The morning had been pleasant. We had just relaxed and talked about what they enjoyed doing in Kimton and my life in a backwater barony. Surprisingly, both couples expressed an interest in visiting. They thought it might be relaxing. I was pretty sure they would be bored to tears—well until they started snooping around and found all the things I was trying to keep secret.

We also discussed politics, and I realized that Carter must be a recruiter for the Baron Sophis faction within the Council. He subtly planted seeds of doubt in the minds of the people he talked to. The comments were crafted to cast doubt about the king's wisdom. He was not as good as 21st-century media, but he had some excellent skills. I would definitely hire him as a campaign manager. I began to wonder if he came up with them himself or Baron Sophis had coached him. Unfortunately, our time was cut short, and it was back to work for me.

The next day, my canvases were done, but I had to send a servant out to get them because I was barred from visiting the crafter's district. It was such a nuisance. I could not understand how nobles here could tolerate having to be restricted in their movements. I suppose I could use a disguise, but how close were we being watched? Besides, I had to trust Benjamin on this one. What is the point of a steward if you blow off all of his warnings?

The days flew by in a flash. I painted and partied every day and night for five days. I told Benjamin I needed a break. After these first three paintings were done tomorrow, I was going to take a whole day off even though I had other commissions lined up. He agreed that that was the best option, and so I sent a request to meet with Carter and Rulot in two days.

I was meeting many nobles and making connections, but getting accepted as one of them would require a lot of work. Right now, I was unique, but I would have to have prosperous lands if I truly wanted to be one of them.

It was the morning of the sixth day, and I was going to deliver the paintings today. I woke to a sharp knock on my door. "My lord, I must speak with you urgently," said Benjamin's voice from behind the door. This was odd behavior from him, so I, of course, told him to enter.

"My lord, you have been summoned to meet with the Duke at the first bell past noon today. We have to get you washed and dressed, and you will need to be there before the third bell of the morning.

"Why so early?" I asked as I jumped out of bed. "If the appointment is not until the afternoon."

"Because it will be during court, we will need to be there early to get a spot in the room. If the room is full, they will not let you in, and that will not excuse you from missing the meeting."

"I thought we had another five days? Why is he willing to meet me earlier?" I was actually glad for this. The sooner I painted him, the sooner I could leave.

"This is not a good thing. He would have had to rearrange things so that he could meet with you earlier than the scheduled time. So he is doing this to… I don't know, but it isn't good." He said nervously.

"Thanks for freaking me out, man," I muttered under my breath. "Well, then let's get me cleaned up and ready for my execution."

Benjamin frowned at my grim humor. But he also did not deny the fact that it was a possibility. This, of course, caused me to shudder. This was not going to be good.

We arrived at the castle early, just as Benjamin had instructed. A large group of commoners was already there, lined up in rows. We, however, were escorted straight to the doors of the throne room. It was quite impressive. Large golden thread embroidered tapestries of every color covered the walls. The throne itself was finely crafted and also covered in gold leaf. It sat empty, however, and so we all stood waiting. There were chairs, but only a few counts were sitting in them. Was this some sort of power play by the duke? I had heard he was the king's cousin, but does that really excuse him? Showing disdain for the barons seemed counterproductive. Or was this just standard behavior? Maybe I still didn't understand the culture.

I looked around the room and saw many people I recognized, but I was surprised by the number of barons that I did not recognize. I had only met a few counts, but I saw Count Fenro sitting and discussing something. He looked up at one point, and our eyes met. I couldn't identify the look in his eyes, but he looked away quickly. Something was off, and it made my stomach twist into knots.

About a half bell after the last noble had entered, the back of the room was filled with commoners. When I say commoners, I do not mean peasants and serfs. These were strictly Freemen.

The people around me were chatting amicably, but I had no one near me to give an introduction, and in this society, it would have been rude to introduce myself. Unfortunately, those I did recognize were not near me, and the way we were arranged did not make it convenient to go to them. So I went back to people-watching.

I noticed that there were three countesses among all the counts. I had no doubt one was Lady Blackwell. The first one I observed sat with a bored expression on her face. She had long black hair done in a thick braid that hung over her left shoulder. She looked to be in her mid-thirties. She looked as if she was here out of duty rather than necessity. She spoke when spoken to but did not engage freely in conversation, preferring to observe instead.

The second was very similar in appearance but almost the exact opposite in demeanor. Her black curly hair fell past her shoulders. She chatted amicably with the people around her and seemed to be having a good time with her fellow nobles. I wish I could hear the conversation.

The third had gray streaks running through her black hair, which was done up in an elegant bun. Her face was like stone as she scanned the room. She reminded me of a bird of prey—a hawk observing a field full of rabbits.

Any of these women could be the viper. Was it the one who had no desire to be there because she had plotting to do? Was it the one who looked like she was enjoying herself, playing the role of a pleasant woman while all the while pulling strings to make those around her dance to her tune? Or was she the hawk, taking in everyone and looking for those who would benefit or be a threat to her plans?

I was no detective who could deduce the motives of these individuals by subtle tells in their behavior. Just as I was looking for further insight, the doors behind the throne opened, and the duke walked out. The counts stood, and all the nobles bowed. The commoners all took a knee.

"Announcing His Highness Duke Philip Kimton." Said a servant of the duke.

The duke was a slightly obese man in his mid-thirties with curly black hair. His robes did not hide his beer belly, and his eyes confirmed all my worst fears. This man was not right in the head. I had seen this in some of my group therapy sessions, and the people didn't usually last long in the group setting. This guy was a puppy-kicker.

I mulled over all the possible implications of this, ignoring what the servant was saying until the judgments started. And just as I thought, there was no rhyme or reason to how he ruled his cases for the nobles. With some, he looked at how much pain he could cause one party or the other. Some he outright ignored and told them to figure out themselves, and for some, he simply made a judgment, and that was it. His expression was either bored, annoyed, or indifferent.

"Lord Amos Bicmon of the Bicman barony, you have been called to stand before His Highness to be judged." The servant's voice called out. A chill ran down my spine. I hadn't been the first to be judged, and not all were bad, but in my situation, I had no hope for a pleasant interaction. I took a knee and bowed my head. I was not supposed to speak unless asked to.

"You have been busy, Lord Bicman," The duke said in an annoyed tone. "I hear that you have visited the crafter's district in Middle City."

It was said as an accusation, and you could hear a pin drop in the room.

"I am a tolerant man, and because you are new to town, I will forgive this lack of propriety." His voice began to rise as he continued, "However, I invited you to Kimton to paint me. How dare you start painting other common nobles before me! My picture is to be a novelty above all other pictures in Kimton. You will burn every painting you have painted in Kimton as well as all others in your possession."

This man was truly insane. I was beginning to understand the depths of his madness. He wanted me to destroy my art to cause me pain. He could have just as easily claimed them for his own, but he must understand this would hurt me more.

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Fortunately, I was not foolish enough to argue. I would burn my paintings no matter how much it pained me.

Smuggness entered his voice as he continued. "Seeing how you enjoy the common rabble so much, you have my permission to mingle with them. You are henceforth barred from Upper City. You will only be allowed to travel through Upper City in order to visit the castle and paint me. You may speak."

I think he was hoping to get me in trouble by saying something wrong or not saying anything at all. I stayed on one knee but removed a small green leather-bound book from my vest. The cover had the title burned into it: "A Rise to Power."

It is about an amble who plots and murders his way to becoming king. Personally, I hated it, but I hoped the nobility here would love it.

"Your Highness, I am grateful for the mercy you have shown me. And as a gesture of gratitude for your leniency, I would be honored if you would accept this humble gift. A book from the Vaspar publishing house. It is the first copy they have ever made and is currently the most popular book in Vaspar. In fact, the demand is so high that the scribes cannot keep up with it."

On the first page, you will see that the Publishing house has stamped it with a seal of authenticity, which is number one. This indicates that it is, in fact, the first copy made.

This was only partly true, and I hoped he wouldn't thoroughly investigate. Yes, this was the first edition of the book. Yes, it was popular among the nobles at the reading clubs. But although the seal of authenticity was real, the publishing house hadn't opened by the time I left. So, to say it was a book from the publishing house was a bit of a stretch. The publishing house should be open by now, and this was the first book slotted to be produced, but I did not know how many were in circulation from the actual house. It could have been zero for all I knew.

The servant came down, grabbed the book, and brought it back to the duke. The duke did not touch it. Instead, in a flat voice, he said, "You are dismissed."

I went back to my spot, but it was taken. This had happened occasionally throughout the session. Those of us who had not pleased the duke or whose judgment was not in their favor were pushed back. But even among the rejects, there was a small bubble around me.

The next person up surprised me. It was Count Fenro. "My lord, I come bearing a gift. He pulled out a gold ring with a red stone. This is a ring crafted by Marc, the Goldsmith of Mahador, The most renowned goldsmith in all of Githum. The stone is a blood ruby imported from the mines of Kar-Tem."

I guess I knew what that look was all about when our eyes had met earlier. He had known what was happening.

The servant came down from the dais, grabbed the gift, and returned to the duke. The count was excused, and the two other barons I had painted approached with gifts of their own. They both glared at me as they returned to their places among their peers.

Seriously? It wasn't my fault you asked for me to paint you.

Oh, well, that's the way the cookie crumbles. We all get to live with the consequences of our mistakes.

The rest of the session went by in a blur, and I hurried out as soon as possible. When I got back to my carriage, Benjamin was waiting for me. The look on his face was like a thundercloud. "Ah, did you already hear about the judgment?"

"No, but I confronted my father, and he knew. He didn't bother warning us about it. I think he does not want me to go back to Bicman due to the upcoming invasion."

"Let it go, Benjamin. If you had children, would you act any differently?"

Benjamin didn't argue the point. Instead, he said, "Apparently, the duke was in a good mood. I am glad you are still alive."

"Yeah, me too. I am also glad he didn't tell me to return the money we made from the drawings. I am disappointed that we didn't make money on the paintings, but it is even more disappointing because he is making me burn all the paintings I have. It hurts when you put your heart and soul into your work, and then it is destroyed. Alright, let's go back to the inn. There is one good thing in all this." I said with a smile.

"And that is?"

"He said I should go mingle with the commoners."

I got a subtle glare of disapproval from Benjamin, but he said nothing.

We rode the rest of the way in silence. When I got back to my inn, I was surprised to find a letter waiting for me.

To the Baron Amos Bicmon,

If you are reading this, then the judgment went better than I feared it would. I hope that you will forgive me for not warning you of the judgment in advance. News spread of you painting others. We were chastised severely before the judgment but were sworn to secrecy. However, I feel this is a good lesson for you to learn. Tread carefully in the lion's den. Please burn this letter and do not contact me again.

Sincerely,

Count Fenro

This letter must have been intentionally delivered after we had gone to the trial.

The news of the duke's displeasure spread quickly, and the proprietor of the inn started to try to rush us out. If it weren't for my disgrace, he could be whiped for that. I didn't throw up a fuss, though. I had places to be. Apparently, I was not the only noble banished to Middle City. There was a district in Middle City called the Noble District. It is where knights and barons who somehow lost favor stayed. The inns were just as nice on the inside as the ones in Upper City, but the outside made them look drab. It was probably intentional. I am sure the duke didn't want those who had fallen out of favor with him to have a nice place to stay.

As soon as I settled in, I realized that I had a few hours before the sun went down, and I wanted to see the middle of the city. I wanted to see what was being made and if we could make it better in Bicman. The first place we visited was a smith shop. He was making pots at the time but stopped as soon as we entered. The man was so nervous to see a noble in his shop that he was barely coherent as he sputtered out answers to my questions. I was left disappointed.

"I fear that is how most of the Freemen will be here, my lord. It is probably best if you just send me with a list of questions to ask." Benjamin said.

He really didn't want me here, and I probably would have taken his advice if all I needed was someone to answer questions. But I also wanted to see what was going on in all the various shops. We stopped by a wheelwright, a wagonmaker, a fuller, and a brewer.

I was not going to drink alcohol, but I was not going to force a prohibition on my people. Not only was it a freedom of choice, but it also didn't turn out well in America. So I figured if I was going to have alcohol in Bicman, it might as well be good. From what I understood from those in Bicman, our brew there was awful. The only thing that had any god flavor was the stuff made from the apples. They also didn't have any distilled spirits. The fact that everything in Bicman had a lower alcohol content could be a good thing, but I would need to create a distillery for other things besides alcohol, and once I did that, someone was going to get the idea to try and distill alcohol. I hate to say it, but it might be a good export. Wish I could remember how Jackie's Dad's contraption in his shed worked. Unfortunately, I only had a general idea.

I struck gold at a woodworker's shop. When I traveled out back, there were about four men fitting slats of wood into a long pole. They were building it in a spiral shape, and I immediately recognized it.

"Are you building a pump for ships?" All the men turned to look at me, but the owner, who had been showing me around, looked at me in confusion.

"No, my lord, a mine recently filled with water, and we are building this pump to draw out the water. Although…" He paused for a moment. "A smaller one could be fitted to ships."

He smiled and said, "My lord, you must be very wise to think of such a thing. I would not have ever imagined that a lord such as yourself would dain to share such wisdom with a commoner such as myself. May I attempt to build one for the river boats, my lord." There was pleading in his eyes.

Well, the cat was out of the bag. And like the plow, once it was out, there was no way I could put it back in. Not that I cared. This spurred a lot of ideas for me. I once built a snap-together model of an early American steam-powered ship. There was a piece on the ship I didn't recognize, so I looked it up. It turned out to be a bilge pump, and that led me to wonder how it worked, so down the rabbit hole, I went. Soon I found out that before they used a bilge pump, they used Archimedes screw. That is what they were building here.

Learning about the Archimedes screwW led me to find out about the original design of the Screw Steamer Propeller. Then someone hit the bottom of their ship on a rock and broke off most of the screw. The shorter propeller caused less drag and…

I slapped my forehead. The turbine! Why were we not trying to build a turbine rather than a water wheel? Hydropower didn't use water wheels in the modern age. We used turbines. Did they have to be made of metal to handle the pressure? I could cast a bronze one, but would it be better than a wheel right now? I had to get back to Bicman and experiment.

Benjamin coughed and brought me back to reality.

"Sorry, good man. Yes, you may use it without concern. It was just a passing thought and is of no use to me. Benjamin, we are leaving."

On the way back to the inn, I thought of the pump. That same rabbit hole had me looking at different types of pumps, so I had a general idea of how they worked. Should I try and build a pump? The problem was I didn't have enough people to experiment. Well, now I do, but first, I would have to make sure we had enough food to last until the next harvest. Oh, and also possibly the fight of an invading army. But if we did. I would have my people figure out why a turbine was better than a water wheel and how to build a pump instead of a well.

When we arrived home, a messenger was waiting for us.

He bowed and said, "My lord, I have a letter from Lord Carter Frabak for you."

He handed me a letter and a silver coin. "He said to have a drink for him for old-time sake."

He turned to leave and said. "Oh, yes, 5,2,7,4,3. Have a good day, my lord."

I opened the letter and began to read.

Baron Bicman,

I can no longer meet with you. You are no better than a rat's tail. You belong in Lower City. As of tonight, we are no longer associated.

-Lord Carter Frabak

When I was done, I thought through the numbers and smiled. "Well, Benjamin, It looks like we have somewhere to be tonight."