Chapter 7

“Did you have fun exploring the city today?”

I had just sat down in the private dining room, back at Balfors Castle, after washing up for dinner. Valens was looking at me inquisitively, head cocked to one side and one eyebrow raised.

“It was interesting,” I said somewhat reservedly. “Not too much to see, though, between the plague and Godsday.”

“It’s to be expected,” he said with a shrug. “Did you go by the temple like I asked?”

“I did; Healer Woad was quite interested to learn about the lice,” I confirmed somewhat defensively. “Though, she said she would need to speak with the Pontifex before they do anything with the information.”

“Disappointing, but not unexpected,” he sighed. “I suppose it was too much to ask that they believe you out of hand.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I just shrugged my shoulders.

After a moment of quiet introspection, Valens broke the silence and asked, “What else did you do in the city today?”

“I went to the market on Riverside Square and looked at the wares being offered there. Speaking of which, dinner will be a beet stew tonight; I bought the ingredients myself.”

“Really?” he asked, looking surprised. “Beet stew? I haven’t had that in years…”

“I thought it would be a nice, simple dinner.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to it,” he smiled. “Did you find anything else interesting at the market?”

“I found this,” I said, untying the leather necklace and holding it out for him.

Taking the simple pendant in hand, Valens inspected it closely. “Is this onyx?”

“No, the old lady said it was jetstone.”

“Hmm. Not the most valuable gemstone,” he frowned.

“She didn’t seem like the sort of merchant who could afford anything better,” I defended her. “She only has it because one of the orphans that she takes care of found it.”

“Found it?” he asked, dubiously.

“Yes,” I continued, ignoring the implied accusation of thievery in his tone. “And some amber, too.”

“I highly doubt that,” he shook his head. “There are no gemstone deposits anywhere in the county, even cheap ones like this.”

“Not yet,” I replied somewhat waspishly.

“If there were,” he replied with a roll of his eyes, “someone would have already started a mine.”

“Not if it was on your land,” I stubbornly insisted. “Like they claim it is.”

“If it was on my land, I would have been informed of it already,” he countered. “No, the most likely case is that the orphan boy pickpocketed someone.”

I opened my mouth to angrily counter him, but snapped my jaw shut before the words could escape. With a deep breath, I pushed down as much of my sudden anger as I could. For several long moments, I took deep breaths and kept my jaw clenched as I stared at the Count. He was intently watching my every move; there was something unsettling about his gaze.

“Perhaps that is the case,” I admitted, keeping my voice low and my tone even. “Still, if there is some truth to the boy’s claim, developing a mine would bring a lot of coin to your coffers. If he is indeed lying, like you believe he is, all you would lose is an afternoon’s ride in the countryside.”

Valens leaned back in his chair and thoughtfully stroked his beard. As I watched him think, I pushed down the rest of my anger and did my best to force myself into a more rational state of mind; I’d need the mental clarity and acuity if I was going to convince him to take action.

“Opening a mine is an expensive endeavor,” Valens sighed after several moments. “Jetstone doesn’t draw the same prices as other, more lustrous gems.”

“What about amber?”

“What about it?”

“The boy mentioned finding amber as well,” I reminded him. “Does amber draw a fair price?”

“It does, in the right markets,” he nodded. “The best markets for it are in Etrushia or Maldhea, though.”

“Then wouldn’t it bring traders from those areas to the County?”

“I suppose it would, if word was spread.”

“Then, wouldn’t developing a source of jetstone and amber be advantageous?”

“If such a deposit exists, and it is not too expensive to mine it, then yes, it would,” he sighed, exasperatedly. “But all of this is irrelevant if the boy is telling tall tales.”

“If he is lying, all we would lose is an afternoon in the countryside,” I reiterated. “If he is not, and if the deposit is worth working, then it is an opportunity that is too good to pass up.”

“You are relying on the word of an orphan boy you’ve never met, told to you by an old woman you don’t know, who was likely just trying to sell you a cheap bauble,” he angrily insisted with furrowed brows and pursed lips.

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I wanted to yell at the stubborn jackass for being so obstinate, but I bit my tongue. Perhaps he was right, and the old woman was lying to me to make a quick sale. Still, even ignoring the potential profits that a jetstone and amber mine would bring, the potential applications for coal were too useful. Maybe I would be wasting my time, but with any luck, the worst I would lose is a day or two of roaming the countryside.

“How about a wager?” I asked, an idea popping into my mind.

“On whether or not the boy is lying?” he asked.

“Yes. If he is lying, and he simply stole the gems, then you may punish me however you see fit,” I insisted, my face set in a neutral expression. “However, if he can lead us to a deposit, you will place me in charge of developing the mine.”

“Why are you so insistent on this gods damned mine?” he groaned with exasperation. “You’re acting as if someone has struck gold!”

I opened my mouth to launch into an angry tirade, but I held my tongue instead. Anger, in this situation, would likely only make things worse than they already are. Racking my brain, I tried to think of some plausible explanation; that the gemstones would increase trade, or that the work would bring more jobs to the area, or any number of other good reasons. The problem was, the gems alone weren’t enough of a lure to get him to agree. I could see that, from his reaction to the idea so far.

Telling him about coal and coal tar might get him to agree, in addition to the potential for additional jetstone and amber, but that was revealing a lot more knowledge than his daughter should realistically know. Perhaps I could explain it as yet another Selatura-granted dream, but if I kept on using that excuse, I’d end up becoming some kind of religious figure. That path was… fraught with peril.

Coal was just too useful to give up. No matter what way I looked at it, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to begin extracting it. The problem was, I couldn’t really think of a good way to explain exactly how I knew these things.

‘I suppose I’ll have to go with the truth…’ I realized, an idea starting to take form in my mind. ‘Or, at least the truth from a certain point of view…’

“... do you know what jetstone is?” I belatedly asked after several moments of silence. I held my hand out and gestured towards the necklace Valens still gripped tightly in his hand.

“A cheap gemstone used for mourning jewelry,” he rotely replied, as if reading it from a book. Still, he leaned over the table and offered the necklace to me.

“Jetstone isn’t a stone at all,” I said as I reached for one of the white linen napkins on the table. “No more than amber is, in any case.”

“Not a stone?” he skeptically asked, giving me a wry, disbelieving look.

“That’s right. I’ll show you.” Taking the jetstone in hand, I vigorously rubbed it on the white linen cloth. Everywhere it touched, it left a dark brown streak behind, staining the formerly pristine napkin.

“What are you doing?”

“Just watch,” I shushed him.

Once the napkin was sufficiently stained, both front and back, I balled the jetstone up in the stained napkin and placed it on a small earthenware plate. Next, I grabbed one of the lit wax candles from the middle of the table and held the flame to the napkin, which quickly ignited.

“Artesia!” Valens protested. “What are you doing?”

“Shush! Just watch!”

“You’re going to burn the whole castle down!”

“No, I won’t. My cup of water is right there, and there’s a pitcher over there,” I pointed out the items in turn. “If anything happens, we can put it out before it spreads. Please, just... just watch.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he grumped, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Looking up, I caught his gaze with mine. “Trust me.”

His expression wavered for a moment, and he relaxed. “Fine. Just be careful.”

“Of course. Now, look,” I said, pointing at the merrily burning cloth in front of me. “What do you see?”

“A fire,” was his laconic reply.

I rolled my eyes. “Of course it’s a fire. But, what is it burning now?”

“The cloth, obviously.”

“Are you sure?” I pointed again at the fire. Valens furrowed his brows and looked more closely.

While some scraps of the cloth had not yet burned away, the little hunk of jetstone had been ignited. A thin film of white ash partially hid glowing orange coals along much of the stone’s surface, neatly contrasting against the dark matte black of the parts not yet set alight.

“... how?” he asked, as the light from the burning jet danced in his eyes. “How is this possible?”

“I don’t know how, exactly,” I lied. Truthfully, I could go on about how jetstone was just a specific type of coal formed from trees and plants that had been buried under the earth and transformed through heat and pressure over millions of years, but I didn’t think he was ready for that kind of conversation. Not now, and likely not ever. “But I do know that it can be very useful.”

“Useful? In what way?”

“Well, the most obvious is that it can be burned,” I pointed to the still burning lump on the small earthenware plate. “It can be carved and polished into jetstone jewelry, of course, but you know that already. The most important thing, though, is that it can be rendered into a medicine that will kill lice.”

“A medicine?” he asked, sounding more than a bit incredulous. “From jetstone?”

“Do you smell that?” I asked. “That acrid smoke being given off?”

Valens took a whiff, grimaced, and nodded.

“There is a sort of tar that is held in the stone,” I explained as best as I could. It was difficult, since Pommeran didn’t have a word for coal, but at least they knew what tar was. Or rather, they knew what pitch was, which was similar enough for my purposes. “It burns when the stone is ignited, and will consume the stone as it burns. By extracting this tar, you can mix it into soap, and using the soap will kill and drive away lice.”

Valens shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where did you learn all of this?”

This was the question I had been dreading. I… was afraid of how he would react. Still, I could only hope that nothing… untoward came of this.

“I… you’ll think I’m mad,” I shyly deflected. “If I tell you, you’ll… put me in the madhouse or something.”

“No. No, I would never do that,” Valens told me quite emphatically. “Trust me. Please.”

“I… fine.” Steeling my resolve, I told him the truth. From a certain point of view. “I… when I woke up, I found that I… had memories. A whole lifetime of memories, from some other person.”

“Memories?” Valens repeated, looking confused, as if he had been expecting some other explanation.

“Yes. Just… little bits, here and there,” I lied, turning away from him and making myself as small as possible in my chair. “But… with the memories came knowledge. Things like this jetstone, and some medicines, and so much more.”

“Do you…” he began but hesitated. “Do you know where these memories came from?”

“... no,” I lied again. “Only that they were there when I woke up. As if I’d known them all along.”

“... I see.” Valens leaned back in his chair. Through my hanging bangs, I could see him carefully studying me. “Is it possible that… Selatura granted you these memories?”

“... maybe. I don’t know for sure,” I said with a shake of my head. Looking up at him, I widened my eyes and asked, “Does that… does that mean you believe me?”

“... I don’t know what to believe,” he sighed. “We shall see what the future holds.”

“Then… will you come with me, tomorrow?”

He blinked, taken aback. “Come with you? Where are you going?”

“To ask the boy to show us where he found the jetstone,” I replied. “To see if we can start a mine.”

Valens sighed and rubbed his beard with one hand. “... I suppose I can put off your lessons for one day.”

I smiled widely at him.

“Don’t think this means you’re off the hook,” he warned me with a wagging finger. “We still have a wager, remember?”

“So you’ll take the bet?” I asked, and Valens nodded. “... thank you, father.”

He tilted his head and gave me a look I couldn’t quite interpret. “Of course, daughter.”

“Are we going to go in the morning, or-” I began, but was interrupted.

“Dinner is ready, my lord, my lady,” Encina said as she swept into the room, carrying a decently sized pot in one hand and a pair of bowls in the other. A scullery maid scurried in behind her, carrying a pair of pitchers and several cups.

“I hope you…” Encina paused and took a deep whiff. “By the gods, what is that horrible smell?!”

I met Valens’ gaze, and I couldn’t quite hold in my laughter. Despite my best attempts at suppressing it, a few giggles slipped out.

“Is that… is that your napkin?!” Encina cried out, seeing the still-glowing coal surrounded by the ashes of the piece of linen. “Lady Artesia! Did you set it on fire?!”

“... yes, ma’am,” I admitted between giggles. Even Valens looked like he wanted to laugh, at least until Encina turned her ire on him.

“Lord Valens, how could you just let your daughter destroy a perfectly good napkin?” she harangued him. “That’s certainly not proper behavior for a young lady. Shame on you! Shame on you both!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” I told her with genuine regret. “It won’t happen again.”

“I should very well hope not!” With deft, if somewhat angry, motions Encina and the attending scullery maid placed the dinner on the table before us. Once finished, she grabbed the offending plate with one hand and pointed a finger at me with the other. “You’d better not spill your soup, young lady, because you’re certainly not getting another one of my napkins this evening!”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m sorry, ma’am,” I told her with all the contrition I could muster, despite my amusement at the situation.

“Yes, well…” she cleared her throat and adopted a more formal stance. “Is there anything else my lord and my lady require this evening?”

Valens glanced at me, and the corner of his lips twitched up. Adopting a serious expression, he looked right at Encina and said, “We seem to be short a napkin, my dear. Would you mind fetching me another one?”

Encina’s angry sputtering was quite amusing, and the resulting laughter dispelled the last of the tension the earlier conversation had brought. Despite the indignant lecture on proper behavior both Valens and I received, I would admit that I had a pretty good time.

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