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Book 2 Chapter 6

Once again, I was making my way back up the hill. I hoped I had done the right thing with Hyrum. I wasn’t worried about him telling anyone my story. He was probably considered crazy. I know when I was recovering, other people's stories helped. None were exactly like mine. In fact, I would have gladly switched places with anyone in those therapy groups.

Would NLP and Hypnosis work? I used them for myself, but I never helped others with it. I was always the “You think you screwed up? Your life could be worse. Just listen to Amos’s story.”

There were some good signs with Hyrum, though. He talked, he asked questions, and most importantly, I saw hope in his eyes. Now, he just needed a bath and a shave. If he hasn’t done that by the time we meet next, I am going to insist he do it.

I spent the next little while playing with Aaron and then got to work on making my next set of picture books.

I had just started working on my comic strip “The Farmer and His Dog” —I had really missed doing that while I was gone—when I got a knock at the door. “Come in.”

Edward was standing there with a small scroll tied with a ribbon in his hand. “Um, My Lord, you have received a letter from Manticole.”

“Hmm, it must be from my Aunt. How did it get here so fast? Manticole is further south than the capitol.” I mumbled to myself.

Edward handed me the scroll and then stepped back. I unrolled the scroll and read it twice.

“What the heck is this?”

Looking up, I realized Edward was still standing there. Shoot, he must have been waiting for me to dismiss him. Oh well, it worked out for the best.

“Edward, go fetch Marshandra. Oh, wait, have you met her yet?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

"Good. Also, find Captian Draves. This will be a private matter between the three of us. Make sure we are not disturbed.”

“OK.” He said with a nod. Then he strode quickly out the door.

I reread the letter.

Regent Amos Bicman,

I have heard by way of Lady Catherine Manticole that you have lost your family. My condolences to you. I assume that your grief is the cause of my not receiving a personal letter. I also understand that you have become Regent over the land. I am glad to hear Lord Aaron is well. Due to your elevation in status, I thought it best that we terminate our wedding quickly so that you might find a suitable bride befitting your rank. Unfortunately, as you know, the betrothal must be annulled in the presence of a priest with both parties present. I am not able to travel to Bicman until next year after the harvest. If you wish to reach a more rapid conclusion regarding this situation, please feel free to join us in Manticole. I am sure your Aunt would welcome the visit.

Elizabeth

To say I was stunned was an understatement. How the heck was I betrothed? Not a single scrap of paper in this manor indicated I was betrothed. The only time the name Elizebeth came up on anything was on a parchment I had read. Some guy said he would be arriving within the month with his daughter Elizabeth. I would have to dig that one up.

Just then, Marshandra entered. “Edward said you seemed troubled. How may I help you?”

"Let me read this to you, and you can tell me what you think."

Marshandra’s eyes went wide as I read the letter.

“So he did go through with it. After what you did to the girl, I was sure that her father wouldn't go through with it.”

I became uncomfortable. “What did I do?”

Marshandra started to become flustered, “Well, not really you, My Lord, you’re, ah, not really the same…”

“Marshandra, what did I do?” I said firmly.

Marsh grimaced. “Well, you convinced her to play a game where you blindfolded her. Then you brought her to your room, tied her to a chair, and cut off most of her hair. You had found some sort of dye that you poured on her the rest. Then you left her there. When she was found, they washed her hair, and the dye had caused splotches of orange in her beautiful black hair.”

“Are you serious?! Dang, I'm going to have to have a bodyguard with me any time I am near her, and probably an extra hundred guards patrolling the manor. I also will not be able to eat anything for fear of being poisoned. How do I even apologize?”

“My Lord, you were young. You have matured since then. You-”

I cut her off. “Marshandra, you are someone I trust the most in this world. You have also seen me every day for my whole life. If everyone else is whispering how I am not the real Lord Amos, then when we are in private, you don’t have to pretend. I know I am not him, so this isn’t really my fault. But due to the situation, I still feel bad for the girl, and I will have to take responsibility for the previous Amos’s actions.”

“You admit it?” Marsh said in shock.

“Let’s just keep it between you, me, and the fencepost, shall we.”

“The fencepost?”

“Something my grandpa used to say. Anyways, I-”

Just then, there was a knock at the door. “Enter,” I said.

Draves entered and said, “My Lord, Edward said you had something to discuss."

I handed Draves the letter. His expression didn’t change as he read. When he was finished, he asked, “Where is the agreement?”

“I have no idea. I swear I have looked over all the papers in this place. My only thought is that the old Amos found it and destroyed it. I can’t imagine my father or the last steward losing it. He may have been a murderer, but he was an organized one.”

“You may be right.”

“Amos was really not looking forward to this marriage, was he? Marshandra told me what he did to the girl. I can’t imagine a… Hm, actually, I have no idea how old she is; she could be older than me.”

“I believe she was a year your junior, My Lord,” Marsh said.

“Well, that poor girl had to get her head shaved, and she probably wore a wig for at least a year. I don’t know how I can ever make it up to her. At least her letter was polite.”

“My Lord, she didn’t write this letter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her letter was sent by pigeon. See the symbol on the bottom. Pigeon mail is rare because it is expensive. Also, when you write the letter, it is coded in a shorthand so it can be attached to the pigeon. Then, the code is interpreted at the end of the journey, and they recreate it. The words are probably not the same."

“Dang, this certainly would fool me.”

“Their letter writers are very good at extrapolating meaning from the code and making well-written letters. But what this means for you is that she may have been put in hidden insults that didn’t make it into the translation. I see some things that could be interpreted as such.”

“What? Where?”

“She mentions your neglect of not sending her a personal letter. It is more of a rebuke to shame you.”

“I thought she was trying to be considerate. Of course, I kind of thought that before Marshandra told me what I had done. So yeah, now I can see that she was probably taking a dig at me.” I said with a shrug.

“The second she mentions her pleasure in knowing Aaron is in good health, she probably is mocking you for having a baby as a roadblock to your becoming a Baron.”

“Ha, little does she know that Aaron is my key to only having seventeen more years of having to be in charge.”

Both Marsh and Draves looked uncomfortable at that last statement.

“Oh, come on, guys. Aaron will be a great Baron. You just have to wait and see.”

“If he is raised by you, then I am sure he will be,” Marsh said placatingly.

“OK, so how do I respond? If she was willing to send this by pigeon, then should I respond in the same way?”

“I believe that would be appropriate. You will have to send someone to Vaspar with some gold to send it.”

“Gold?!”

“Pigeon mail is expensive, My Lord.”

“She must really want this over with quickly. I imagine she was counting on me having enough time to travel down to Manticole if she got it to me soon enough. Unfortunately, I have all those nobles coming for painting throughout the year.”

By the time we finished discussing how I should respond to the letter, it was dinner time. Unfortunately, due to their status, the engineer and water mill designer were allowed to sit at my table. They weren’t nobles themselves, but they were children of nonhereditary knights, which gave them the necessary status to be invited to my table. I didn’t have to allow them to join me. Some nobles would never have allowed anyone other than another noble to sit at their table, but I wanted to discuss the plan for tomorrow with them. Also, I didn’t need them annoying my people.

The waterwheel maker was a recommendation I got from Casper, Vaspar's steward. He was in his forties and had been designing watermills his whole life. His name was Sanders, and he was the son of Sir Timothy Blackmon. The guy he had brought along with him was Harry, Son of Sir Rick Portlow. Sanders recommended him because he had studied in the most recent schools of engineering. Sanders felt he was a real genius when it came to dam design. As sons of knights, they were both allowed the title of Gentleman.

“Well, Gentlemen, we have a busy day tomorrow. We will be traveling to Alfer to look at suitable locations for a dam so we can build a watermill.”

“My Lord, I had the opportunity to look at your maps this afternoon. I hope you don’t find it impertinent of me to ask why Alfer? They do not produce much grain,” Sanders said.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Now, it was my turn to act like an incompetent lord. Really, it wasn’t hard. “My Barony has to be known for something. Imagine the prestige of letting others know I have dams and watermills in even my villages. I will eventually build one in all my villages. I received money from the count, you know. Why waste it on things like clothes?”

“I see. Truly an inspired plan, My Lord.” Harry said.

I knew he was mocking me, but I played along. “Thank you. I knew that you, as a scholar, would understand my idea.”

We chatted a bit more, and I found that the conversation wasn’t as terrible as I thought it would be as long as I kept them talking about news from the Dukedom. They talked about people and things that they must have assumed everyone knew about, so I just asked follow up questions or nodded along. I gleaned some interesting tidbits.

When dinner was over, the two men went back to their shared room, and I helped get things ready for school. I made sure Eward attended, partly to impress him and partly so he could practice his multiplication and division. Also, he needed to learn my new number system.

It wasn’t new for him. We had discussed it all before on the trip to Bicman, but he needed practice. I wanted him to be able to have his multiples and division tables done up to ten.

The new book I finished was read out loud and then passed around so that everyone got a chance to admire the pictures. I hadn’t even sewn it up yet, but they had made me bring it out as soon as I mentioned it.

I refused to bring out “The Farmer and His Dog.” There had been a tradition of it being read and passed around in the mornings at the town square Whenever I finished one. I refused to break that tradition. The nice thing about the Comic was that I had read a ton of comics when I was younger, and not all my material had to be original. Thank goodness there were no interplanetary plagiarism laws.

I went back to my study to see if I could find out any information on Elizabeth or her father but then got distracted with a project I had been working on in secret before I got my summons to Vaspar. I had Sam make me a small, thin board about the size of my hand. I had him put a lot of small holes in it of different sizes and distances apart. Whenever I got bored in my study, I would take a few minutes to thread cow hairs through the holes and loop them back around. The cows here had slightly shaggy hair that was moderately stiff. I wanted to find a way to make a hairbrush. The combs were OK, but they didn’t give the same smooth feel you get from a brush. So I was left with experimenting with this board on how many bristles I should tie in each bunch and how far apart they should be. I think I figured it out, but I was trying a few more hole patterns. As the light faded, I finished the last knot. I marked the holes that I liked the most and went to bed. I would bring the board to Sam tomorrow and have him make me one that had the pattern of holes I wanted. I was going to become a hero to women everywhere.

*******

I got up slightly before the Kayver crowed and went on a jog. After that, I did some Tai Chi on the training field. I still hadn't integrated swordsmanship into my training, as Draves suggested. Chris and his recruits were just getting set up, so I joined them for some training spear training.

“You're starting to move like a soldier, Lord Amos.”

“Thanks,” I said while wheezing, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“A few more years, and you might actually look like one.” He said with a mocking grin.

And there it was.

“If looking like a soldier makes me as ugly as you, I think I will pass.”

“Are you calling soldiers ugly,” he said loud enough that those around us could hear.

“Nope, just you. Look, I would love to stay and once again beat you in a battle of wit, but I also have a barony to run. Have a good day." I waved to all the people on my way into the manor and got similar waves back. My guards, who had been shadowing me ever since I got up, paused at the door, and I went in to soak in the bath that had already been prepared.

After I got dressed, I found that the guard at my door had accepted a package for me. It had been delivered by Jacklyn. When I looked inside the box, I found the pins I had been waiting for. They were perfect—small but beautifully crafted. He had been able to make six from a single gold coin. Hopefully, I won’t need to give out more of these anytime soon.

After a bath and a quick meal, it was time to go. Sanders and Harry had their own horses, and I let Edward and my two guards use the horses belonging to the other members of my family. Drives had his own horse, so our party of six headed out towards Kerisi.

We stopped in Kerisi to have lunch. The headman took me aside and held out a small pouch of yellowish crystals—the largest was no bigger than my pinky nail. “My Lord, is this what you were looking for?” he said softly.

My eyes went wide at the sight. I looked over at the other members of my party, who were sitting on stumps or logs eating their meals. They were all looking at us curiously.

“How did you do it?” I whispered.

“Quite by accident. We left the pot on the coals overnight, and in the morning, most of the liquid evaporated. As my wife was mixing it, she found a lump at the bottom. We thought it was wrong because it didn’t look like the salt crystals you told us about. When we pulled it out, some of it broke apart, and a few of the smaller pieces looked more like crystals. We ground it up, and this is what we got.”

It didn’t taste like the white sugar I was used to. It was more similar to brown sugar, or was this what they called raw sugar? I wonder if that is why they called white sugar refined sugar. That must have been sugar with nothing else mixed in it. How would you separate the different chemicals?

“This is excellent,” I said in a hushed voice. “Have you tried it?”

“No, My Lord, I didn’t-”

“Try it,” I said excitedly.

He pinched out a crystal and popped it in his mouth. “My Lord, that is extremely sweet! Forgive me, but I am not sure I care for it.”

“To each their own, I guess. It would probably be better in baked goods or sprinkled on top of something. OK, this is what I want you to do. Grind this up as fine as you can. The crystals need to be very fine. How much more do you have?”

"We managed to find a dozen more, but I don’t expect them to be ready to pick until next month. We got lucky with these. If you pick them too early, they don’t have any sweetness at all.”

“Given that these came early, do you think if we planted them ourselves, we could get two harvests a year?”

“I don’t know, My Lord, would you like me to plant the eyes of the plants we have harvested.”

‘Eyes? Were these like potatoes?’

“Yes, let’s try.”

I looked over and saw that my men were getting up.

“Store this in a cool, dry place in a sealed container. Moisture will ruin it. When we have about few kilograms of it, we can start experimenting with baking sweet treats.”

“It will take a lot to get that many kilograms.”

“Don’t worry, there is no rush. Thank you for your hard work. With this product, we will be able to increase the available jobs. Farmers, sugar makers, toothbrush manufacturers, and even need to have a local dentist.”

I chuckled at that last one.

Paul politely ignored the things I said that didn’t make sense and said. “It will be as you say, My Lord.”

My group started the next leg of our journey slightly before noon. About half a bell later, we heard voices coming from the direction of the river to our left. I could barely make out people doing something near the river.

“Draves, what is over there?”

“The cutting camp.”

“The what?”

“Forgive me, My Lord. I forgot that this is your first time to Alfer," He whispered. "The logs from Alfer are floated down the river and collected here.”

“Seriously?”

Now I felt bad. I had neglected to visit some of the villages in my barony. Alfer, Barim, and Cofi were under my rule, yet I had not bothered to visit them. This would change as of today. I met Headman Tarrence of Alfer when he came to my Manor one time. He was a gruff man, but he had a good head on his shoulders. Cofi’s headman annoyed me every time I saw him. There was just something about him that was off. I needed to go see what was going on in Cofi.

“Draves, I want to go check out the camp.”

“Certainly, My Lord.”

Another few minutes up the road, there was a cut-off that headed towards the river in a southwest direction, making its way back towards the river. The voices became clearer as we traveled, and we came upon the camp. Logs off to the side were being pulled up onto large frames. Men worked in pairs to saw through the wood. The wood was braced on a platform over a ditch. One man was below the wood while another was up top. The top man guided them as they worked the saw up and down. I would not want to be the bottom man with all the sawdust falling in his face.

There was a waterfall here, about a fifteen-foot drop. Right before the drop, posts had been driven into the river. They trapped any floating logs that made it past a group of men with poles. The poles had hooks on the end that were used to masterfully pull the logs to a muddy shore.

Someone noticed us, and the work around the camp slowly came to a stop. Well, everyone except those pulling logs from the river stopped. Someone in a lone tree near the river was still counting logs coming down, so those men couldn’t stop.

A stocky man with thick red hair and a beard strode over and gave a deep bow. “How may I help you, My Lord.”

“We were on our way to Alfer when we heard your voices, and I decided to stop by. I regret not making my way out here sooner.”

“We are honored that you have come to visit.”

“Why don’t you explain what you all do here? I have seen some production numbers, but I have to admit I am not sure how this whole process works.” I said curiously.

As Brian explained their operation to me, I decided he would be a good man to review my designs and determine how best to build the mill.

Partway through my explanation, Harry called out to me. “My Lord, would you mind taking a look at this.”

He and Sanders had walked over to the river and were animatedly talking about the falls. As I approached, Henry turned to face me.

“My Lord, I know your heart is set on having a watermill in each village to increase your prestige, but this location would be perfect for one. We wouldn’t even have to do much work to convert it.”

Personally, I loved the idea; I could visualize the sawmill sitting just below the cliff. I could have my men pulling the logs ashore just like they had been doing all along, and then they could slide the logs right into place rather than lift them.

Also, it was far enough off the main road to keep it from prying eyes. This was another design that I could only make a lump sum on. I wanted to sell the design to Count Vaspar. Maybe I should

“You want my people to share the mill?” I said, trying to sound shocked.

Henry continued to argue his point. “It will allow you to produce flour more quickly.”

I didn't want to push too hard, so I decided to pretend like I was caving. “Yes, well, that is one of the reasons I requested to come here. We shall build a mill here just as I hoped.”

Dang, pretending to be foolish was much harder than doing it naturally. I needed to keep up the ruse that I was being prideful about trying to put waterwheels in places that didn’t make sense, or they were going to figure out these weren't grain mills I was attaching to the waterwheels. Then they would start getting nosy.

I wasn't worried about the information spreading. Again, we didn't have a patent system. I just wanted to sell the idea to Count Vaspar for a lot of gold.

“My Lord, won’t a mill interfere with the logging,” Brian said.

“Brian, come with me. I must speak with you concerning how you address your lord,” I said sternly. Really, I just wanted to speak with him in private.

He nervously followed me towards the camp. His other men drew near but gave us a few meters of space.

“Sorry, Brian, I didn’t mean to make you nervous, but I needed to get away from those two engineers. They’re not my people, and I didn’t want to discuss our plans in front of them. I’m not building a grain mill here. I’m building a watered-powered sawmill. Once we get these guys out of here, we will start working on it. I only need them to place the water wheel and the shaft in the correct place. I want you to come to the manor and look at some of the designs I have come up with.”

The look on some of the men’s faces who were listening in was priceless.”

“A water-powered saw. It sounds fantastical,” Brian said in awe. “How does it work?”

“Come pick up the plans later. Then, you can bring a copy back to your men, and you all can discuss it. You will also need to get your woodworkers involved. Mine will be too busy to build the gears and such.”

The men began to chuckle and smile. Brian said, “Do not worry, My Lord. If there is one thing the people of Alfer know, it is woodworking. Some of us have seen that plow of yours and were wondering if we could build our own.”

“I know you have a smithy that is used part-time. Would he be up to the task?”

“May have to have Jorb do the blade. Bo mainly does small things like nails and stuff.”

“OK, so just so we are all clear, the new people I brought are not to know our future plans. Brian, I want you to meet me at my manor tomorrow. I am going to leave the two engineers with you all for now. I am going to go up to Alfer and pick up the family of the kid who fought to protect my Nephew. There is a memorial service for anyone who wants to come. It will be just before dusk in the square at Bicman.”

I left the men and went to explain my plans to those I brought. “Gentleman, I am planning to travel to Alfer to visit some people there. As we have already found a place for the mill, I do not think it is necessary for you to travel with me. I want you to stay here and assess the place further so that you can start building the dam and wheel as soon as possible. I should return in three to four hours. If you need to leave before then, I will leave one of my guards to escort you.”

“Edward, you will be coming with me. For your duties, you will need to get to know all the headmen of each village.”

We mounted up and were on our way in a few moments.

“My Lord, I have to admit I am curious as to why you have decided to put a watermill out here. Forgive me, but I do not think it is for the reasons you told those freeman.” Edward said as we traveled.

“Oh, that's right. I haven't discussed the real reason for the waterwheels with you.” So, for the rest of the trip, we discussed what the wheels would be used for.