Ring of fire II (assiti shards)

by Eric Flint

  Yes, yes, Hobbes had been told that the Americans didn't have a noble class. As a historian, Hobbes was familiar with several governments which were republican in name, but run by a small group of families. The Most Serene Republic, for example. Hobbes assumed that Grantville had a similar system.

  The thought of William marrying Judy was amusing, in one respect. William had no idea how much Judy looked like William's mother Christian, when she was sixteen. Both pretty, redheaded wenches, accustomed to getting their own way.

  The rail line from Grantville to Halle, when completed, would be almost ninety miles long. The track crossed "the ring," and then followed the west bank of the Saale as it leisurely wound its way through the forested limestone hills of Thuringia.

  The train was powered by what the girls called a "pickup truck," and it drew three wooden cars on metal-topped wooden rails. The rails were not unfamiliar to Hobbes; there were similar structures serving a few British collieries. The "pickup truck," however, was a source of great amazement.

  The train traveled at the astounding speed of ten miles per hour, without rest. William was quite excited, but Hobbes caught the quickly concealed smiles on the part of the up-timers. This is slow, by their standards, he thought.

  Their parties occupied much of one rail car. The five in the Cavendish party of course, Judy and some of her friends, and two hired guards. This amused Hobbes a bit. He suspected that they were present to protect the girls from William as much as from bandits. Whereas Hobbes was intent on protecting William from the girls.

  The first stop was at Rudolstadt, just outside the Ring of Fire. About three hours later, they pulled into the station serving the university town of Jena. Some students came onboard their car. One, more courageous than the others, spoke briefly to Heather, who was sitting nearest to them. She spoke to the young scholar with great animation, but occasionally glanced at William. To see if he is getting jealous? Hobbes wondered.

  An hour and a half later, they were in Naumburg. This was the end of the line for now, so they hired coaches and continued on to Halle, where they would spend the night.

  They had reserved the following day for seeing the sights, and playing tennis. The next morning, they would board the barge to Magdeburg, another fifty-odd miles away. It would be slow, even though they were traveling with the current, but the girls weren't accustomed to riding long distances.

  "This place is really gloomy looking," Vicky said. The walls and ceiling of the tennis court were painted a solid black. Nor did the flagstone floor do much to cheer up the look. "Is this a home for Goths?"

  Hobbes looked puzzled. "The Goths? Well, they are a Germanic tribe, and we are in Germany, but I don't think they played tennis. At least, I don't recall any reference to it in Jordanes' Getica."

  "She means, why all the black?" said Gabrielle.

  "Oh. To make it easier to see the ball, which is white."

  "Why not whitewash the walls, and use a black ball?"

  "They do that in Spain, but nowhere else in Europe."

  "They don't have very good architects here in Halle, do they?"

  "Why do you say that?"

  "There's a kink in that wall, the one without the penthouses."

  "That's the tambour, the 'drum.' You see how at the kink, there's an angled face? If the ball hits that, it's 'pinball time.' "

  William suggested that they watch others play first, then take their turn.

  Two young gentlemen did some practice volleying, and then began the game in earnest. The server cried "tenez!", and his opponent responded "Oui!"

  "So that's where tennis gets its name," said Heather. "But what does 'tenez' mean?"

  William smiled. "It means, 'take this!' " The girls laughed.

  They were seated in the dedans, the gallery behind the service side of the court. William had told them that it was one of the three winning openings. The first serve sailed up into the air, and skipped several times along the service penthouse. Were that not enough, it rounded the corner, striking the penthouse behind the receiver, before it finally landed. The ball was returned after the first bounce.

  "Was that a good serve?"

  "Oh, yes. The receiving player has to just wait patiently for it to come down. The Spanish even have a saying, aun esta la pelota en el tejado, 'the ball is still on the roof.' They say it when something is not yet decided."

  Suddenly, the receiver swatted the ball over the net and into the main wall. It bounced off and flew straight toward the girls in the dedans. They flinched involuntarily, but the ball was caught by the net hung in front of them.

  The impact rang a bell. "Fifteen-love," the marker intoned.

  "So if this dedans is the winning opening for the receiver, where's the one for the server?"

  "There are two, actually. If you look at the far wall, behind the receiver, you see that it's blank except for a small hole on our right."

  "I see it."

  "That's the grille. In the old monasteries, the monks went to that opening to talk to outsiders."

  "To order a hamburger?" asked John.

  Derrick offered John a high five. "Good one!"

  Gabrielle tapped the side of her head with a finger. "I'm glad someone thinks John's funny."

  "Besides the grille, the server can also score outright by placing a shot into the 'winning gallery.' That's the last of the eight openings under the service side penthouse, the farthest one from us."

  "What happens if you hit the ball into one of the other seven?"

  "That creates a chase, just as if you had a double bounce on the parallel part of the floor."

  Eventually, the players finished their four-game set, waved to the spectators, and walked off.

  William approached the marker, who happily accepted the fee for two hours of court time, and supplied William with rackets and balls. However, when the girls came onto the playing floor, he balked. Until William produced more money, which magically vanished into the marker's clothing.

  Judy had watched the negotiation. "It's kinda annoying that you can't play this game without a referee to mark the chases."

  William shrugged. "Before they used markers, there were many fights."

  William had them first just hit the ball back and forth. They needed to get used to the balls and rackets, both different from the modern ones. He encouraged them to cut under the ball, so it would drop sharply at the end of its trajectory.

  Then he had them try different kinds of serves. While this was going on, the master of the court, the ballmeister, arrived.

  "What's going on here? Why are there women on my court?"

  Their marker rose to the defense-of himself. "Women? Here?" He turned to Hobbes. "I am shocked, shocked, that you would bring women here. You dressed them in men's clothing to trick me. I am most disturbed."

  "I'm willing to pay a suitable fee for the privilege of playing here with these gentlewomen," said William.

  This offer didn't diminish the ballmeister's agitation. "This is a house for the royal game of tennis, not for the entertainment of doxies!"

  William bristled. Hobbes carefully stepped on his foot. "I don't understand your objection, my dear ballmeister," said Hobbes. "Women play in Udine, the chief town of the Friuli. And in Ferrara."

  "Well, let them go to Udine, or Ferrara, then, but they shall not, no, they shall not, play here." He shook his tennis racket in a threatening manner.

  Hobbes decided to try a different tack. "They are the guests of this young gentleman, who is the earl of Devonshire. What you would call a count. That makes him one of the British Hochadel. Do you really wish to offend him?"

  "You and he are welcome to play. Just not the women."

  "I won't play if you won't allow my friends to play," William said. "And consider this: The father of one of the young ladies is the Secretary of the Treasury of the CPE, and a confidante of Gustavus Adolphus."

  "I care not a fig. Get out, or I will have you dragged out."

  Wil
liam put his hand to his hip, reaching for the sword that wasn't there.

  Judy saw the gesture. "It's too hot to play, anyway. Let's get some fresh air." She looked at the other girls. They took their cue, and agreed with her.

  Once they were outside, of course, they were quick to vent their spleen. "I can't believe that in Halle, which gets so much business from Grantville, someone could be so obtuse."

  "Don't forget that this kind of tennis isn't known to any up-timers, save us. The creep probably doesn't have much contact with people from Grantville."

  Judy looked at William. "Are you disappointed? You said that tennis courts were rare in this part of Europe."

  William shrugged. "As Vicky said, it was too gloomy in there. Don't worry about it."

  "I wish there was a royal tennis court in Grantville. That would serve him right."

  The barge ride down to Magdeburg was picturesque, Judy supposed. Meaning, boring after the first hour. With the day a balmy one, Judy dozed off. And found herself dreaming about William. More specifically, dreaming about kissing William.

  She awoke with a guilty start, and saw Hobbes and William playing a game of chess, with Heather watching.

  Good thing Heather doesn't have telepathic powers, Judy thought. Or I might be swimming right now.

  Judy had thought that she just wanted a guy who was smart, and could make her laugh, she didn't care how handsome he was. Okay, now she had to admit, looking like a young Brad Pitt was a plus.

  William had stood up for the girls in Halle, even though, let's face it, he'd never heard of women's lib. Of course, from what Judy had heard about his mom, he probably thought there was more of a need for men's lib. But still, Judy had been pleased by his actions.

  And he did have, for lack of a better term, a curious turn of mind. Judy wouldn't have thought of descending by rope into Mount Vesuvius, that's for sure. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, Judy hadn't decided.

  Okay, she admitted, maybe she was interested in William. And Heather had had a fair shot at him.

  But Judy wasn't sixteen yet. And her parents had set sixteen as the rockbottom minimum dating age. Which Judy wouldn't reach until next year. By which time William would be back in England, for sure.

  It wasn't the sort of thing Judy could renegotiate. If she tried, her older sister Sarah would side with her parents. Because Sarah had to wait.

  At least it was an equal playing field. Heather was also fifteen and her parents would make her put off dating, too.

  Of course, the definition of a "date" could be pretty elastic. Judy would just have to think about how to stretch it.

  Imperial Palace, Magdeburg

  July 1633

  "A distinguished visitor? From England? Can't you fob him off on someone else? Isn't that what my staff is for? I have a war to win." Gustavus Adolphus was not really into the ceremonial aspects of royal office.

  "If you insist, Your Imperial Majesty, but I think you should make the time. He is a young man, the earl of Devonshire. They are one of the wealthiest noble families in England, and he is at an impressionable age. If you will excuse my saying so, you do intend to inspire hero worship in such youths. That may come in handy when he is a bit older.

  "And, sir, he is accompanied by a Mister Thomas Hobbes."

  "That name sounds vaguely familiar."

  "In the old time line, he became a famous political philosopher, a defender of monarchy. And yet his writings were influential in the development of the American political system."

  "Yes, yes, I think someone showed me something about his book Leviathan. You think he could be useful to us?"

  "He is quite a forceful writer."

  "All right. Fifteen minutes."

  Hobbes and William were ushered into the august presence of Gustavus Adolphus, Lion of the North, King of Sweden, Emperor of the Confederated Principalities of Europe, and Captain-General of the State of Thuringia-Franconia. Unfortunately for the royal schedule, the conversation drifted to the subject of tennis.

  "Tennis, you say? I adore the game. I learned it when I traveled in France, as 'Captain Gars.' "

  "We played it in France and Italy," William said. "And, after we crossed the Alps, in Augsburg and Nurnberg."

  "Nurnberg, yes. I was there last year, dealing with Wallenstein's army. Somehow never had the time to play tennis.

  "Now, earlier in the war, when I was outside Ingolstadt, I wanted to play at the ballhouse there. With my officers."

  "They wouldn't let you?" asked William.

  "No. And I made them a very reasonable offer. I promised to leave my army outside, and to allow food carts to enter the city for the entire day."

  Hobbes raised his eyebrows. "Oh. You wanted to play tennis in a city which you had under siege."

  "That's right. It was very unchivalrous of them to refuse."

  An hour later, Gustavus Adolphus was still rattling on about his tennis triumphs. His aide had to force him to go on to the next meeting.

  Wendell Residence, Magdeburg

  August 1633

  "So, how was your trip?" asked Judy the Elder. "And would you like more salad?"

  "No more, thank you," said Judy the Younger. She finished off the last leaf of lettuce and drank some weak beer. In Magdeburg, it was much safer than water. "The trip was fine, Mom. We even got to play a new kind of tennis in Halle."

  "Who taught you?"

  "We learned from Mister Hobbes. He's not just a philosopher, he plays tennis. Now that's something I bet Ms. Mailey didn't know.

  "Anyway, we went to this gigantic tennis court, and they showed us how to play what they call 'royal tennis' in England. You play indoors, in kind of an enclosed monastery courtyard, and you serve onto a ten-foot-tall rooftop so it bounces on the other side, and then both players can bounce it off the walls, and there are goals you can sink the ball into to score a point, and-

  "Who's 'they'?"

  "Hobbes and his student."

  "Somehow, I don't remember your mentioning him traveling with a student."

  "Oh, yes, that's how come Hobbes was in Grantville in the first place. He was guiding one of the Cavendishes around Europe."

  Momma raised an eyebrow. "One of the male Cavendishes?"

  Fletcher Wendell, who had been paying more attention to the food than to the conversation, heard the magic word "male" and came alert. But he let his wife continue to examine the defendant.

  "Yes."

  "A fellow middle-aged philosopher?"

  "Not exactly. William is around my age. Actually, younger than me."

  Fletcher finally intervened. "You do remember our dating rule, young lady."

  "Oh yes. But we weren't alone at the tennis court, there were a half-dozen of my friends there. Plus Mister Hobbes, who's an adult, and William's servants. So it was an adult-supervised group activity. Not a date."

  "Servants, plural? Just what is William's rank?"

  "He's the earl of Devonshire. And very rich."

  "I hope you aren't planning to take advantage of him." Fletcher reddened. "I mean, economically."

  "I haven't anything to sell to him right now. We're still waiting for the printers to finish the brochures for our South Sea Trading Company."

  "Very funny."

  "Our slogan will be 'Send Your Money South.' "

  Magdeburg

  August 1633

  Heather was not, she admitted to herself, the sort of person who let her emotions hang out. In fact, she looked down on those who did.

  But when you were interested in a guy, all those inhibitions kind of got in the way.

  She had traveled all the way from Grantville to Magdeburg, and she wasn't even sure that William knew that she liked him.

  Anyway, she had been happy when Judy had excused herself to spend a quiet evening with her family. Judy was a great friend and all, but she was just a little too pretty for Heather's peace of mind. When William was around, that is.

  So, she and Kelsey were walki
ng arm and arm in the market square, with Derrick and William behind them. "You know what to do," she whispered to her sister.

  "Oh, look at that," Kelsey said, pointing to one of the stalls. "Isn't that darling? Derrick, come with me. I think I might need your help."

  "What?"

  "Come… now."

  That left Heather alone with William. She was searching for the right way to start, when he spoke up.

  "So how long have you known Judy?"

  Arrgh, she thought. "For years."

  Her little tryst went rapidly downhill from there. He wanted to know all about Judy's likes and dislikes. And was she betrothed to anyone.

  Arrgh.

  Kelsey and Derrick emerged. Kelsey took one look at Heather, and her smile died stillborn.

  "The weather has suddenly gotten chilly," Heather said. "I want to go back to the inn. Now."

  By the end of the week, when it was time to head back to Grantville, Heather had more or less forgiven Judy. And even William. He probably wouldn't like doo-wop music, after all.

  But she was thinking of a few new additions to the Trommler Records song collection. "I'm Henry the Eighth" was one. "Mad Dogs and Englishmen" was another.

  Imperial Palace, Magdeburg

  August 1633

  Hobbes stared perplexedly at the paper in front of him. He had been assured that all applicants for positions with the CPE administration had to fill out this form.

  Some of the questions were perfectly reasonable, others… less so.

  But the most puzzling point of all was… why did they call it an SF-171?

  Grantville

  August 1633

  Judy and Millicent were lying on the bed in Millicent's room. Millicent's mom had gone ballistic at the first mention of the possibility of a "field trip" to Magdeburg. The two had a big argument, and Millicent had been grounded for the entire week that Judy and the others were away.

  Judy had been worried that Millicent would hold this against her, but she didn't. Of course, Millicent insisted on a blow-by-blow account of the whole journey.