The High-Tech Knight aocs-2 Read online

  "I did precisely the same," said Conrad. "Do all mothers read the same books?"

  "My mother can't read at all. Nonetheless, it was wise of Vladimir to bring the beer. Why, it might have fallen into the hands of some intemperate inebriate and thus contributed to all manner of venial sins."

  "As well as a few carnal ones."

  "Just who are you men?" I shouted.

  "He doesn't recognize us. I'm crushed. It must be eyestrain."

  "Doubtless brought on by staring at these lovely ladies."

  "Dammit!" I said.

  "We're the Upper Selesian Drinking and Fighting Men's Guild."

  "Dragons slain, treasures liberated, maidens put in distress, and promptly rescued."

  "All services performed by true belted knights."

  "I never heard of it," I said.

  "Reasonable. We only just formed it this afternoon. After all, if the commons can have guilds with all sorts of special privileges, why can't we?"

  "Right. We have, for example, declared a guild monopoly on rescuing fair maidens in distress. Now you, young lady, you look to be in need of rescuing."

  "But I'm not in distress!" Natalia said.

  "Easily arranged. Gregor here can do it."

  "Gregor!" I shouted. "You are my cousin Gregor!"

  "A slow lad, but he comes through in the end."

  "And that's second cousin. You must allow us some dregs of pride," his brother Wiktor said.

  "Nonetheless, we are family, Vladimir," my cousin Wojciech added. "So get in the tub, share out the beer, and introduce us to your attractive friends."

  I got in. The room had lightened enough for me to see reasonably well. "Have some beer, if you need it badly enough to beg. Unfortunately, I can not introduce you three to my friends. You see, they must maintain their standards, which would be irretrievably lowered by social contact with the less fortunate members of-"

  "Come off it, Vladimir. They played a good joke on you. Don't rub it back on them. Gentlemen, I am Sir Conrad Stargard."

  "And I am Sir Gregor Banki. These are my brothers Sir Wiktor and Sir Wojciech."

  "Sir Wojciech! What fool finally knighted you?" I asked, but was ignored.

  "You are the Sir Conrad Stargard? I should have known by your size," Wiktor said.

  "You are the warrior who singlehandedly destroyed Sir Rheinburg's outlaws? The warlock who is doing all those strange things in Okoitz?"

  "Gentlemen, if you want to stay friends, I'll ask you to forget that word 'warlock.' I've built a textile factory at Okoitz and I have a few windmills going up. As to the rest, well, it just sort of happened," Conrad said.

  A waitress from the inn brought a tray of beer and mugs. Despite the fact that we had five lovely and nude young ladies in the tub with us, all male eyes followed her around the room as she served.

  As she left, Wiktor said, "Sir Conrad, how do you go about training them to walk that way? I mean, the way her, uh, derriere moves. ."

  "It's not training. It's the shoes. Walking on high heels requires more hip action."

  "I've got to get one of those outfits!" Yawalda whispered.

  Conrad laughed. "Gentlemen, let me complete the introductions. These are Lady Krystyana, Lady Annastashia, Lady Natalia, Lady Yawalda, and Lady Janina."

  "We are honored, ladies," Gregor said. "You must forgive me. I had assumed that since Sir Conrad just came from Okoitz, you must be some of Count Lambert's famous ladies-in-waiting."

  "Well, they are," Conrad said. "Or were. But since I seem to be their guardian, I've just promoted them to the nobility."

  "Can you do that?" Wiktor asked.

  "Are you saying that I can't?" Conrad said.

  "Sir Conrad, considering the stories that we've heard of your sword, I'd say that you can do just about any thing you want." Gregor laughed.

  "Then it's settled," Conrad said. "I think I've soaked enough to loosen the dirt. Krystyana, if you'd get a brush and some soap going on my back, I'll return the favor shortly."

  As soon as Krystyana went to work, Annastashia claimed proprietorship of my own back. After a few moments of reciprocal grinning between my cousins and the other girls, there was shortly a great deal of scrubbing going on. A very great deal. In fact, the waitress returned to freshen our mugs and was hardly noticed.

  Things became increasingly boisterous, which was just as well. The mood of the company was such that things had to fall out either to sport or to sex and I wouldn't like my aunts to hear that I was involved in a public orgy!

  Soon people were bumping into people, Natalia splashed Gregor, he retaliated, and in moments the room exploded with soapy water as everyone joined in.

  As the water settled, Conrad vaulted from the tub and went to the clean-water tub for a hot soak. The old bath attendant, having finished with our clothes, came in, shook her tired gray head and picked up a mop. She dried the floor, muttering under her breath. The waitress returned with fresh mugs of beer, as the old ones were half filled with soapy water.

  The others followed Conrad to the clean tub, but Annastashia motioned for me to stay behind with her.

  "What Sir Conrad said," she whispered, "about how we were all ladies, now. Is that real? I mean, would your parents. -."

  I shook my head. "It means that you will be treated with great courtesies at the inn and on Sir Conrad's lands. But my parents, especially my mother-she'd look down on anyone whose great-grandfather was a commoner."

  After the bath, my cousins accepted Sir Conrad's invitation to supper. We returned to the inn to find the table ready for us and fairly groaning with food and drink. We did justice to a slab of smoked shellfish, a joint of lamb, and an entire goose. Gallons of wine and buckets of beer washed down mounds of bread and cheese. I think only my Uncle Felix sets a better table than Conrad's innkeeper.

  Further, we did not have to go to the market to purchase these things so that the inn could prepare them, as is the usual arrangement with inns, but the inn provided the service, not only to us but to all as a matter of custom. The innkeeper told me that this innovation of Sir Conrad's was partly responsible for the profitability of the inn, for by buying in vast quantities he was able to get the best at very low prices.

  "Further," Tadeusz continued, "I need only prepare a half dozen items a day to satisfy my guests, saving the cooks much effort."

  "But how do you know how much to cook?" Krystyana asked.

  "My lady, we know about how much of what our guests will eat. True, sometimes the pigs are fed better than they deserve, but not often. Also, our waitresses have become adept at persuading our customers to purchase that which we have in excess."

  I laughed. "I think those girls could have a man eating dog meat without his noticing!"

  "Hmm… an interesting suggestion, my lord. But I'm afraid that Sir Conrad would not approve."

  "No, Sir Conrad would not approve," Sir Conrad said. "And you're feeding surplus food to the pigs? That's not good. Tomorrow, talk to Father Thomas and see what can be done about giving it to the deserving poor. Don't give them anything you wouldn't eat yourself, but, well, there are hungry people out there."

  I drifted off in private words with Annastashia and so lost the thread of the conversation. When I returned, Sir Conrad was reading from a list.

  "…two dozen carpenter's hammers, two dozen mason's hammers, three dozen wood chisels, assorted, one dozen wheelbarrows, two dozen…"

  "Sir Conrad," I said, "what are you talking about? And what is a wheelbarrow?"

  "A wheelbarrow is a sort of pushcart with only one wheel."

  "One wheel? Then why doesn't it fall over?"

  "It would, except that a man holds it up."

  "That makes no sense at all."

  "When you see one you'll understand. Come take a look at this list of tools I need to buy. Tell me if I've forgotten anything."

  "Tools? Why buy tools?" I asked. "If you hire workmen, they'll have their own tools."

  "Really? I didn't k
now that."

  "Then there is perhaps another thing you don't know, Sir Conrad," my cousin Gregor said. "And that's that a workman with tools costs half again more than one without. If you project work of any size…"

  "We have a town to build, with a wall and a mine to redig, and-"

  "Then you will save by providing the tools yourself. Also, your tools would doubtless be made hard by this cementation process of yours that we have been hearing about. "

  "Of course."

  "Then they will be better tools than any a workman would have. Times have not been good in Cieszyn. In the last year, not a workman in the city has spent a penny on anything but food, and little enough on that."

  "That rough, huh?"

  "It saddens a man to look at them, the men ragged and hungry, the women worse."

  "And the children?" Conrad asked.

  "The children? They're aren't many of them. Mostly they die very young. But what can one do? My own peasants are well enough fed and we support our own poor but that is all. I have no great store of wealth with which to feed all the wretches in the city."

  "But surely something can be done."

  "If you would be a benefactor, Sir Conrad, hire more men than you need. You'll get them cheap enough. And build on a lavish scale."

  "A good thought, Sir Gregor. I'll act on it."

  Chapter Four

  FROM THE DIARY OF CONRAD SCHWARTZ

  It soon became obvious that I couldn't simply hire a construction company and go to Three Walls. I would have to hire individuals and form them into a unit myself.

  Furthermore, most workmen didn't have their own tools. They had sold them to feed their families. What few tools were in the men's hands were in very poor shape and were often poorly designed in the first place.

  Nor could I go to a store and buy tools, not in the quantities I required. I had to contract to have them made and if I was going to do that, I might as well see that they were designed properly. I set up my drawing board and went to work.

  I started drawing pliers and was astounded to discover that I knew the designs for more than ninety sorts of pliers. I spent two days drawing them and then realized that most of them would be useless in construction work.

  I had to stop and think out exactly what we would need, because if we later discovered some lack, we'd be hard-pressed to supply it.

  I only had to put up some buildings fourteen miles away, yet my situation was almost like that of a nineteenth-century explorer going into the jungle. If we didn't bring it, we wouldn't have it.

  The usefulness of many tools often depends on subtle properties. At first glance, you normally wouldn't notice much or any difference between a crosscut saw and a ripsaw, but in use the difference is huge. One cuts much better against the grain of the wood and the other with it. The difference has to do with the angle of the teeth and it took some experimentation to get it right.

  When I was sure of a design and the quantities required, I put it up for bids by nailing a notice to the church door. I know that sounds sacrilegious, but that's how these people posted a public notice.

  Bidding for work was not the usual way of doing things and many blacksmiths objected. It was contrary to guild rules. They were working men, not merchants. It was unheard of.

  I listened to their objections and then told them that if they wanted my work they would have to bid on it. In the end, they did it my way and for a reasonable price, but it is sad that a good socialist would have to do such things.

  All of this took time, and two whole months went by before we could leave for Three Walls.

  One morning, I was having dinner with the Banki brothers, and mentioned that I had run into a German knight on the trail in the High Tatras Mountains who had given me a bash on the head. And a month after that, I'd been attacked on Count Lambert's trail by another German. And the day after that I was attacked by a whole band of Germans!

  "It's like there was an invasion of damned Germans!" I said.

  "You must be careful with that sort of talk," Sir Gregor said. "Did you know, for example, that Duke Henryk's paternal grandmother was a German princess? That his mother was a German princess? That his wife was a German princess? And that young Henryk's wife is a German princess?"

  "No I didn't. Why on Earth did they all marry Germans?"

  "I couldn't say exactly, of course, but I suppose the fact that a German princess often comes with a dowry that is ten times what any Pole could pay for his daughter has a lot to do with it. So many of their young men go wandering off and getting themselves killed that there's always a surplus of young women. Then, too, in Germany only the oldest son inherits the father's lands and title. The younger sons, with scant prospects in life, aren't the most sought after of marriage partners."

  "Then there are, the German skilled workmen," Wiktor added. "They know many things that our own people don't. Many of them come to Poland to improve their position and it is the duke's policy to welcome them."

  "Well, peaceful or not, it still seems like an invasion to me," I said.

  Sir Wojciech said, "Oh, that I should have a hundred skilled workmen and a beautiful German princess and a full sack of gold to go with her! Invade me! Invade me!"

  I took a pull of beer from a new pitcher and it was foul. I called Tadeusz over.

  "Try that and tell me if it's the beer or only my mood that's bad."

  He did and he blanched white. "Forgive me, Sir Conrad. This must be from the new batch. The whole barrel must be bad. We can't serve this to our customers. A pity, but the barrel must be dumped and sulfur burned in it, then filled with boiling water, and soaked before it can be used again."

  "So you're saying that you have a bad strain of yeast going. How much beer are we talking about?"

  "This was the big barrel, my lord. More than six thousand gallons."

  "Ouch! That's a lot of beer. Look-don't dump the barrel. There's something we can do with that beer. It tastes bad, but it still has alcohol in it. There's a process called distillation that will let us save the alcohol."

  "This alcohol, my lord. What is it good for?"

  "Drinking, mostly, but it has other uses. It's good on cuts and wounds and helps keep them from festering. It's useful in making other things like perfumes and medicines. It's a good preservative and keeps things from rotting. But mostly it's for drinking."

  "This sounds wondrous, my lord. And we could do this distillation here at the inn?"

  "Here or at the brass works. I'll go over there and see what I can come up with in the way of a still."

  We had two big brass kettles that were made for washing wool at Count Lambert's cloth factory, but not yet delivered to him. They each had a tight-fitting lid.

  For distillation, you need a container to simmer the mash, or in this case the beer. You contain the vapors and cool them down so that they can liquefy. This is traditionally done with a coil of copper tubing, which we didn't have. But the only important thing is to have enough surface area to provide cooling.

  I took one of the kettles and set it up over an outdoor fireplace in the inn's courtyard. I found a hefty length of cast brass pipe intended for the washline that was as long as I was tall. I set the second kettle in a washtub that distance from the first. Then I got a smith from the brass works to solder the pipe between the two kettles, near the top.

  This involved punching holes in my liege lord's new kettles, but he probably wouldn't notice. If he did, I could probably think up a good reason why I put the holes there on purpose. Engineers all develop a certain skill at snow jobs.

  I also had the smith put a hole in each of the lids so we could check the liquid level in the kettles with a stick. Some thick leather made a good enough gasket for the lids. Sandbags held them down tight and wooden plugs took care of the holes in the lids.

  By midafternoon, we had a still that any moonshiner would be proud of.

  With the help of one of the cooks, I put forty gallons of bad beer in the boiler kettl
e and got a fire going under it. We filled the washtub around the condenser kettle with cool water and sat back to watch it work. By dark the level in the boiler had gone down about ten percent and I figured that we'd gotten all that we were going to get.

  Sure enough, there were about four gallons of clear liquid in the bottom of the condenser. I took a pitcher of it into the inn and told the cook to put the rest into a barrel someplace. What was left in the boiler could be fed to the pigs.

  Tadeusz was eagerly awaiting the results of our efforts. The thought of a new drink fascinated him.

  You see, there were very few things to drink in the Middle Ages. There was wine that had to be imported. There was beer that was flat for lack of any container that could hold pressure. There was water that often wasn't safe to drink. There was milk that was only available in the spring and summer. And that was all. Nothing else existed with which a person could quench his thirst.

  He looked with great anticipation at the pitcher in my hand, and broke out his two best (and only) glass goblets. Glass was rare and fabulously expensive. They were the only bits of glass at the inn, reserved for the bride and groom at wedding feasts. The other guests at the head table had to make do with silver.

  I poured two fingers worth into each glass and we drank.

  It was raw and rough and rugged. Wicked stuff. I once tried the product of an Appalachian moonshiner and while my results weren't quite as bad as his, I came close.

  Tadeusz was literally cross-eyed. I'd heard of people having that reaction, but I'd never seen anyone actually do it before. There were beads of sweat on his forehead and his breathing had stopped. I had to pat him on the back to get it going again.

  Once he was something like normal again, he wheezed, "Sir Conrad. Do your people actually drink that?"

  "Well, something like it. I think it needs aging."

  "God in heaven, but yours must be a tough people."

  "Not really," I said. I held the lip of my goblet to the lamp on the table. The dregs burned vigorously and that meant that it was over fifty percent alcohol.