"Looking back, I cannot help but shake my head at my naivety when I first arrived here on Marth. However, growing up in suburban America is not the best place to help you develop the mentality necessary to survive in a world so different from Earth. Though I am a far cry from the boy who first came to this world, I am grateful for my past. We are all an amalgamation of our experiences, both good and bad." - An excerpt from the hidden journal of Baron Amos Bicman.
I hurt everywhere. The pain was a dull throb that penetrated every cell of my body. I was supposed to be dead. I remember fading into oblivion on the hospital bed. I had watched from above my body as the monitor flat-lined. The light was there. It had called to me, and I had answered its call. Did I go to hell? Was I to experience pain for the rest of eternity because I didn’t join some religion?
I opened my eyes and saw filtered light coming through some sort of brown cloth. The blanket was lightweight and prickly. As a chill ran down my body, I suddenly realized I was completely naked. I could feel a softer sheet under me, but it definitely wasn’t a hospital bed. The cushioning was like laying on a pile of straw or soft sticks. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Was I back in my body being prepared for a cremation? That didn’t make sense either.
I tried to sit up and found that, besides the pain, my body was incredibly weak. Trying to sit up felt like I was doing triceps dips with heavy weights on my chest. As I slowly struggled to lift myself off of the mat I was lying on, my head began to throb more intensely. Nevertheless, I persisted until I was at an angle where the sheet fell off my face. As I looked around, my brain had trouble processing what I saw. The shock of it caused me to collapse back onto the stiff straw-filled pillow my head had been resting on. As I lay there, I tried to rationalize what I had seen. I was on a twin sized canopy bed with the deep maroon cloth pulled back and tied with a thick rope to each corner. The walls of the room were made of stone blocks. Nothing adorned them, which made the room seem drab. A solid wooden door was on the far wall, and as I turned to the left, I noticed a small window with no glass in it. I saw that there was a shutter on the outside that had been left open.
Nope, I’m not going to be able to rationalize all this. Where the crap am I?
As soon as I thought that, snatches of memories swirled around in my head. Memories that were not my own. I was looking through the eyes of a young man as he sat at a large dining table. The old table would seat about ten people but only had me and five others at it. The room was large, and the group’s table was at the end of it.
The man at the head of the table looked regal in a fine-cut outfit. He wore a plain white shirt with an open maroon jacket. On his neck, he wore a white scarf tied in a knot over his left shoulder. The two tails of the scarf hung down over his heart. His neatly trimmed black beard with a hint of gray hid a strong jawline. He was huge and not in a fat way. This guy was broad-chested and big-shouldered, a football quarterback for the NFL. The type of body women swooned over.
The woman to his right looked to be his wife. She had straight, light brown hair that complimented her heart-shaped face. The orange light of a setting sun coming in from a window behind her lit it with a subtle luster that made it glow. She wore a simple yet elegant maroon dress with a high neckline collar. There was no embroidery, but a beautiful gold brooch was pinned over her heart. It looked to be in the shape of a family crest. The woman next to her had thick gray hair. The signs of age showed on the skin of her face that had just started to wrinkle. She wore solid black with the same style broach the woman to her left wore. The only difference was that the brooch was on her right breast.
On the opposite side of the table was a young man who looked to be in his late teens. His hair was similar to the man at the head of the table, but his face did not show a strong jawline, and his build was not nearly as impressive. His features were similar to the woman who sat across from him. He may not have looked like his father physically, but the air of dignity mirrored the other man exactly. The outfit was identical to his father’s. The only difference was that his scarf was over his right breast.
To his left was the last member of the table. She had black hair like the men, but other than that, her features were nothing like the rest of the members at the table. She was beautiful, with high cheekbones and beautiful emerald eyes. The only thing that ruined it was her haughty air. She gave off such a better-than-thou attitude that it almost exuded from her pores. Her dress also showed her desire for extravagance; it was finely made with extensive embroidery. However, the beauty of the dress did not hide her round pregnant stomach.
I focused on the body I was in. I was sitting next to the older woman. I couldn’t see myself, of course, but my mind provided me with the details I was looking for. The body belonged to a chubby young man who was…15 or 16. He was large but not at all like his father. The kid must have never exercised a day in his life. His maroon jacket was tight on him, and the scarf hung behind him rather than in front, signifying he was not the heir. He also boiled with jealousy towards…his brother. Yes, this was his family. I started to gain insight into this situation slowly. Suddenly, I found my mind flooded with lustful thoughts about his sister-in-law. Ugh, I didn’t need to see that.
“The fields did not produce well this year.” The father said. Baron Aaron Bicman.
“Will we have enough for the taxes?” His wife questioned. A look of worry in her eyes. This was Isabel.
“We will be fine.” Lord Bicman replied firmly. “The fields have lost their potency. We must create more fields south and let the current ones lie fallow."
“The land south is hard, and it will take more workers than we can spare,” Brother Aaron the Second said, “we could purchase more serfs. We have the money.”
“We then have more mouths to feed, and hopefully, the fields produce enough,” Father said, looking up at his son.
“We have enough stores until the harvest comes in, and in the winter, we can put them on half rations. The older ones will die due to giving food to the younger ones.”
“No, it is still a waste of money.” Lord Bicman replied, "We can get a few more years out of the older ones if we feed them.”
That was shocking. He wasn’t worried about the lives of the people but the money he would spend buying people just to lose some anyway.
“What if you enacted a no-breeding policy? That way, the women would be able to work more next year,” Sister-in-law Martha said.
Aaron the Second snorted, and Martha glared at him. This was obviously a marriage of convenience. “We are not the Tine Barony with their large fertile lands. Our profit margins are smaller, and we need to expand. The need for workers is greater. If we stop them from breeding, not only will the men be less productive, but we will lose future manpower.”
“You should make your serfs work harder and plant new fields.” She shot back.
“They can only work so hard,” Aaron said, getting heated.
“You are probably going easy on them in exchange for favors with their women,” Martha grumbled.
Aaron's jawbone tightened, but he said nothing.
“Any thoughts, Amos,” Lord Bicman said, interrupting the argument.
I was shocked. At first, I thought the father was talking to me. I tried saying something, but nothing came out. Then the boy whose body I possessed was roused from his thoughts of female conquest and just shook his head. “I think you all have the right of it.” Of course, he had an idea, but he felt it was a dumb one that would get him ridiculed. All his ideas ended up being stupid. So, we shared the same name. That's interesting.
His father gave him a piercing look of disapproval that lasted almost ten seconds but felt like an hour. If I were in control of this body, I would have been sweating buckets under that gaze. Amos, however, just shrugged it off.
Finally, Lord Bicman nodded and turned back to his heir. “I am hesitant to do so, but I think your idea is the best. Do you have the report on the peasant villages and the mine?”
Aaron the Second nodded, “ Actually…” The vision faded, leaving me with a splitting headache.
What was that? Who were those people? I propped myself up on my elbows and noticed my body for the first time. I stared at a flabby stomach. Looking at my thick fingers, it dawned on me that I was a body snatcher! What in the name of all that is holy is going on here?
I mean, I wasn’t completely stupid. I had watched enough TV to see plenty of reincarnation plots. Well, something like reincarnation. I wasn't being born again after all. Seriously though, why would God do this to me? I was a CGI YouTuber, definitely not noble family material. I really should know not to ask the “Why” question. Answers usually were not forthcoming in that way. Answers came through action.
So, let's see what I know so far. I am in the body of the second son of Baron Aaron Bicman. I wonder if he was a first-generation noble since my older brother was Aaron the Second. We lived in a pre-industrial era. I don’t know if it is the medieval period or earlier. Heck, I didn’t know if I was even on earth. As I thought about the language, I realized it wasn’t English, but I was reading it from Amos’s mind. Was it a lost language? Was he still in the body, or had he died? I am pretty weak, and my stomach lurched every once in a while with nausea. I lay back down as that seemed to help.
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
The barony seemed to be extremely unprofitable. I wish I had heard the report on the peasant villages. Were peasants different from serfs? I couldn’t remember. Maybe the words were interchangeable here. Serfs were slaves, that much I was sure of. I had full control of their lives. Well, my father did anyway. The idea made me sick. Could I change that? I was the second son of a baron who was not well off, so probably not right now. You eat an elephant one bite at a time.
OK, what else? Oh, I can’t forget that the body I inhabited seemed to be that of a layabout. His father was disappointed in him but didn’t seem to really care enough to fix the problem. The baron had his heir, who was to be groomed for handling the barony, and that was good enough for him. Aaron the Second had his marriage arranged for him, or he had made his own decision based on a good dowry and connections. That means that I would probably have my marriage arranged and then be kicked out of the manor. In the end, it seemed like one big happy family, I thought, with a sigh. Could I change my father's opinion of me so I wasn’t forced into something awful?
Further thoughts became difficult as my stomach grumbled. I needed to get something in my stomach before anything else. A light soup would be best due to my weakened state, but anything was better than this constant gnawing in my gut. Again, I sat up. The bed I was on was pretty high up. I scooted to the edge and looked over. A small wooded nightstand with a candle on it was next to the bed. The candle was almost completely melted. Though small, the nightstand was finely made, with heavy varnish coating it. I swung my legs over the side and steadied myself.
Was I larger than in vision, or had I not been paying attention?
I held on to the small table and tried to stand up on the step stool that was positioned right below my feet. My head spun, and before I knew it I was leaning forward off balance. The tall nightstand was not sturdy enough to support me, so I and the stand tipped forward. I twisted just in time for my meaty shoulder to take the brunt of the fall, but my head still cracked against the floor. The heavy brass candle stick clattered across the floor, giving out what would have been an almost melodic sound if it weren't for the fact that my head was ringing on its own. I would have vomited, but my stomach was empty, and I only got the taste of bile in my throat for the effort. The world spun violently, and I was pretty sure I had a concussion.
Then the door opened, and I heard a high-pitched squeal followed by the pattering of slippers on stone as some poor girl fled the scene. I am sure she would be scared for life by seeing my noble noble self in his underwear. My treacherous blanket did not land on top of me as I fell.
It would be punished for its insolence later. I would request my father replace it with a proper blanket that could perform its duty of covering me with all due haste in potentially embarrassing moments. Ok Amos, focus no time for lame jokes.
Stupid jokes were a crutch to take my mind off situations I was uncomfortable in right now I needed to focus.
As I lay there thinking of various ways to get back at my blanket, I became aware of a heavier set of footsteps coming down the hall. I tried to reach for my blanket, but the throbbing in my head was too much. The voices in my new language could be heard down the hall.
“I swear it, the body is on the floor.” Said a frantic young teenage girl’s voice.
“Emily, you must be seeing things, it is…” The voice froze as the sound of his feet entered the room. “By the Endless One’s shiny bald head, the body is on the floor! How did it get on the floor.”
“I don’t know, I swear. I was passing by the room when I heard a clattering noise. I peeked in, and there it was.” the girl said.
I tried to ask for help. But it came out garbled, more like “Ehhh.”
The girl screamed. “A zombie! It will rise and devour us.”
More footsteps came down the hall to see what was going on.
“Don’t be a fool, girl. The young lord is obviously alive.”
I could almost hear the man rolling his eyes.
“But the priest pronounced him dead last night.”
I focused my thoughts and slowly groaned, “Not dead.”
“My lord,” the man said in shock, “How did you come to be on the floor?”
“Gravity,” I said in English, as the word was not one in the vocabulary of the late Lord Amos.
“Did he say gravy?” another voice said.
“Could someone please cover me,” I said in what I hoped was a coherent sentence.
“Everyone out." A new authoritative voice spoke up. "And Emily, go fetch the medical woman. It appears her efforts weren’t wasted after all.” The man said.
The once-filled room emptied, and I felt my treacherous brown blanket lying on me. I almost asked him to get me a different blanket and burn this one at the stake for its negligence, but I didn’t have the energy. Although now that I think about it, being covered in a blanket that Amos had died in last night was probably not the healthiest thing.
“Sir, I am not sure who I am addressing, but could you fetch me a different blanket? If I did indeed die in this one last night, I should like another that is not disease-ridden.” I said.
“Of course, my lord, but if I might ask. If you died last night, how are you alive this morning?” The man said.
“By the Endless One’s will, I suppose,” Using the same term for God the other man used, “Though he ought to have damned me to hell instead?”
“I see, my lord,” the man said in an uncomfortable tone. Was he uncomfortable because I had criticized myself so openly, or did he agree and not want to say it?
“I will have a servant fetch a new blanket.”
“Also, my mind seems to be somewhat muddled. May I ask to whom am I speaking?” I said. There was a long pause.
“Captain Draves, Lord Amos,” He finally said.
“Thank you, Captain. Your attention has been most welcome.”
“It is my duty, my lord. I swore to your family before you were born. One that I fulfilled under your father and one that will continue to my death.” Something bothered me about that statement, but my headache prevented me from processing it.
“A man of honor and duty is worth more than a legion of men who bend whichever way the wind blows, Captain. Thank you for your service to the House of Bicman.”
Although I could not see it, I could imagine the shocked look on the captain's face for receiving a compliment from this nuisance of a noble. Without saying a word, he got up and exited the room. A few minutes later, he returned.
When he entered, I said, “I know, Captain, that it is probably not the most dignified of things, but would you be able to help a noble of large stature and size up onto his bed?”
“Are you sure, my lord? Your behavior is quite…odd. I fear you may be concussed. I would hate to move you and make it worse.”
“You may be right, Captain, but I fear I must insist. First, however, I must have a covering of some sort. Could you fetch a maid to find me some bedware and some soup? I feel like I haven't eaten in a decade.”
“If you insist, my lord. I will be but a moment.” He swapped blankets with me and once again left the room.
I decided to roll over on my back. And stare at my lovely wooden ceiling. At that point, I noticed a small rope attached to wooden pulleys along the ceiling. I followed it to where it hung down next to the bed. Well, that is a good idea. I wish I had known a bell rope was there previously.
As my head began to clear, I thought back to the captain's words. He used the past tense when he spoke of my father. Had something happened to my father between my vision and now? Was Aaron the Second now the ruler of the house? What did that mean for me? Could he decide my fate? Did we have a good relationship? More and more questions flooded my head. I needed an escape plan.
Before I could get myself any more worked up, the Captain entered the room with an older woman with graying hair. She wore a long-sleeved white shirt and a long brown skirt. She was thin and looked like she had been accustomed to hard work. She did not look happy. "The captain has said you require assistance getting dressed."
“Dear Lady, I would not subject you to such an awful chore, but I require you to assist me in finding something comfortable to wear. I will put it on myself,” I said while trying to give her a winning smile. Watching the myriad emotions play across the aging lady's face was fun. Shock, probably that I had addressed her politely, confusion over the simplicity of the actual request, and then a glare, fortunately, that was directed at the captain.
“It seems you were mistaken, Draves.” She said curtly. Then she turned back to me and said, “Certainly, Lord Bicman.” She went to a trunk at the end of my bed and pulled out a…dress. No, it was definitely a nightgown. It in no way looked like a dress, I told myself. After handing it to the captain, she turned and bowed in my direction. “I will see to your meal.”
“I’m guessing I should avoid getting on her bad side,” I said with a smile.
“Definitely a wise course of action. She still hasn’t forgiven me for…” He trailed off while turning slightly pink. Giving an uncomfortable cough, he changed topics. “Shall we get you dressed?”
I sat up slowly. “Just hand it to me, Captain. Everyone in the manor is probably already talking about my semi-nudeness."
“But, my lord! I would never-” The captain started to say, sounding affronted.
I kicked myself mentally. Why couldn't I keep my stupid comments to myself? Actually, I knew why. One of the psychologists said that it was a coping mechanism I had developed for stressful situations.
“Forgive my humor, Captain. As you can tell, I am not quite myself. Actually, maybe I am; with my lack of memories, this may be completely normal for me.”
“Definitely not, sir.”
“Oh, what was I like,” I said casually. I had backed him into a corner.
“Sir, it would be improper for me-”
“Come on, Captain, I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
“You were more…disagreeable, my lord.” He said with a sigh.
“I knew it. I was a noble pain in the butt, wasn’t I.” I said with a laugh. Which I promptly ended due to the headache it caused.
“Sir, I-” He stammered.
“Alright, Captain, let’s get me back into bed,” I said, extending my hand. He grabbed it with one hand and put the other under my elbow. With a heave, he lifted my bulky frame off the ground and my nightshirt, yes, that is what I will call it. My nightshirt, not a gown, slid down the rest of my frame. After getting into bed, I thanked the captain. “I really think I will have to request my father give you a raise, Captain. You have gone way beyond your duty.”
The captain coughed uncomfortably. “My lord, I fear that due to your state of delirium over the past weeks, you were not made aware of your father's departure from this world.”
It was as I feared; Aaron number two was now lord of this house. I tried not to think about it. "He died of the same disease that took me?”
“Yes, my lord, it spread quickly throughout the house. Most of us got sick, but…"
“How is my mother?” faking concern, I really didn’t know these people. “Is Aaron handling things okay?”
Again, he sighed. Shifting uncomfortably, he spoke, “ My lord, I regret to inform you that Lady Isabel, Lady Matha, and Lady Margrett passed away last week. Lord Aaron the Second passed yesterday. You are now the lord of the manor."
My next thought flew out of my mouth before I could think about it. "Well, that sucks."