Captian Draves

That fool of a boy was going to get himself killed. He was just another Chosen who would die for his ideals.

I almost ran into Marsh as I exited the front door to the manor. She jumped back and looked at me in surprise.

"Sorry, Marsh," I grumbled as I stepped through the door to pass her.

"What is wrong, Charles?" She asked with concern.

I wasn't surprised she could see through my mask. She always did. "That boy is going to get himself killed."

"Lord Amos?"

"He isn't fit to be Baron. Why would the Endless One choose him?"

"Maybe because he isn't fit to be baron," She smiled.

"Marsh, this isn't funny. I am serious when I say he is going to get himself killed. He has strange ideals that others will take advantage of."

"He is seventeen. What seventeen-year-old doesn't have strange ideals? On top of that he has had no one to guide him. Personally, I am glad he is not like his father or brother. If you are concerned, then help him change."

"I am trying. He won't listen." I said while straining to keep my composure.

"Why won't he listen?"

"I don't know?" I said, my frustration leaking out.

"Then maybe you should find out. Seems to me like you can't fix a problem if you don't know what it is."

I wanted to snap back, but then I remembered what Amos had said. I was so frustrated at the time I hadn't really been listening. He said he didn't want to kill anyone else. He had killed someone before. I knew soldiers that only lasted one battle before they gave up the sword. This wasn't a battle, though. This was justice. Who had he killed that robbed him of his ability to perform his duty?

"Thank you, Marsh. I will try and help the boy."

Amos

I sat on my chair for a long time. The year before I exited my last life, I had tried to expand my business. Instead of just posting my work on the internet and hoping to pick up gigs, I wanted to have a team of people. Do large-scale CGI projects. Maybe even be part of making a full-length movie. I hired two guys to help with the work and one person to work on sales. I grew close to the guys. We did two jobs together before things fell apart. Parker, our sales guy, ended up dipping into the petty cash for personal reasons. It wasn't much, but it was a betrayal. I spent nights worrying about how to confront him. I didn't want to fire him. I knew he needed the job. He had a young family, and the economy was tough. Then I found out he was changing the contracts and pocketing a percentage. Splitting it with the purchaser for the third job. I could have prevented this by tackling the problem early and letting him go. Now, I had to confront him. I had to let him go, and I still spent all night worrying about his family. That is when I realized I could never be a proper business owner. I had trouble making the hard decisions.

I sat in the chair feeling even worse about this latest betrayal of my trust. And this one was so much more serious. I should not feel bad for what I was about to do. I should be furious. They had done this to themselves. According to the law, I could do whatever I wanted to them. Even kill them. And here I was, worried about what would happen to them when they left.

I don't know how long it was before the captain came back. But I was so deep in thought I didn't hear him enter. It wasn't until he was almost to me that I registered that someone was in the room, and I looked up. Man, if someone had been trying to assassinate me, I wouldn't have even known they were there until the knife was in my chest. And now we knew someone wanted me dead. I needed to be vigilant.

"My Lord, the priest is believed to be in Melnon. I sent a runner to bring him back. I don't think we will have him here before it is time for the evening meal. I would like to go in and interrogate the family to find out where any money may be hidden and see if we can find anything out about who might be behind the plot to assassinate you.

I snapped back to reality and slapped my forehead. That was so obvious I can't believe we hadn't already been doing that. "Sorry, Captain, I should have already asked you to do that. I just…"

"I have been thinking since I left. I apologize for my earlier frankness. It's a job you didn't expect to have. You were not trained as a noble, so you are doing what you can. In most things, I think you are doing a fine job. We will, however, want to get a steward as soon as possible. Managing the staff and reviewing all reports personally is not something a lord does."

"Then what should I be doing?"

"Well, much of Lord Aaron's time was spent training and hunting in the forest."

"Is that what is expected of a lord, or was that just what Lord Aaron liked to do?"

"Both. Lords are expected to have training in the defense of their land, especially since nobles may be challenged to a duel of honor if they cause offense. Sometimes, though, it is overlooked. I recommend a lot of training or getting someone to teach you all the niceties of court etiquette."

"Not to get off topic, but where does etiquette training come from?"

"Your mother taught it to you, or rather the former you, but Lord Amos tried to be the exact opposite of his brother. Hence, even if Amos were still here, I doubt he would have survived in court. In some noble houses, the child's governess is responsible for the education of the child."

"So if I got a governess for Aaron, I could learn from her. I would just need to find a governess crazy enough to move out here."

"If you had enough money, anyone would. You say that your new parchment will be successful. Maybe that will be the key."

"Have you ever seen the paper?" I asked.

"No, my lord, I have not."

"Let's go check it out. I need a distraction," I said, hopping up and hurrying out of the room.

The stack of paper had grown, and more was laid out in its place. When did Emily have time? Oh well. Those girls were doing great. I handed Draves a sheet, and he inspected it. He held it up, bent it, and nodded. "I had my doubts when you first started this project, but I believe this will sell well."

Then, I realized something that I had not yet done. I grabbed a piece of paper and started to fold it. I will let you know that being a bedbound patient in a hospital whose drawings did not always turn out to my liking made me an excellent paper airplane maker. What else are you supposed to do with failed drawings? Crumple them up? What a waste. So, I quickly made a paper airplane and tossed it across the room. It flew beautifully straight, hitting the far wall and crumpling the nose. I got the rare look of surprise from Draves. He walked over and picked up the plane. Turning it every which way in his hands.

"Where did you come up with this?" He said.

"It is something from where I lived before. Paper will become so cheap in the future that every kid will be able to afford paper and make these. Give it a try," I said with a smile.

His did not go as straight as mine and ended up on the ground after a few feet. "I should have had you straighten the nose first. Don't worry, it takes practice," I said. Then I had a thought, "Let's go down to the village. The kids will love to try this."

"You're going to let the kids in the village play with paper?" He said.

"I told you, Draves. This will become a cheap commodity. Now come on, captain. I can't wait to see the look on the kids' faces."

We made it down to the village, where the younger children were playing ball again while the older ones were doing chores. I gave a high-pitched whistle as loudly as I could, interrupting the game and getting all the kids' attention as well as the nearby adults'. I then gently threw the plane further down the road. It flew smoothly for a good distance before gliding to the ground. I heard a few gasps and some excited shouts from the children. I walked over and picked up the plane. Holding it up high, I asked who wanted to try. There was a stunted silence for a moment before a few of the brave ones started moving forward. Suddenly, the dam burst, and all the children came rushing over.

I had them stand in line, and for the next twenty minutes, I taught them how to throw the airplane properly. The kid at the front of the line would throw the airplane, retrieve it, and bring it back to the next kid. The adults nearby slowly made their way over, and although I encouraged them to try, only a few accepted the offer. At one point, I saw Mathew sitting nearby and made a note to myself to make Jacklyn one to bring home to him.

After a while, I explained to the kids that it would eventually wear out, and when it did, I would make them a new one. I had already straightened the nose a few times. After we finished with the children, I decided to visit Mikel. When we arrived, I was actually surprised to find him gone. His wife said he was out in the fields trying out the new plow. Without me! Draves and I rushed to the nearest field as fast as we could. Unfortunately, I found out it was not the near field they were trying it out on. That made sense since the nearest ones had already been plowed. As I approached, I saw Mikel and Jorb there talking. A group of farmers were out in the field studying the plow as it moved along. Halfway through the furrow, the farmers switched. I almost laughed as I realized the farmers were taking a turn with the new plow as it trailed behind the ox.

I moved up behind the two men at the edge of the field and shouted, "Caught'cha!"

Both men jumped.

"Using the plow without even waiting for me. I see how it is."

"My lord, we um… you see, we did go up to the manor, but they said you were busy. We decided to test it and let you know." Mikel said

I held up my hand. "It's alright. I am glad you took the initiative. If everybody waited around for my permission. Nothing would ever get done. So how is it working out?"

"It looks fine, but the farmers would know more," Jorb said.

"Captain, call over the farmers who are just standing around. I want their opinion."

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He nodded and gathered the farmers back to me. "So what is your assessment, men?"

"It is wonderful, my lord!"

"You are a genius!"

The compliments kept coming, and I felt really good until I noticed one guy standing off to the side. "You, what is your name?" I said, pointing to the young man.

"Me, My Lord?" the young man said nervously.

I nodded, and suddenly, everyone was nervous.

"Jonathan, my lord."

"Well, John, you have a different opinion than the rest of these men. I would like to hear it." I said encouragingly. At least, I thought I had said it encouragingly.

"I am sorry I did not praise your glorious invention, My Lord. It is, of course, magnificent, and there is no way to improve upon it."

"Ha! You all already figured out a way to make a change that might improve it. Great, tell me what it is."

"But, My Lord, I said…"

"Oh, do shut up, John. If I wanted to have smoke blown up my butt, I would go find myself a courtier. I want you all to tell me what would make this better. You are the farmers, not me."

Another farmer spoke up, "My Lord, it truly is a marvelous invention. It cuts deeper than the standard plow, and the way it churns the soil is excellent. It also only needs one pass to make a furrow, which means we can cut the plowing time by half."

"Again, thank you, but how can we improve it."

"Well, the wing plow —that's what we are calling it, My Lord. You may name it whatever you want. Anyways, if we made it just a bit narrower and put a straight blade in front, it might cause it to cut through the dirt better."

"A blade in front?"

"Yes, you see, we were thinking, what if there was a thin blade that went before the plow to make a cut in the dirt? It might make it easier to churn."

"Would that make it faster?"

"We were thinking it would make it easier to pull, My Lord. The oxen can only go so fast."

"Why not use horses? Can't they go faster?"

"Normally, horses are faster, My Lord, but with the heavier load, the harness chokes the horses. Also, their hooves become damaged quicker in the soft soil even with the leather shoes."

There were two things in what he said that didn't make sense. First, the harness. I looked at the oxen and saw the harness they were using. It wasn't like the harness I had seen horses use. Did they use similar ones for horses? When Nate and I were younger, we used to go to Grandpa Griffin's house, and he had a whole bunch of farm stuff decorating his house. One of the things he had on his garage wall was a horse harness. It was circular and had two knobs up top. The only reason I really remembered what it looked like was that we had managed to get the heavy thing off the wall. Each of us was trying to outdo the other by seeing how long we could hang it around our necks without collapsing to the ground. I had him pose while I drew a cartoon picture of him wearing the horse harness. I gave him a horse's body, of course. I found the picture tucked away in his stuff after he died. I will never forget that horse harness. And maybe that type of harness made all the difference.

The second was the mention of the leather shoes. I had seen the boots they tied around the horse hooves but thought they were ornamental. What if…

"Why not use metal horseshoes?"

Everyone looked at me like I was crazy. "Beg'n your pardon, My Lord, but I believe they might be too heavy."

They didn't have horseshoes? What type of crazy medieval world was I living in? I thought all blacksmiths made horseshoes. That was like the signature theme of what a blacksmith did, right?

"Horseshoes only go on the bottom of the horse's feet and are nailed into the hoof. I have some pictures to draw when I get back to the manor. Jorb, figure out with these guys what they need to get that blade attached. Also, you two gentlemen are going to start needing to make as many of these plows as we can. Get the other carpenters and blacksmiths involved. We are running out of time to get things planted. Even if we can get four more of these, that would be great. Congratulations on inventing the Jorb-Mikel plow, guys. Your invention will change the world."

"But, My Lord, it was your idea," Jorb said.

"Well, I certainly couldn't have made it. I am already famous for being a baron. It is much better if you two are the creators. That is what we will tell the history books. Jorb, your family is going to be doubly famous with your daughter helping to invent paper."

"But…"

"No arguments. I will be writing a history of this barony, not you. So even if you go around telling everyone it was all me, they will just think you were trying to earn my favor. Trust me, nobody would believe that a baron would give credit to a freeman if it actually belonged to himself." I seriously wanted to stick my tongue out to emphasize the point but restrained myself.

Let's go back to the manor. Walking through town, I saw the kids still playing with the paper airplane. Some had left, and some new ones had joined, but they were still taking turns. It looked like it had turned into a contest with lines drawn in the dirt. I was in a hurry to get back and draw out my horse harness and the shoes.

With the Bicman pen and nice paper, things went a lot better. I even grabbed a piece of charcoal and started to shade the harness, getting several views at different angles. The horseshoes again were drawn from different perspectives, as well as a close-up of one of them attached to the underside of a hoof. When I was finished, I called for the captain to have the designs run down to Mikel and Jorb. Mikel, for his part, would have to get with our leatherworker. What was his name? Dang, I forgot. I would have to ask.

The captain came in with the priest on his heels. I greeted them both and explained to the captain what I needed. He left to go find someone to run the errand. "So, I suppose you have heard the news?" I asked the priest.

"Both the gossip and the truth." He said with a smile.

"Gossip."

"You can't lock up three people in their rooms with a guard posted at their door and not have gossip exploding from everyone's mouths."

"What's the gossip?" I asked.

"Too numerous. Some are close to the truth. Spying, theft, and murder."

"They are not accused of murder," I said sharply.

"I didn't say they were, at least not by you. But the other things are more radical. You got Carrie pregnant. You got Patricia pregnant. Incest. Why do those always get added to the mix? Anyways, worshiping evil spirits. Summoning evil spirits. The captain briefed me on the version you will be telling of the events—or rather me. Don't worry; I have them written down."

He showed me, and everything looked good. I made some slight modifications to the wording, but after that, I said, "Would you like to join me for dinner, priest?"

"Certainly."

We went to the dining hall, where food was placed before me: Ham, boiled eggs, bread, and cheese. I took a look at the food and pushed it away. I couldn't think about eating right now. After dinner, I would have to pronounce judgment. Unfortunately, as soon as I pushed my food away, it was taken as a cue. A kitchen help came and picked up my food, and the priest started shoveling his down as fast as he could. Oops. "Please save that plate. I may want something later." The lady nodded and walked back to the kitchen. Soon tables started being moved to the side while the benches were rearranged. People from the village started coming in, and I even saw some from Melnon. Apparently, the hurried departure of the priest had not gone unnoticed, and people were eager for gossip.

Finally, the family was brought in escorted by two guards. Hyrum was not one of them. He stood at the back of the room. I stayed seated as the family knelt before me. The priest stepped forward. "Patricia Steward, Carrie Steward, and Marcus Steward, you are brought before the lord accused of wilfully withholding information about the plot against the House of Bicman. Your husband and father was a spy and a thief. The sum of six golden crowns, twenty-one half crowns, eighteen silver crowns, and one hundred and fifty-nine copper pennies. These were found in various hiding places in the study." This actually caused the family's eyes to go wide. Marcus looked angry. And why not? His father had confessed to murder but not told them of the location of hidden wealth. To be fair to the scumbag, from my understanding, the illness was not pleasant, and by the time people realized they had it, many were delirious. I was surprised as well. That was a lot of money for this barony.

"Although your father received a salary and may have saved some money, this does not account for the wealth stored in the secret compartments. According to your own testimony, your father was receiving bribes and shaving small amounts of money off the already meager income of this barony. Although your guilt is clear, the baron has asked that I graciously allow you to speak in defense of your actions and Ronald's actions. Do you have anything to say?

All three kept their heads down and said nothing. And after it was clear they had nothing to say, he turned to me. "My Lord, the charges have been read. They have not refuted the claims. You may now pass judgment."

"It grieves me to see the lives of any of the people I have responsibility for be destroyed, especially due to the greed of another. Through an examination of events, we have concluded that only Patricia was the only one who knew of the spying on the house until Ronald was dying. Patrica, you are also a conspirator in the theft of money from the barony. Marcus, you are also found to have foreknowledge of the theft. Carrie, it appears that your only crime was to have been born into a family of thieves, as your family did not trust you with their secret betrayal. As ridiculous as it seems to me, this is also justification under the law for me to execute you along with your family.

"However, I am a man who believes in justice. Without justice, we become a lawless society. Therefore, a punishment must be given. Many nobles would use this as an excuse to kill your family and set an example to other would-be thieves. Nevertheless, I believe that punishment must fit the crime but not exceed it. So your lives will be spared. Patricia, for your crimes, you will be stripped of your status as a freeman and be branded a serf and sold; Marcus, your sentence is likewise to that effect.

"Carrie, you found out about this information upon your father's death, and although you may have withheld the information out of fear, your guilt persuaded you to confess the crimes of your family to me personally. So, for the crime of withholding the information, you are branded as a serf, and for the service to the House of Bicman, I elevate you to the status of a peasant. Although you will not be sold as a serf, I will move you to a different barony as is proper. Unless someone is willing to vouch for your character and take you into their home."

I paused and waited. I looked around the room, meeting Hyrum's eyes for any indication that he had forgiven her. His face was as hard as the captain's. It hurt to see the normally cheerful man in so much pain that he had to hide it behind a mask.

"Please, my lord, do not do this to my daughter!"

What the heck? Did she seriously want her daughter to be a serf rather than a peasant?

"You speak out of turn, woman. Be silent!" a guard said, "How dare you interrupt His Lordship after the mercy he has bestowed upon you."

A murmur began to run through the crowd, and I raised my hand to silence them before things got out of hand. "Explain yourself, Patricia."

"My Lord, I know you are doing this for my daughter out of the kindness of your heart. You are the most merciful lord this kingdom has ever had. I fear that if you send her away without anyone to protect her, she will be raped, robbed, and possibly murdered." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the captain nod and also saw Hyrum across the room. He did not look pleased. "Knowing your generous character, my lord, you may be tempted to give her money to help her, but it will do nothing but make her fate worse as she will be a target for theft and abuse. You are the only man I would trust to protect her. Any other baron would not even bat an eye for the welfare of his peasants and serfs. Please do not abandon her in another barony."

"Do you not think it would be difficult for her to stay here? Don't you worry that she will be mistreated for the crimes of your husband against the barony and her bing a member of your family?"

"You will protect her against any reprisal. Your people will follow your lead in how she is treated."

She was right, of course. How could I abandon Carrie in another barony? I'm sure I would have thought of this as I was about to send her packing. At least, I hope I would. I sat there for a minute, gathering my thoughts. Looking over the audience, my eyes met with the widow Maggie, the area's medicine woman. More like an herbalist/midwife, in my opinion. She was in her late thirties and had been barren her entire life. Not able to bear children, the healer at Decmoore who had married her abandoned her. She wandered to Alfer, where my father heard of her and employed her. An idea struck me.

"Carrie, the widow Maggie will take you in and train you in her duties. Maggie will be paid for her time training you."

Maggie, who had been starting to frown, suddenly smoothed out her expression.

"You will do everything she asks and more or be banished from the barony. You will attend schooling here, and when I feel your education is adequate, you will repay me by writing down what Maggie has taught you."

"Patricia, you and your son will be confined to your room, and a guard will be posted outside. You will be allowed to leave your room but only under guard. This is my decree." I stood and exited the hall.

Going to my room, I sat down in my chair and pulled out a piece of paper. I began to write down my feelings. I found this exercise on a stress management blog. It helped me to relieve all the built-up tension I was feeling. I wrote down the events of the day, both the discovery of the betrayal and the moral dilemma of what to sentence the family with. I even wrote about the successes of the day. The plow and how amazingly it worked. Then, the sentencing of the family. Even with this, I felt it was going to be a long, sleepless night.