"Ah, Captin Draves, my good man! How are you this fine… where are we at in the day?" I said in the most cheerful voice I could.

"Two bells past noon, my lord," Draves said in a tone opposite to mine, completely void of emotion.

"I see."

I really didn't, though. Were bells like hours or every couple of hours? What was the standard measurement of time? I would figure that out from observation, I suppose. Right now, I have a more pressing question.

"Captian, how old am I?"

"Seventeen as of last month."

"Wow! What did I get for my birthday?" I said curiously.

"Get for your birthday, my lord?" Draves said in a confused tone.

"You know, presents, gifts, that sort of thing," I said.

"You were not baron at the time."

"You have got to be kidding me?! Are you saying only the baron gets presents on their birthday? What a ripoff," I laughed, "Well, no point in dwelling on the past. We will move forward and spur the economy by introducing presents for everyone on their birthday. Ok, next, the reports. Have you got anything for me?"

I was only half joking. I didn't know what I was going to do yet, but if I stuck around here, I had to learn how to improve this place. Now I wish I had taken a course on feudal economics.

"Marcus is gathering the papers from the Master Steward's study as we speak." If I didn't need Draves so badly, I would be trying to get under this guy's skin. He was just so stiff.

"Good. While we wait, let's go over what your duties are."

"I am responsible for the safety of all your territories and training your men. Most of my time is focused on guarding your person, but I visit each village."

"I look forward to meeting those in charge of my safety. Should I ring this bell thing, or could you let the kitchen know I would like some… broth." They don't raise chickens here! I knew this because I had the word for duck, goose, and quail but nothing for chicken. "The soup and wine did not sit well with me this morning."

"I can let the cook know if you have nothing else to discuss."

"What type of bird do we get our eggs for cooking from?"

"The kayver and the goose, Lord, would you also like some eggs?" Draves asked. I think he was over the shock of me asking odd questions. Well, hopefully. Let's try another.

"Are you familiar with a people called Romans?"

"No, my lord."

I should have realized as much because of the fact that the name came out in English, not whatever language they spoke here so that eliminated kingdoms that were born from the Roman Empire. Was it pre-Roman, or was this truly a different world? Or maybe it was an alternate earth? It dawned on me that none of the countries or civilizations I knew of translated into this language.

Also, the Endless One was mentioned. I had never heard of that god on earth. But he seemed like a convenient god for me to blame for my current situation. I mean, seriously, I was at least 50% sure I was not going to some version of Hell. If I went to paradise, I was pretty sure there would be beaches there, and I had been looking forward to learning to surf, especially if the surf instructor was some hot angel.

I had forgotten about Draves until he looked like he was about to leave. But then stopped halfway to the door and shifted uncomfortably. "My lord, I find myself at a loss as to what to do. Not only have you lost your memory, but also you are acting like a completely different person. I fear I must, in good faith, call upon the priest to check if an evil spirit has possessed you. The problem is that I gave you my word that I would not tell anyone you lost your memory, and I will not break my word."

I knew I wouldn't get away with this. These people were not idiots. I could have tried harder and maybe I would have lasted longer but I gave myself a week at most before all the inconsistencies in mannerrisms made it impossible for people to ignore. In a way I am glad I didn't stress over it. But I was also shocked. Not that he wanted a priest to check me out, but that he was asking permission. This man was worth his weight in gold—a true man of honor with no deceit. Unless... Unless he was asking so that he could confirm it without even calling a priest. If I refused to let him call a priest then he would just assume I was hiding something. Releasing him was the only way I saw to throw off suspission.

"Captain Draves, you are frankly the best of men. If all men were like you, I don't think there would be a need for any man to wear a sword. I release you from your oath towards me in any situation that may put your integrity in question."

I needed this guy on my side and making him feel good about himself couldn't hurt anything.

I continued. "However, I would prefer if you only told the priest I was acting strangely, not that I may have an evil spirit or that I lost my memory. I don't want there to be any bias when he tests me. If he determines that the Endless One deems me a threat, do what you must. I think I was on my way to go surfing when this whole memory loss thing happened anyway."

For a moment, he just sat there, very confused. I am pretty sure he thought I was insane. "Thank you, my lord. We will have the priest come after you meet with Marcus," he said with a bow and left the room.

Well, crap! I hope the priest is not the type that would call me out for my odd behavior. I really don't want to be burned at the stake. How will they test me anyway? Fortunately, I don't weigh as much as a duck. Well, maybe 100 ducks. Then again, I think that was witches.

There came a knock at the door.

"Please come in," I said.

A guard I didn't recognize swung open the door, and a young man with sandy brown hair and a wiry frame came in carrying a stack of papers. He seemed to be slightly younger than me. As he approached the bed, I noticed that he kept his expression blank. His eyes showed an emotion, but I couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. Was it grief or anger? His father had just died, hadn't he?

"Marcus, thank you for coming. First, my condolences to you and your family concerning your father's death. How is your mother doing?"

This almost caused the mask to crack, but he recovered quickly. "As best as can be expected, my lord, thank you for your concern."

His words did not match his expression. I hoped we would get along, but I had my doubts. "Marcus, I fear that I have been negligent under my father's rule and do not know the people in my house well enough. What is it that your mother does in the manor?"

At this point, his eyes hardened. Oops, I guess that was the wrong thing to say. However, it did give me insight into how he felt about me. He really didn't like me.

"She is a gardener on your estate and helps in the kitchen." He said sharply.

"I see." I decided not to ask if he had any siblings. I had already dug myself into a hole. I didn't need to dig any deeper. I mean, what if he had a sister like everyone else around here? He would probably think I wanted her to give me a bath or something. Reputations can suck sometimes. "I know there is nothing I can do to fill the void that the loss of a loved one brings, but I want to assure you that I will try to make sure your family's needs are met."

This got me a brief look of surprise from him. "Such generosity is not necessary, my lord."

"We will have to agree to disagree on that. Right now, I am sure you would like to set down those reports. Why don't you set those on the nightstand."

He did as I asked, and I pulled off the first paper in the stack. Except it wasn't paper; I think it was parchment. The handwriting on it was very neat and legible. Did they have dip pens here, or were they still using quills? I used to sign my artwork with a dip pen. I thought it was cool, but it wasn't easy to get just the right amount of ink on the canvas to make my calligraphy legible. I had even taken an online class to do illustrations with it before I got into graphic design on my PC.

Ok, Amos, back on track.

"Very nice writing. Is this your work or your father's?"

"It was his," Marcus answered flatly.

"I understand you were training to take his place. Do you know how to read and do your numbers?"

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"Yes, my lord."

"Excellent, let's go over these." To say I was disappointed with the accounting system was an understatement. Everything was on one page with one column for everything. It was hard to wrap my head around things because the numbering system was different from what I was familiar with. Also, they had not invented the zero as a placeholder yet. It was a toss-up between this and Common Core math regarding which one I hated more. I wanted him to fetch me an abacus or something like that, but apparently, that wasn't a thing here. I was definitely going to have someone make a Chinese abacus like the one I played with as a child at Grandma's house. She had made fun games out of it to help me learn addition and subtraction.

What was even more depressing was the results. Harvest last year hadn't been any better than the year before. And the serfs were on tight rations until the next harvest came in. What was worse was that I learned we were behind on our spring planting due to the illness that had taken the village by surprise. I wondered if I could send some of my soldiers out to help. If I could get out there to help, then they would have to be out there anyways. Unfortunately, my body at the moment could not handle a lot of moving around and exercising. Should I be worried about my dignity or what the gossip would be? Captain Draves was already bringing in a priest to check if I was possessed. Next, I would probably receive a visit from a psychiatrist. He would probably give me a lobotomy and be done with it.

I didn't want to do what I was about to do. I didn't like Marcus. Nevertheless, I had no choice. "Marcus, I would like you to continue as a steward for the house. I will pay you half what your father made for the first three months. Once you are master steward, I will pay you the same as your father."

After an initial look of shock, he responded with a nod.

"Excellent; I will expect daily reports from you even if you only let me know nothing has changed."

"As you wish, my lord."

"Thank you, Marcus. Please return these reports to the study."

He bowed, grabbed the stack of reports, and left.

Alright, next up: inquisition time. How do I convince him not to burn me at the stake? Maybe I can bribe him. Just then, a knock came at my door. Well, here goes nothing, I thought.

"Come in."

It was not a priest or the captain. It was Marsh coming with my broth. I let out a sigh of relief.

"I am sorry for the delay, my lord. The captain told me to wait until you were finished."

I gave a wave of my hand. "It's fine; I thought you were the priest."

"You requested the priest, my lord," Marsh said in surprise as she set the tray in front of me.

“No,” I sighed, “Draves did. He thought my odd behavior might indicate I am possessed."

"Really?"

I raised one eyebrow to show I wasn't buying the shock. "That was terrible. I give you a 1 out of 10 for your acting skills."

"My lord?" She said, clearly not understanding my meaning.

"I mean, on a scale of one to ten, one being the worst and ten being the best, I give you a one in acting for your poor performance in pretending like you have no idea what I am talking about. I know you spoke with Captain Draves outside my room after the whole debacle where you accused me of trying to molest your maids."

"I-" she stammered and blushed.

Interrupting her, I continued. "I didn't hear the conversation, but I did hear the captain's initial response. I imagine the conversation went something like this."

Using my best imitation of a female voice. "Captain, I just accused the baron of trying to get jiggy with one of the maids."

Jiggy, of course, didn't have a meaning in their language, but I am sure she got the drift.

Then, using a deeper male voice, I said, "You what?"

"Well, I was wrong. The baron is a great guy. He didn't even try and chop my head off. There must be something wrong with him."

"You're right. I'll go get the priest so we can accuse him of possession and burn him at the stake."

"That's a great idea."

"But first, because I am such an honorable man, I will go in and tell the baron we plan on killing him soon."

By this point, Marsh was as white as a sheet. But by that time, I was so worked up that I wasn't paying any attention.

"It's my fault, though," I said. "If I had just had you whipped, then you would have thought everything was normal."

At that point, Marsh collapsed to the floor. "My lord, I, I, I-"

I was so caught up in the moment and my own anxiety that I didn't even realize what I had been saying to the poor lady.

Did I seriously just say I should have beaten her? What the crap Amos, get it together.

I realized I had been lying to myself when I said I was ok with dying again. I did not want to be burned at the stake.

I banged my head against the headboard in frustration. "Crap, Marshandra, I'm sorry. When I get nervous, I start to make stupid jokes. I'm really sorry. It's not your fault that I am no good at being a baron. I am just... It doesn't matter. I would never beat you for being concerned about the sanity of your lord. I don't even know if I could stomach having someone beaten."

I had hurt enough people in my past life. I didn't need another debt to repay. "Please get off the floor and sit on my chair before the captain and priest come in and see you like this. Then I would have to explain to them what a big jerk I am for making a woman cry."

I didn't think she was going to move for a moment, but then she slowly lifted herself. Wiping her eyes, she got up and sat in the chair.

"See, I did make you cry," I growled in frustration.

"I, I am fine, my lord," She said quietly.

"Well, I'm not. I am sorry Marshandra.”

"Thank you, my lord."

I started to drink the broth. I thought it was beef broth, but I wasn't sure. "What type of broth is this?"

"Beef, my lord."

"It's perfect. Give my compliments to the chef."

"The who?"

"I mean whoever made it."

I sighed.

Just relax, Amos. You're not going to fit in anyway.

"Of course, my lord."

There was silence in the room until I finished my soup. It was a little awkward having her just sit there, but I ignored her as best I could. When I finished, I set the tray on the nightstand. I expected Marsh to collect the dish, but she didn't move. When I looked at her, she was staring right back at me with pursed lips as if examining an odd creature and didn't know what to make of it. Finally, she spoke.

"Are you truly Lord Amos Bicman?" She said suddenly. Well, there's no beating around the bush there.

I looked down at myself. "As disappointing as it may be, I am afraid I am." I lied. Just because I didn't think I could keep this charade going didn't mean I was going out myself intentionally.

"You don't act like yourself," she said with slight frustration in her voice.

I shrugged, "I know."

More silence.

"Why do you call me Marshandra?" She asked.

Oh crap, that is her name, right? I distinctly remember the captain saying Marshandra.

"Because that's your name?" I said questioningly.

"Up until today, you have always called me Marsh."

"I like Marshandra better. It is a nice name." I said offhandedly, trying to give the impression that I had the right to change my opinion whenever I wanted to.

"You used to call me Muddy Marsh."

I nodded as if I remembered. "I am ashamed to think of what a terrible person I have always been."

Marsh shook her head. "Not always, my lord," She said softly. "I remember a very bright little boy full of life. He was a handful, always getting into everything. I swear he was the cause of much of the grey hair in the manor. How often I have wished for that young boy back." She said with emotion. The stern woman I had met this morning was gone, replaced by a woman who was grieving for the loss of a child that wasn't even hers.

It was heartbreaking to hear. Her voice was that of a mother who had lost her child. I just sat there silently. What could I say? I couldn't bring back the little boy she was hoping for. I would have choked up if I had tried to answer her back. So we sat there, both lost in our thoughts.

As my thoughts wandered, the heavy knock of Captain Draves came at the door. Marsh went pale. "I am sorry, my lord, I shouldn't have-"

I silenced her with the raise of my hand. "It was bound to happen. The captain couldn't, in good conscience, keep this from the church. It is in the Endless One's hands. Have faith. Come in."

The captain and a stately man in straight, undyed robes walked in. He glanced at Marsh, "Ma'am, this is a private meeting, and I must ask you to leave."

Marsh stood to leave, but I stopped her. "Marsh stays. She has my trust and deserves to hear what is spoken here."

All three people looked at me with surprise, but the priest nodded, and Marsh resumed her seat. The priest's face was somber as he walked up to me. "Lord Bicman, Captain Draves has informed me that you have acted outside your normal behavior and appear to have lost much of your memories."

I glanced over at Marsh and saw her eyebrows raise in surprise. Well, I guess the cat is out of the bag now. Thanks a lot, Draves. Technically, I gave him permission to spill the beans, but did he have to bring up the memory thing?

"That's the word on the street. Ok, not really the word on the street. Only you three should know about it." I saw Marsh's lips turn down into a frown of disapproval. Crap, did Marsh think she had the right to mother me now that we had our heart-to-heart? I am in so much trouble. The priest, however, didn't react.

"He also informed me that you have given your permission to have me check for any signs of possession."

"Yes."

"Very well," He said, and without any further explanation, he placed the ring and middle finger of his left hand on my forehead. "I call forth any spirit that has possessed this body to depart." I felt a slight tingle in my skull, so small I might have imagined it. There was a tugging on my mind as if it were trying to be forcefully removed from my body. It left as quickly as it came, and then, in a surprised voice, the priest said, "A pronouncement: A life lost, a new life given. Go forth and be a light in the darkness."

I looked at the priest in shock.

"Well, that's a first." the priest said with a smile.