First Lessons (A Medieval Tale #1)

Chapter 4, part 2

After two days spent writing, she took a day off to go see the blacksmith. The handsome young man was built like a large bookshelf. After about five minutes of drawing on the ground with a stick, he said he could make her several of the new metal quills she wanted, but he warned her that he wasn't used to doing such fine work and begged her not to have him executed if something wasn't quite right. Aliya thought for a moment and nodded. She would give him a chance. If he couldn't do it, she would find someone else who could.

A metal quill would be an improvement over a goose feather, and there would be demand for it. She also wanted to develop a non-spill inkwell, still primitive, but useful for merchants, sailors, and other travelers. The blacksmith understood and promised to make a prototype once he finished the quills. He could make plenty of inkwells; it wouldn't be difficult. Lillian smiled. She needed money to improve the estate, and while goose-feather pens looked pretty, they were awful to write with. She hoped if she patented her metal quills, she could really make some money.

***

"Countess, Father Vopler is here to see you."

Shoot! The priest must have heard of Etor's departure and come to see what was going on. If I know anything about the church, he isn't just here to look. He'll expect to go away with something.

Priests were no fools. In order to serve the church, a man had to be well educated for his time, with solid theological underpinnings and the ability to use psychological pressure, even bordering on hypnosis, to imperceptibly get information out of his flock.

It's game over.

She would have to keep the interview brief, or he would see through her. To the peasants, she was just a countess with a gigantic attitude. Emma may have guessed at more, but a priest was a different matter. What do I do? She needed to scare him, but not too bad, and without making him mad; he could come in useful later.

"Fine. Have him wait and give him something to eat."

"We have boiled vegetables, Countess. We also have buckwheat with meat and black bread, as you ordered..."

"Then give him that," Lily snorted. There was a gleeful twinkle in Emma's eyes. Everyone in the castle was on the same diet. Lily had even given the keys to the food storeroom to Martha. Her stomach thought it was a bottomless barrel, so she wanted to keep temptation at bay.

"Will you be changing clothes, My Lady?"

Lily sighed. She suspected that Emma was much more intelligent than she let on, and she probably had some ideas about her Lady's strange behavior. But advantage was stronger than curiosity. As long as people felt that they were better off with the new Lily, they would support her.

She couldn't afford to alienate this priest, however, or cause him to suspect that there was something strange about her. Medieval religion was a powerful force.

I have to humor him, but I won't give him any money. Not a chance! Lily believed that priests were like gypsies—once given a handout they would never leave.

"Call Martha or one of the girls to help me get ready." She sighed and headed for her closet to choose her most ridiculous dress.

It took about half an hour to put on everything she was supposed to wear. Lily was so nervous that she argued with the servant girl and stomped her foot. It shouldn't take this long to change clothes and leave my room!

What's my plan? I have to get rid of him and make him never want to come back here. What do men hate most of all? Tears and argument. It doesn't matter what year it is—a loud, highly strung woman is a force to be reckoned with.