It had only been twenty-four hours since the hearing that sent the whole of Vaspar into an uproar. Mathew had rushed off to Decmoore to stay ahead of the gossip that was spreading through Vaspar like wildfire. If Decmoore could silence enough people before Mathew uncovered the truth, Tanya would die. Now, I sat in a chair in the center of Count Vaspar's office. At the far end of the room, Vaspar sat at a table with a few rolls of parchment and an inkwell on it. He was rolling a Bicman Pen back and forth between his fingers. He took is eyes off the pen to look at me. His stare was intense, and it made me want to squirm. We both sat silently until he finally said, "I am trying to decide if you are really a Kayver who lays golden eggs or just a very lucky idiot."

This guy was nothing if not blunt. At least with those he had power over. Trying to break the tension and falling back on my bad habit of making light of things in uncomfortable situations, I said, "Is it impossible for me to be both."

The count raised his eyebrows, and I could swear the corners of his mouth twitched. "That is something I will have to consider. The reason I brought you to Vaspar was to judge your character and decide whether or not I should give you my favor or throw you to the wolves. After Mathew's report and your performance at the dinner gathering, I felt you were level-headed enough to support."

Something clicked. "The dinner was a setup," I said without thinking.

"That comment there shows your naivety. Of course, it was set up. A noble must always be evaluating those beneath him. Those I selected played their parts well. Though I could not hear your conversation, Baron Kithmoore said you maintained decorum even amidst ridicule. Your manner of speaking, however, was a little base, but that was to be expected of a Marsh-Dweller."

"Were they all in on it?"

"Only a few, and two of them were only there to observe."

"I see. So what type of support are we talking about?" I asked curiously.

"None," he said flatly, "If that had been the end of things, I would have shown you some small amount of favor. Nothing that would block another assassination attempt, but enough to keep some of the smaller nuisances from causing you trouble. But then you fell so easily into Baron Decmoore's trap that I realized you would be nothing more than a liability. Then the question became whether I strip you of your barony or execute you. I decided that striping you of your title may be better for you than having you get yourself into any more trouble. Then you could continue to invent things, and it may even save your life.

"Then suddenly, that girl involved herself, and I was forced to give you the opportunity to keep the barony. The people would not let this scandal go uninvestigated, and the news would eventually reach the duke or the king. I need to have a satisfactory answer as to what I did to investigate the matter."

"So, you don't care about the fact that they lied in court and almost got me stripped of my title or the fact that they broke the law by concealing an illegitimate child? You only care about the fact that it caused a scandal."

"This is why you are not fit to hold your title. You have no clue how the world works. Everyone lies. It is whether or not they get caught that matters. The reason to uncover a lie is to find out how to use it against the person who told it. It was evident from the start that it was a setup, but what would I gain from revealing it? The commoners wouldn't care about your fate. Amidst the nobles, you are a nobody. Decmoore has backers you do not.

Your second point is also laughable. If I tried to dig up every scandal caused by my nobles, I would be doing nothing else all day. And I would need a hundred people like Mathew. Do you think Baron Decmoore is the only person who breaks the Bastard Laws? Do you think that his son is the only one to sleep with someone he shouldn't have? I can name a dozen nobles I have enough information on to strip them of their titles. I know a hundred more that might be breaking the law if I care enough to dig deeper. The fact is, boy, I don't care. Not as long as they don't steal too much, don't go too far, and keep it discrete. That is the reality of things."

I sat there stunned, and Count Vaspar seemed happy to let it all sink in.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"There are a few reasons: First, I am a good judge of character and know that you would not spread such information around. Second, you would lose your tongue if I found out you were spreading this around. Third, I think you will come to realize I am trying to help you. You will never be a good baron, and I recommend you leave it to someone else."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, "I can't. And like you, I also have a few reasons. First and foremost, it is not my barony to give away. The heir to the barony is my nephew, and I am doing my best to ensure he receives what is rightfully his. Second, because I do not know who would replace me and whether they would treat the people of the barony with kindness, there seems to be a lot of prejudice against the area, and anyone given the barony may view it as a punishment. Their anger over having to be there would be taken out on my people. Third, unlike you, I think I can help bring changes to the kingdom that will improve the lives of everyone. Changes that cannot be made without a diverse group of people to work with."

The count's eyes bore into me, trying to see if I believed my own words. Finally, he gave a slight nod, "You are not out of the woods yet. Mathew may not find enough information on the priestess's origins to charge Decmoore with anything. In that case, we are back to you losing your land and the girl losing her head."

"But she was brought there by divine guidance. The priest said it himself. We both know the baron is guilty. Can't you show leniency?"

"He said he was encouraged to bring her. He never said who encouraged him to do it. I believe he phrased it that way to protect her and make it seem like divine guidance. I think he did know her origins and was playing his own game. Never underestimate the craftiness of priests. I am sorry, but I did give her a chance to take back her words. Her fate was her own choice."

He paused momentarily but then changed subjects, "Now let us discuss other matters. It should take Mathew no more than fifteen days to get back, sooner if everything goes well. Let us discuss what happens if Decmoore is found guilty. The charges will be false accusations of theft and besmirching your name. Of course, false testifying in court will be something I will deal with separately.

"You could request the death sentence since not only was it a false accusation, but it was also done by setting a trap for you and deliberately trying to steal your lands, but that would have to go through the duke, and since Decmoore influences the Ducal Court I don't think you will get it. In fact doing that may cause one of his backers to convince the duke to kill you as well. He does like finding reasons to kill people. The best you can hope for is that Baron Decmoore's friends will distance themselves from him after this all comes to light.

"However, you must not appear weak. If you were anyone else, I would suggest requesting to be given the lands of Pollman, but I don't think you could handle more land. No, I believe monetary compensation will be better. Let's say five times the annual income of the Pollman lands. If I am thinking about that correctly, it may be between one hundred and two hundred Gold Crowns a year."

"That's a lot of money. Can he afford it," I said in shock.

The count looked like he wanted to sigh. "Again, you show your ignorance. That is nothing. Pollman's lands are better than yours but certainly not the best. If I gave you the income for all of Baron Decmoore's lands for a year, you could live a very long life in luxury out in your swamp. I will have Casper figure out the exact amount. He is enjoying the abacus, by the way. It is a very intriguing device."

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Wait, Mathew took an abacus?" I said in shock.

My alarm caused the stone-faced man to actually smile.

I sighed, "I don't know why I am surprised. That man of yours ferreted out all of my people's inventions. So much money gone. I promised my people their inventions would bring them a lot of money."

"Do not try and fool me, Boy. Your people invented none of those things. You are the creative genius behind it all. That much Mathew did figure out. Don't think that I am so stupid as to believe that as soon as your family died, your people suddenly became more intelligent. You were just waiting until you were married off in order to implement your idea."

I shrugged, "They all helped. I couldn't have done it without them. I promised them they would earn money from these things."

"And what, did you expect to be given a Writ of Exclusivity?" he said with just a touch of mockery in his voice.

"Initially, that was my hope, but I realized it was just wishful thinking. It became especially apparent when I came to your town. Writs of Exclusivity are not for barons like me. They are for people of influence. Someone who is in the center of things: Why would you tell your subjects they have to purchase easily produced goods from some backwater barony? Or even maintain a record and give me a percentage of the profits. It would limit the production, which would reduce taxes. Also, who is going to enforce it? I couldn't afford to pay the king enough to enforce it, and it would just create a black market for them."

Now, the count was staring at me curiously. Leaning forward, he said, "A percentage of the profits for the right to use the product?"

I could tell he was making it a question, not a statement. "Yes, I don't know if it could be enacted on a large scale, but I thought of implementing it in my barony as it grows. An individual comes up with an idea and writes down every detail about how it works. He pays me a small annual fee or a large fee for up to ten years. I use those fees to hire someone to audit everyone in the barony who wants to make the same product. They have to get permission from the original owner of the design and then pay a percentage of everything they make off the product to the inventor. If the owner wants to keep it all to himself, that's fine as long as he produces enough to meet the demand. We will encourage him to use the other method if he can't. He could also sell the… Well, I call it a patent, to another person. If he doesn't want to produce it himself."

Count Vaspar stared off into space for a long time. It became awkward, and I thought, maybe, he wouldn't notice if I got up and left. I should go get something to eat.

"Perhaps you aren't such a lost cause." the count said matter-of-factly.

"Thank you," I said with a smile.

"I will give you five silver Crowns for each of the inventions that came from your estate," he said as if that were even remotely fair.

"I was told you took a ride in my carriage this morning while I locked in my room. I hear that you were very impressed."

"There are too many loose lips around this place," the count muttered. "What do you want?"

"Thirty gold for everything. You could make a killing off of these things."

"What would I do with it? I am just rewarding you for your creative mind."

"You could set up a patent system with you owning all of the patents on my inventions. Even if you got a copper per horseshoe, you could make a good profit, not even to mention the leaf spring. And it is all profit because you don't have to pay a patent fee."

"You are a shrewd man, Lord Bicman. You put the patent idea in my mind because you saw where the conversation was going."

I smiled back at him but said nothing. Actually, that had never occurred to me, but I would certainly try to leverage it now.

"I don't have to pay you anything, you know," He said when he realized I wasn't going to respond.

"Then we are back to the question of whether or not I am a golden kayver. What is a mere thirty gold to you."

"Twenty."

"Twenty for ideas that will bring you gold on the penny. You would make thirty gold within the first year, and it would only increase as the ideas were implemented in more towns and villages," I said, looking him in the eye.

He smiled, "You are wasted as a baron. You would make more money working directly for me."

"Give me eighteen years to make sure my nephew is set to take over, and I may just take you up on that."

"Thirty gold it is. Now, speaking of golden kayver, Mathew tells me you are responsible for all the drawings in your book of fables. He also said that your ability to draw life-like images of people is impressive."

"Yes, and I couldn't help but notice that your castle is sparsely decorated, and the paintings you do have are somewhat… lacking."

That put a look of shock on Vaspar's Face, "I recommend you refrain from criticizing the art of my castle. My pieces were painted by Griffin Asput, the first cousin once removed from the King. A master painter who has perfected his art after a lifetime of study." He said coolly

I held back a snort. That last name always made me want to laugh. "My Lord, give me seven days, ten at the most, and I will make a full-length portrait of you that even the king will be jealous of."

The count looked at me dubiously. "And what would you want for this masterpiece?"

"Sixty gold crowns."

"You must consider yourself a god among painters. I will not pay such a ridiculous price for a painting by an unknown artist."

"I doubt you paid much less for what you have on your walls, but I conceded to your point. How about this? Once I complete the painting, you will pay me however much you think it is worth. Pay me nothing if you think it is not worth the canvas it was painted on."

"That I will agree to. We shall see if you live up to the praise given by Mathew."

For the next two days, I practiced mixing colors with these people's paints. It was oil-based and suited for painting on the linen fabric they used as canvases. I really would have preferred cotton and some modern paints, but I was pretty sure I could pull this off. I hadn't done any oil painting since shortly after I was cleared from the suicide risk list. One of my therapists had recommended it as a good way to cope with the trauma and guilt since it was something I had done when I was younger. Well, more like obsessed over when I was younger. If I hadn't fallen in with the guys I hung out with after Dad left, I probably would have gotten a scholarship in art. Ok, that's not fair. I had already been hanging out with them, but they were the ones who got me the drugs to deal with the pain and rejection I felt from Dad leaving us.

'OK, time to get out of my head and get to work.'

I needed to show the count I could back up what I was saying. I had scheduled a bell's worth of time with the count. It had to be done every day. Of course, the count didn't do it himself every day. I only needed his head, so for the rest, we just needed a person of similar size to do it while wearing the count's clothes. Standing in place for an hour is hard work. I must hand it to the count's nephew for his willingness to do the job.

I got to meet a lot of the people in the count's family. His wife was a stuck up snob who barely spoke two words to me, and his daughters and their husbands were all the same. His second son, Fredrick, was cool. Not as aloof as his older brother and father. He caught me doing Tai Chi on my third day there and was making fun of me for the next two days until I told him he wouldn't last a whole session doing it. That got him all riled up, and he tried to outlast me. He joined me for the next two days, trying to make his movements as smooth as mine. He then ended up bringing two cousins, three nephews, and a niece the next day. I think he was just trying to prove he was better at it than someone else. He insisted I do sword practice with him to get back at me. And he did get back at me. I lost a day of painting after I was too sore to move my arms the next morning and had several welts. We were forced into a truce after that by his father, who didn't want me to waste any more time.

Frederick was a great source of information, and I learned a lot about the running of the county as well as the different places in Vaspar. I even learned what the whole "Marsh Dwellers" thing was about. I was right. It was a slur. The funny thing is it had nothing to do with me. Apparently, the local's ancestors came from somewhere across the sea, landed in the bay, and found their way south. They were later conquered by Lenord the First. I would have to talk to the people living there and see if anyone knew where they came from. If I could build a sailing ship, maybe we could find a new place to sell goods.

I had overestimated my abilities, it was on the eleventh day of painting that Mathew returned. I was already finished with 95% of the painting and was planning to reveal it tomorrow.

'Is there a way I could work it into a showing after the trial? I would have to check with the count. It would be pretty cool if I could.'

Fortunately, I realized that I really had nothing to worry about. My abilities were far above the Master painters of this time. Of course, the best I could hope for right now was, "You are clear of all charges. Thank you for the painting. Have a nice life."