“A pity! Shall I harvest one more of mine and send it to you?” He pushed an innocent-looking pawn.
“Thank you, my lord, but no. You know my customs. I always eat the same as my workers. Split between nine hundred people, the harvest of one hive would come to about one honey cake each. In a few years, we’ll have enough to make mead.” I was forced to trade a bishop for two pawns.
“Mead! I’ve heard of that. My grandfather was said to have loved it. But who could afford to drink it now, honey being as rare as it is? I doubt if anyone still knows the way of making it. Do you know?” He took my queen's rook, hardly glancing at the board.
“It happens that I’ve made several barrels of the stuff. It's simple enough, and in truth, my lord, it was better than what we're drinking. I'll show your people how when the time comes.”
In modem Poland, the making of alcohol in any form is illegal without a state license. In America, where I went to college, any adult may make wine or beer, up to two hundred gallons a year, which is a lot. One of my dorm brothers was over twenty-one, and-purely in the interest of studying ancient technology-we had produced seven plastic garbage containers of the stuff, mead being the cheapest palatable drink that is easily made. I recall that it was under two dollars a gallon, buying honey wholesale and making mead of twelve percent alcohol.
“Sir Conrad, I know that I have said this too many times before, and that you have always proved me wrong. But what if you should die? What if no one else remembers how to make it?”
My position was untenable. I saw a forced mate in five moves, and Count Lambert would probably see a shorter one. I tipped my king over, acknowledging defeat. Count Lambert started to reset the board for another game, turning the board so that I would play black.
“As you wish, my lord. You dilute the honey with water at the ratio of three-to-one if you want a sweet wine, or from four-to-one even to six-to-one if you want a dry wine for hot summer afternoons. Boil it for a little while and skim off the foam that comes up.”
“Add spices if you want to. You might have some fun playing with them. Lemons are good, but I don’t think you can get them here. You might try substituting a few handfuls of rose hips. Or try apples. In fact, substituting apple juice for the water, and using less honey makes a fine drink. All of that is to your own taste. Making any wine is an art form.”
“The only important point is to use wine yeast, not beer yeast. That is to say, have a merchant bring you some very new wine up from Hungary. Tell him you want it still bubbling when it gets here. Put a little of the dregs into the mead after it has cooled.”
“It’s fit to drink in a few weeks, and it will last a long time if you keep the air away from it. After that, always save some of the dregs from the last batch to. start the new one. Start out with new barrels, and keep it far away from a beer brewery or a bakery.”
Once I had a glass works going, I could make a vapor lock easily enough. These people didn’t have a decent cork, anyway. The nearest cork trees were in Spain, and I doubt if the Spaniards knew what to do with them. A siphon? The nearest rubber tree was in the Amazon valley!
“That’s all? Not nearly as hard as the way you told us of making steel! You've taught us so much. Your mills, the factories, your excellent hunt! Did I tell you that I have thought on a way to do one of your 'Mongol hunts' on all of my lands, and thus clear them of the wolves and bears that have been killing my people?”
“No, my lord, you hadn’t.” Count Lambert had gotten entirely too good at the modem far-flung sort of chess-style. This time I threw an old-fashioned Stonewall attack at him.
“Well, you remember that the problems were that my lands are many days’ walk across, and if the peasants acting as beaters had to be out more than one day, we would have difficulty sheltering them at night, for the hunt must take place in the late fall, when the game is the fattest and the furs are good.”
“Also, no one knew how we could keep the wolves from sneaking out in the dark.”
“The solution is simple. Not one big hunt, but a lot of smaller ones! I shall divide my lands into many smaller ’hunting districts.' Each of these will be of such a size that a man can walk from the border to the center in less than a day.” He replied to the Stonewall in the standard manner. He hadn't forgotten a thing!
“Interesting, my lord, but what stops the animals from crossing from one district to another between hunts? You could have one district cleaned out, and then have it reinfested before you cleared out the next.” I fianchettoed my queen’s bishop.
“Not if we do all of them on the same day! I think I have peasants enough to do it, and if the nobles tire of the sport, why, the commoners can help with the killing as well. Also, I think that many knights from the surrounding counties might well come if invited.” He was pushing in at my center again.
“It sounds good to me, my lord. You can count on my support.” I castled king’s side.
“More than that, Sir Conrad. I was counting on your leadership. I want you to organize the thing.”
“Well, if you wish, my lord. But are you sure that I’m the best man for the job? I really don't know much about hunting. I don't know the borders of your lands at all. And I don't know which of your knights and barons own which sections of your lands. I don't even know who the surrounding counts are, except for your brother.”
“It could be a very remunerative position, Sir Conrad. As Master of the Hunt, you could claim a certain portion of the take for yourself. All the deer skins, for example.”
“Thank you, my lord. But I repeat, I’ll do it if you want me to, but I don't think I'm the best man for it.”
“I’ve already said that I want you to!”
I sighed. When Count Lambert wants something, he gets it. Best to bow to the inevitable. “As you wish, my lord, and thank you. Would you object if I appointed a deputy to assist me?”
“Not in the least. Who did you have in mind?”
“I think I’ll ask Sir Miesko first. If he's not interested, then perhaps Sir Vladimir. ”
“Excellent. Let me know when everything’s settled. No hurry on anything. Work all winter if you need to.”
“Thank you, my lord. On another subject, the second mill, the one that is to thresh and grind grain. I can’t help noticing that work is slowing down. Do you know why that is?” I was being smashed back into the corners again.
“In fact I do. I ordered it slowed down because I haven’t figured out yet what to do with my lawbreakers if there is no grain to grind. As it is, if there are no lawbreakers, my peasants must take turns at the hand-operated mill. After all, the grain must be ground and everybody knows it. This keeps them all on the lookout for any infraction. It also gives me a form of punishment that everyone knows is not cruel, but simply tedious. Few men would turn in a neighbor for a whipping, but for a few days at the stone? Why, that's treated with humor.”
“As a result, I have very little real crime and my people all love me. But without their having to grind grain, what am I to do?”
“I see, my lord. So you need a job that is unpleasant but necessary, and must be done year around by a few men. ”
“Yes. You have a thought?”
“Perhaps, my lord. Did you know that right here, we are sitting on top of one of the world’s major coal deposits?”
“Coal? Right here?”
“Many layers of coal, my lord. They stretch almost all the way from Cracow to Wroclaw. I don’t know how far down the first big seam is around here, but it's one of the thickest in the world, more than two dozen yards thick in most places. I would guess that it's at least eight dozen yards down. But most farmers would find working in a mine to be unpleasant.”
“Yes, I can see it! It might work! Slaving all day in the cold and dark and wet! They are cold, wet, and dark, aren’t they?”
“Most assuredly, my lord.”
“Yes, that would solve the problem nicely. Only, what would we do with all the coal?”
“Well, heat your houses with it, for starters! Later on, I’ll show you lots of things you can do with it.”
“Now, Sir Conrad, I know that won’t work. I know a man who tried to burn coal in his firepit. It stank up his house so badly that they all had to run out into the snow! That house stank for years!”
“In an open firepit, you’re right my lord. It takes a special kind of a stove. I hope to be making potbellied stoves by next summer, at a price that a peasant can afford. They'll bum anything.”
“Excellent! It’s getting to be a long walk for firewood, and the peasants will see the need for coal. You will be able to show my people the way of digging this mine?” He took my rook and knight in rapid succession. All I got out of it was his bishop.
“Of course, my lord.”
“Then it’s settled. I'll have work speeded up on the grain mill. It should be done by spring, so have your plans ready right after spring planting.”
“Another thing I wanted to discuss with you. I like that blacksmith you sent me. I don’t think he's as good as Ilya, but he doesn't make me mad enough to kill twice a day. What say I trade you, Ilya for the new man?” I lost my queen.
“Fine by me, my lord, if both men are willing.”
“They are. It was them that brought the matter up to me. They also both wanted to leave Ilya’s wife here, but I don't see how we can allow that, The Church would not be pleased, and it's never been too happy with me.”
“The Church is not pleased because you are separated from your wife, my lord. Why can’t you grant the same privilege to Ilya?”
“Why? Because I’m a nobleman and he's a commoner, that's why! The commons don't have the brains or the ability to regulate their own lives properly. That's why they serve us, and why we serve them. I may not be the pillar of marital fidelity, but my wife has not taken another husband and I have not taken another wife. What these smiths are proposing is nothing less than that the one should step into the bed of the other! That is clearly against the laws of the Church. Without the influence of the Church and Christian morality, we'd have nothing but chaos on our hands! The Church must be maintained and its laws enforced!”
“I suppose you’re right, my lord. Well, what's a few more mouths to feed?” I lost my last knight and my position was terrible. I knocked over my king. I had lost two out of two. Damn. When we first started playing, a year ago, I'd won the first two dozen games.
“Good. Then shall we go make an appearance at the festivities?”
They started the gift-giving when we returned. The gambling pot I’d won in the course of surviving my Trial by Combat had a fair amount of jewelry in it, which made gift-giving pretty simple. I started with those nobles least important to me, Sir Vladimir's sister and her husband who had come down from Gneizno. I'd never met them before and would likely never see them again, so a small gift was appropriate. I took out a sack of my least valuable jewelry, poured it on a tray and asked each to choose what he or she wanted. They were delighted.
As I went up my guest list, I periodically noted when the pile was growing small and added another sack of jewels, a step up from the first batch, but nobody knew that but me. My own ladies were near the end, and after Annastashia took her choice, I added to it the purse of silver I had denied her a few days before.
“I hear you’ve been acting properly, daughter!” I said, and the crowd cheered. The rumor was out that she had thrown Sir Vladimir out of her bed once I'd adopted her and she was no longer a peasant wench.
I’d saved Count Lambert's priest, Father John, and his magnificent French wife until the end. Lady Francine was easily the most beautiful woman I had seen in this century. She chose a heavy gold pendant and chain with some sort of green stone in it. It might have been an emerald, but who could tell? It was polished smooth and glassy, since the cutting of facets hadn't been invented yet.
“Father John, last year I was ignorant of local customs and didn’t realize that I owed you a gift, so the best I could do at the time was a poor one. This year, I notice that your altar furnishings could use some improvement. Would this be acceptable?”
I held up one of the stranger things I’d found in my booty from the Crossmen, a large and ornate glass goblet. The crowd's reaction surprised me. Gold and silver jewelry they had taken in their stride, but a piece of glass got a chorus of “oohs” and “aahs.”
Father John stood up. “Last year I gave you some of my carvings. This Christmas I hadn’t expected to see you alive! The truth is that I have nothing to give you in return!” The crowd laughed.
“Well, you won’t get off that light!” I said. “We've just built a big church at Three Walls that is bare of all carving. I'll take it out in trade!” The crowd was in a good mood.
The other nobles distributed their gifts. I collected quite a lot of nicely embroidered garments, and Sir Vladimir and his brothers had clubbed up to buy me a magnificent goldhandled dagger, with all sorts of stone and inlay work.
Count Lambert’s gift to me was to publicly appoint me his Master of the Hunt, a job that I didn't want. I tried to take it with good grace.
After most of the gift-giving was over, I stood up again. “I’m going back to Three Walls after the wedding. I won't be here for Twelfth Night, when one gifts the members of the opposite class, so I have to give my gifts to the residents of Okoitz early. Bring it in!” Four men rolled in two heavy barrels.
“Last year, Ilya promised to make each of you a set of door hinges. Then I kept him busy all year long working on my projects, and now I’m stealing him from you!” Ilya looked surprised. This was the first he'd heard of my approval of his permanent move to Three Walls. “In those barrels is a set of brass hinges and a brass door latch for every commoner's door in Okoitz-no longer will you close your doors by lifting them into place!” That brought down the house!
When the noise stopped, I said, “What’s more, I'm going to be rude enough to hint at what I want for my present! You remember all those seeds I gave you last Christmas? Well, I want them back!”
“If you can’t do that, then give me about a quarter of your new seeds! And I'd like you to loan me the packages they came in, so I'll know what's what!” They all laughed and cheered again, so I expected that we'd have watermelon next year.
As things were winding down and I was leaving, Count Lambert half jokingly said, “You gave the priest that magnificent goblet and I only got this gold chain?”
I was dumbstruck. That chain weighed half a kilo! It was probably worth eight thousand American dollars!
“I didn’t realize that you wanted the goblet, my lord. But I'll make you a promise. In four years, I'll gift you with a hundred glass goblets, and enough glassware so that every man below you, commoners and all, can toast you with it!”
It was his turn to be dumbstruck.
Chapter Two
The next day we had a beautiful wedding. Everything went off nicely, the church was packed and I gave the bride to a beaming Sir Vladimir.
As father of the bride, I paid for the wedding feast, which also was held in the cloth factory for lack of anything else large enough. Lambert gave me a good price on the food and drink, since if it wasn’t for the wedding, he would have had to put on a feast that day anyway. It was the Christmas season.
The honeymoon trip wasn’t then a local custom, so the next morning we went back toward Three Walls, Sir Vladimir and his new wife included. We got as far as Sir Miesko's, where they were ready for us.
After the workers were settled into the copious hay of Sir Miesko’s biggest barn, we sat down to dinner in the manor. At his suggestion, since seven more places were available once Sir Miesko's family and my party were seated, I invited in my bailiff, my two foremen and their wives, and my accountant, Piotr.
These people were awestruck at the honor done them, and scarcely said a word as supper started, although Piotr kept glancing at Krystyana, who was sitting across from him. The poor kid was still smitten.
I
told Sir Miesko about Count Lambert’s plan for the Great Hunt. I also told him that I really didn't want to get much involved with it, but that Count Lambert had insisted. “What I'm building up to is that I would like you to do the job for me. Would you like to be my deputy? Count Lambert said that we could take as our portion pretty much whatever we wanted. Do you think you might be interested?”
“I might. Even a small share of the take from all of Count Lambert’s lands would be vast! Consider what was harvested from your lands alone! But there are details to be considered…”
We were soon into a deep conversation, with Lady Richeza and Krystyana sitting between us. These two fine and understanding women looked at each other, got up, and sat back down once Sir Miesko and I had scooted close together. The conversation never broke and not a word was said about the new table arrangement.
The deal we made was that Sir Miesko would take complete charge of the project in all but name. He would divide the county into eight or nine hunting districts, and appoint a district master for each. The district masters would be responsible for building an enclosure if something suitable wasn’t already available, seeing that everything was properly arranged and feeding the people participating. In return for this they would get all the deer skins taken in their district.
Peasants participating would divide one-quarter of the meat between them, and the nobles there would get another quarter. The landowners would get half the meat, proportioned according to their areas. Sir Miesko would get all the furs taken, except for the wolf skins, which were to be mine. I also got any aurochs captured, to be delivered live to me. They were an endangered species and I meant to domesticate them.
“Sir Conrad, you’re taking the short end of the stick!” Sir Miesko said. It's interesting that he used an expression that has lasted to modem times. The local custom among these largely illiterate people was to account for debts by cutting notches into a stick. If I lent you three pigs, we would cut three notches into a stick of wood. Then we would split the stick about in half, down the middle of the notches, so we each had a record. When the sticks were put back together again, it would be obvious if either of us had done further whittling! Wood never splits evenly. and as the lender, the creditor, I got the larger stick of wood and became the stickholder. You, as the borrower, got the short end of the stick.
The Radiant Warrior Page 2