an upset stomach from all the honeybread you all were giving him yesterday. I even stayed here to help him stay calm rather than go home. Nora does not know how to take care of him properly."

"It was his birthday. He had to have something sweet," Emily said as if that explained everything. "Do you want me to rock him?"

"You just want to sit in the rocking chair."

"Yeah, but at least you could go back to sleep."

"Go get some sleep, girl. This is my responsibility, not yours."

"Please. The chair has to be the best thing that Lord Amos came up with."

"I can't disagree with you there. If I could only get you kids to stop playing with it," the older woman said. I couldn't see her face, but by the tone of her voice, I could tell she was smiling.

"Come on," the girl weddled, "Let me hold him."

"Fine," the woman said while standing up. As she stood, her eyes looked to the corner I was in, and her body stiffened.

I was already moving by the time she screamed. The girl whipped around, and right before I reached her, she flung her hands out. I kicked the girl in the stomach, and she smashed the older woman and little child against the wall and then collapsed to her hands and knees. The baby began to scream, and I stepped over the girl to plunge my knife into the child. At the last moment, the woman hunched down and twisted, trying to dart around me. The only thing she succeeded in doing was getting a knife stuck in her back just below the shoulder blade. She flung the child as she fell, and he rolled halfway across the room, where he curled himself into a ball And began to whimper. I turned to go get him when the woman’s hand reached out and grabbed my ankle. Yanking it free, I stumbled, and suddenly, I felt an arm around my neck. The girl had launched herself onto my back and was trying to keep me from moving. I ignored her and moved to pick up the baby. The accursed girl bit down on my neck and jabbed one of her fingers in my eye. Yelling in frustration, I dropped my knife and grabbed the girl by the hair. Using my other hand to grab her arm, I flung her off my back and smashed her head into the wall. She collapsed next to the now-dead maid.

I decided to end this and lifted my foot to stomp down on the child's head. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I twisted out of the way as a young man thrust a spear at me. In one fluid motion, I yanked the spear out of his hands, flipped it around, and plunged it into his gut.

I was turning around to finish the job as I felt the pain of a dagger piercing my back. There is no doubt, it had punctured my lung. The world spun as I collapsed to the floor. The screams of an awakened house faded into a buzz as I closed my eyes.

Amos

I stared out the window of the carriage as we crossed the Nore River and sighed with relief. We weren't home yet, but I could be patient for another two days. Why two days instead of the one and a half that it took before? Because I had a whole caravan of people with me. I had meant to leave two days after the judgment of Baron Decmoore, but with the one hundred and twenty gold that I had, I kept finding things I just had to get. Most notably people and food.

Instead of the two mules I wanted to buy, I bought ten. We ended up showing the castle smith how to shoe a mule with our horseshoes, so we were ready to go. I got four wagons. Which means I doubled the amount of wheat I could bring back. That is not saying much since each wagon could only carry 400 "stones," as they called it, which translated to about nine bushels of wheat. I wasn't exactly sure because the steward and farmers didn't keep precise records as far as measuring the amounts of grain, but it was about ten to thirteen acres. Not even a full farm.

The other wagons had a good supply of tin, salt, and other hard-to-get commodities, as well as supplies for the trip back. Yes, I spent money on some spices. I justified myself because I wasn't spending money on wine. A human mind can justify anything as long as it tries hard enough. Cookie was going to be so happy. Yes, I am doing this for her; it has nothing to do with my own desire to eat food that actually tastes good.

The price of salt bothered me, though. We had the ocean two days north of us. Wasn't extracting salt from water done by heating up the water or something? Maybe they used evaporation. That was never covered in my wilderness survival merit badge, and quite frankly, that was not something I had even thought to look up during all my random internet searches. Another thing to put on the to-do list.

Ok, now, onto the people. Yes, I bought people. These were a few types of people. First were the serf contracts. Technically, I was buying their labor and not them, meaning I exchanged food, clothing, and a place to stay for their service. A politician's way of justifying slavery. The problem was that was how you got farmers here. I was thinking of finding a way to change all of my serfs to peasants, but I wasn't able to do that right away. Next were my construction crews. These guys were going to build my roads and help me drain the swamps. These were mostly made up of debtors. People are working off their debts through hard labor. Among the debtors, I found someone I was ecstatic to meet.

Barry was a large, burly guy, and when I was interviewing him, I found out that he and his sons used to be part of a shipbuilding crew. They had all been thrown in prison because a count had purchased a ship and put his son in charge of bringing the extremely expensive gift down to the capitol. He was going to show it off to his betrothed. The ship was lost not even one day outside of Vaspar on its maiden voyage. Since the captain and crew were not alive to blame, the count blamed the shipwright and his builders.

The count complained to his friend Duke Kimton, and Kimton had the shipwright executed, and the entire work crew were put in debtor's prison until they could repay the cost of the gift. That work crew was the most expensive thing I bought. After many years of working together, they had brought the cost of the debt down to sixty-seven gold crowns. To say that Draves was unhappy with what I had done would be an understatement. I, however, thought this could be the best investment I had ever made. Time would tell.

I hired a few freemen on a temporary basis. One was an engineer of sorts, and another had experience with building waterwheels. I was hesitant to bring on temporary workers because I didn't want them to see certain things, but I was hoping to have them look at my rivers and determine the best place to build an overshot waterwheel. The one at Bicman was an undershot, but I wanted one at Melnon and Alfer. I definitely wasn't going to tell them what I would use them for. They would be curious, of course, but these inventions would be top secret.

After we factored in families that were brought along, which was seventy-eight people in total, we were moving along the northern road. The wagon we had brought down with us was now packed with travel tents and blankets. I had bought a horse so that one of my men could travel as fast as he could to make it back before us and let Bicman know to prepare for a large crowd.

I remember watching some old show about hand-cart pioneers. Large groups of people all working together to make a new home for themselves somewhere. This was not like that. The only thing we had in common was handcarts. Most of these people were not looking forward to going to Bicman. Walking long hours, travel rations, and sleeping in tents to go to a backwater barony was not these people's idea of a good time.

A lot of fights broke out, and my small contingent of men had to break them up. People arguing over the best place to sleep, accusations of theft, and just plain grumpiness were the most common things to start it. There were also more serious problems like actual theft, and some altercations came to blows. One man struck another with a rock, and he regretted it when my men came to break up the fight.

After that, nothing else got that far out of hand. We did have a few people run away, but when people saw a few brought back in chains by my men, those who had ideas of running fell into line. I hated the fact that I had to put these people in chains, but I had bought their debt, and they had signed a contract with me. I explained to them that if they wanted to go back to the labor camps at any time, I could arrange that. In the contract, I had shortened everyone's sentence by 20%, so they were coming out with a pretty good deal.

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I was pleased that by the time we reached the Nore River, most of the fighting and other issues had started to calm down. I was hoping that it was because I had been out among the people at every stop we took to speak with them and get to know them and their backgrounds. I really didn't remember their names, but I tried.

Once upon a time, when I thought I was going to be a successful businessman, I took an online class on leadership. I wish I had paid better attention, but to me, it was so boring. One thing I did remember was a study about empathy and how it was the first step in any relationship. I was hoping that this applied to gathering people as a feudal lord.

'I mean, I was basically running an agriculture and mining business, right?'

The trip north hadn't been all bad. Some people considered me their savior. Most of the shipbuilders' families thought I was some sort of saint, come to answer their prayers. It became a little awkward as my constant presence around them caused the novelty of talking to a lord to wear off. Suddenly, I had young girls surrounding me, and some became so bold as to throw out veiled hints. I was actually looking forward to the reprieve of being able to hide in my manor.

Barry and his sons were great to talk to. I learned a lot about the current ship-building techniques. When I started discussing the things I knew about modern shipbuilding, he immediately brought over the assistant shipwright Cammeron. He was kind of the foreman for the operations under the former owner of the company. He was also the cousin of the executed shipwright.

Needless to say, he was very dubious when I tried to convince him of the benefits of triangular sails. I could tell he was trying not to call me crazy outright. I mean, try having someone who admitted they had only recently been to the ocean tell you how to build a ship. There is no way he could accept that a triangular sail could allow you to sail into the wind at a thirty-degree angle. I mean, the best reference to how it worked was how airplanes created lift. So it was best to just show him.

However, some other concepts about the hull and rigging interested him. He was really curious to see if he could figure out how to create a double hull compartmentalize the lower decks to reduce the risk of sinking. The first thing I was going to have him and his men do was build me a small sailing ship with a Bermuda and jib sail. The other concepts that I didn't realize their junks didn't have were centerboards and rudders. I convinced myself that building this ship was important in our future endeavors to take over the shipping industry.

These discussions of ships helped to pass the time as we made our way through all the villages and eventually got to the Nore. As we crossed the river, I noticed a large shed-like structure off to the side of the road that I hadn't noticed before.

"Captain, I didn't notice that structure before. What is that?"

"Ah, that is the tax barn, My Lord. The count's tax collector does not always want to come all the way to Bicman, so he had us build a barn and bring our taxes here. In fact, there have been years when he didn't even come in person but instead hired a caravan that stopped in Pollman to journey a few days further to collect the taxes.

"Wait! How did he know that we were paying the proper amount?" I said in disbelief.

Draves shrugged, "That was the steward's responsibility. It isn't like he didn't come at all to verify our yields. It was just that it didn't happen every year—or every few years, for that matter."

"Talk about being the red-headed stepchild," I muttered. We weren't even worth a visit from the tax collector, let alone anyone else.

It was late spring by now, and there were a lot of buzzing insects. The first time I slapped an insect on the way north, it made me think of the Marsh Fever. We really needed to drain the swamp and marshes, but I wanted my road crews to venture there during the seasons when they were least likely to be affected. So, for the summer, I wanted them to build a road from Bicman to the Nore. We would also straighten the road so that there weren't so many twists and turns.

I needed to start talking with the engineer and the guy who built waterwheels about what I wanted, but they were just so annoying. Constantly complaining about this and that and how unbecoming it was that I was talking to peasants in my carriage. I also didn't want them to know any more than they had to. I would have told the guards and militia not to speak with them about anything we have done in Bicman, but as Freeman, they felt like they were above everyone because of their education anyways.

It annoyed me to no end that I would have to house them in the old steward's room until they were gone. That meant Patricia would have to move into the great hall to sleep, which, technically, because of her status, she should be there anyways. I had just had her on house arrest, but as long as she was behaving herself, I think it would be okay to stop guarding her. Maybe I would wait until after the trial.

I had put off Marcus's trial due to my trip, and I was not looking forward to it when I got back. I only had two choices though, kingdom slave or death. I hoped my hesitation made me a good person and not a coward. I already knew what I would decide. Killing someone was a line I wouldn't cross if I had another option.

I was staring out the window, deep in thought, when suddenly we passed a field of a brambly plant. Most of the buds were closed, but some had opened up, and a white fluff ball had appeared.

"Stop the carriage!" I shouted out the window.

As soon as it stopped, I was out of the carriage and running over to the field. That's right, I could run. Go me.

As I approached, I pulled at the ball of fluff, and it came off in a clump. I could see the many seeds inside and started to chuckle. Cotton, we had cotton!

"My Lord," Draves said as he caught up to me, "What appears to be the problem."

"We have cotton, Captain. Where I come from, this was a huge part of our economy."

"I believe cotton is very labor intensive. We would have to bring in a lot of people to harvest and pick through the cotton to extract the seeds."

"True, but that is why we are going to find a way to increase crop yield. The mules will allow us to plow more fields faster. This will mean we can implement a three-field crop rotation if we can get our crop production up to what others are getting. Then, we can get more non-food things into the rotation. Maybe grain, cotton, and then beans.

'And you are sure this three-field rotation will work better than the two?"

"I think so. I'm not a farmer. The information I have comes from three sources: school, 4X video games, and random searches on the Internet, when a miscellaneous thought popped into my head. I never paid much attention in class, and the other two sources could be completely wrong. I will be generous and say that I am 50% sure that the information I have on farming may be helpful."

"50%?" said in confusion.

"I'm sending you to school when we get back, Captain. It is not good if our serfs have a better education than our soldiers."

"As you wish, My Lord."

I decided to walk back to the carriage in silence. I would have to put my plans for cotton on hold until we got more things in place. I also sent a quiet prayer of gratitude to that annoying girl in history class. Buttface was the only reason I knew anything about the cotton gin.

We were just settling down for the evening when a group of my guards came marching down the road towards the campsite. "My Lord," the one leading the group said, with a bow, "It is my pleasure to welcome you back. We are extremely grateful for your safe return."

"Thank you. I am so glad to be back. I need more family members so I can send them instead next time. How is it that you came here?"

"We were commanded to come down every day for the last three days in hopes of catching you. We began to fear bandits had accosted you."

"Well, you see our large party. Unfortunately, they are not well-disciplined soldiers, so it took us time to move them all."

"News of your incredible fortune has reached us, My Lord. Praise be to the Endless One for preserving you, My Lord."

At first, I thought his words were just the usual platitudes spoken to gain favor, but there was a fervor in his eyes that confirmed the sincerity of his words. This guy was actually glad I was back. It was weirding me out a bit to have one of my people that I didn't really know give me genuine respect.

"Well, thank you. Uh…"

"Thomas, My Lord."

"Thank you, Thomas. I am trying to learn everyone's names, but it appears I have a way to go. Well, Thomas, can you give me an update on what has been going on since I left?

"My Lord, there is both good news and bad. I want to assure you that Lord Aaron is ok, but there was an attempt on his life."

Before I even realized it, I had reached forward and grabbed the man's shoulders. I almost shook him as I roared, "What happened?"

The man probably would have taken a step back if it weren't for the fact that I was gripping him. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I had not been touched in such a way since I had come here, and the sudden physical contact of a comforting hand woke me from my rage.

I released Thomas, and Captain Draves released my shoulder. What the captain had done would have been considered an insult by most nobility, and he would have been beaten for it. I just sighed and said, "Thank you, Captain, and I… I am sorry, Thomas. Please continue."

"Thank you for the apology, but it is I who spoke without tact. I just didn't know what else to say. As I said, Lord Aaron was well. An assassin entered the manor and snuck into the young lord's room. The babe woke, and Emily came in."

I immediately tensed. "Is…" I couldn't get the words out as my throat closed up.

"She is well, My Lord. She killed the assassin," He said seriously.

If my throat weren't so tight, I would have laughed. I couldn't picture the small fourteen-year-old girl killing anyone. It took almost a moment for me to pick my jaw up off the floor. "Are you sure? My Papermaker, Emily."

"It was her, My Lord," he said with a nod, "My Lord, Your Nursemaid Amy gave her life protecting the boy."

Shock returned to my face. I tried to hold myself together as I quietly said, "Tell me everything."

The guard told me how they found the grappling hook the man had used to scale the walls and the hole in the roof that led into my study. However, after an investigation, they found that the young militiaman who had been assigned to watch the door was snuggling with one of the maids in the hall around the corner. When the boy got in the room, he attacked the assassin but was overpowered and killed with his own spear. Emily had gotten a fractured arm and a concussion, but she still managed to pick up the assassin's dagger and knife him from behind before she collapsed.

As soon as he was finished, I quickly said, "Thank you, I must retire and think about this situation. Captain, please make sure no one disturbs me." with that, I walked as nobly as I could to the carriage, but I was pretty sure I was shaking when I got there.

Amy had not started off as anything more than an employee in my eyes. She had a stick up her butt when we first met, and it took a while for her and me to get along, but you don't spend time caring about the same child without getting to know the other person.

Amy was a good person who cared not only for her own children but also for the orphaned child of another. She was not my favorite person, but we were at least friendly. Her last action was to try to protect a child who was not her own, and so I wept.

I wept for Amy, a dedicated mother, and nursemaid. I wept for the foolish young man who was shirking his duties, but when he heard the cries for help, he ran in and tried to stop the assassination. I wept for the families of those who had been lost. Lastly, I wept for myself. I was not strong enough to handle this. I just didn't have what it took to do this.

It was in the early hours of the morning before I had gained control enough to start meditating. It took fifteen minutes for my mind to start to clear. When I did, I began to see the forest through the trees. I would do this. Life is about learning from mistakes.

'I would mourn with my people and move on.'

'I will learn from this and move on.'

I will conquer my fear and move on.'

This was the mantra I chose as the night passed and dawn broke over the mountains in the east.