"My Lord, she is ready," Barry said, his voice brimming with confidence.
My heart pounded in my chest. I couldn't even believe I was considering this. "Maybe we should wait. What if there is a problem?"
"The men are the best we have; they have spent hours with her. They could probably sail her in her sleep. The Wind Chaser will be fine."
"But the winds outside the cove are stronger, the waves higher. What if-"
"My lord, she has been out in the cove during rough seas and did just fine. The day is calm today, and the men know the sea. They will be gone for no more than a few bells."
"Fine, just make sure they all have their life vests. And…And, I'm overreacting. Sorry, Barry." I said.
Barry just smiled, "I know it's not just the boat you are worried about. You care for your people."
"I wish I could go with them. You know, just in case."
"My lord, if there is one person this place cannot afford to lose to the sea, it is you. After these men are comfortable out along the coast, they'll take you out."
"Well, they better not have too much fun without me," I said with mock seriousness, trying to ease the tension in my shoulders.
"I am sure it will be an awful experience for them, my lord," Barry said without a hint of sarcasm.
As I walked back to my desk, a messenger was waiting for me. He wore the livery of the House of Vaspar. The expression on his face was blank. I was both nervous and excited to hear what happened, and fortunately, the man did not wait for the ceremony.
"My lord, Count Fedrick Vaspar, wished for me to convey that he has removed the traitor from power and would like to establish friendly relations between the two counties. I have the formal agreement here." He said, handing me a letter.
"Why don't you have some refreshments while I look this over and compile a response? There is a kitchen in that building over there, and just tell them I sent you."
"Thank you, my lord."
As he walked away, I began to read through things. There was a personal message to me reaffirming what the messenger had just said, as well as a formal declaration of friendship that discussed trade and assistance in times of need. This was more Benjamin's thing than mine.
Unfortunately, he was in Plimgus, and I had just barely gotten back to North Cove. If all went well with the Wind Chaser, I would be able to get to Oceanside in less than half a day. For now, though, I would send this to him with a letter and ask him to look it over. If he approved, then he could use my seal to make the deal. After the messenger returned, I told him to spend the night in one of the long houses, and then he could head to Plimgus to get the paperwork taken care of.
*****
Once again, I was standing before a crowd of people. This time, it was people of various ages. All of them had passed the third tier of the North Cove Reading and Writing Course. The youngest was just eight years old, and the oldest was a man who was well into his fifties and still worked as a fisherman. It was both surprising and unsurprising how fast these people improved. Surprising because some of these people had only been taking the courses for a few months, unsurprising because I had never seen people so hungry to learn.
Any time they were not working, they were studying. In fact, most people were studying while they were working. They would study flashcards or quiz each other at every opportunity. The paper makers were required to produce a certain amount of paper every single month that was free to the general population of Cove Town. Scribes were required to produce flashcards as part of their training. So there was never a shortage of material being passed around.
For each tier that people passed, it would increase their income by one copper penny per working day. Which may not seem like a lot, but at tier three, that meant a person would receive eight and a half silver pennies extra per year if they saved it. Or it would be an extra loaf of bread a day for their family.
Of course, that is, days working for me. For those not working for me, it would be the same amount, but a reduction in taxes of five silver pennies' worth of income, converted to the barter system.
Those at tier three could do the calculations themselves. There were a few people who were willing to push themselves beyond tier three right now because there was no real incentive unless they were taken on for a specific job. The most important thing for me, though, is that the basic education brought confidence to my people. They saw themselves as more than just people worth only the amount they could produce. I did not know where this would lead, but I hoped it was towards a better future for all of us.
Now it was time to give the speech I had written myself.
“My friends;
Today is a good day. You have done something that no one can ever take from you—you’ve learned. You’ve proven that knowledge is not the privilege of the wealthy or the noble; it’s the right of every person willing to work for it.
You’ve completed all three tiers—reading, writing, and numbers. These may seem simple things, but they are the foundation of every trade, every craft, and every future worth building. The coin you gain, or the taxes you save for your efforts, are well earned. You’ve invested in yourselves, and in return, you’ve made our county stronger.
Remember, this is not the end of your learning. Whether you work the fields, keep the books, or teach others, what you know now is only the beginning. Keep your minds sharp. And keep asking questions.
I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished. And I thank you—not just for your effort, but for the example you’ve set for others.
Congratulations to you all. The first tier three graduates of the North Cove Education System.
In commemoration of this accomplishment, I am opening a small library in my home here in Cove Town to all the people of North Cove.”
This caused a cheer to go up. I had spoken about libraries and how great they were on several occasions. Some of the stories I wrote also had them in the books. This made it a familiar topic, though no one had ever seen one before. The Cove Town Library would only be a single shelf for right now. Most things would be fiction, but I had a few books about things I knew from back on earth. Hopefully, more of my people will begin to write down and share their own knowledge to add to the library. This would be the start of North Cove's own Library of Alexandria.
I also had a "What If" book and a "How Would You" book that would stretch the minds of the readers. The "What if" book would ask questions about discoveries already made on Earth. Things like "What if lightning were the same thing as a shock you get when you rub wool and then touch metal. The "How Would You" book had things like. If the world were round, how would you prove it or disprove it? Some things I might give hints towards the answers, while other things I would leave for them to discover. If a boy plowing a field could figure out the way to create television waves, then my people could figure out how to create an industrial revolution.
When the crowd died down again, we had a graduation ceremony as you would have at any high school, where I handed out a finally crafted wooden scroll case with a piece of our highest quality paper thickened to give it a bit more durability, containing their diploma. I would rather have used parchment than paper due to the fact that it would last longer. But the cost of parchment was extreamly high, and if this became a tradition, the cost of parchment would bankrupt me. The children were excited to receive the case and ran to show it to their parents. The adults wept when they received theirs.
It was an amazing event. It was short and simple compared to 21st-century standards. But there was so much pride and joy in the air that it made me feel that everything that I had gone through so far was worth it.
There was a small party afterwards for the graduates and their family members, after which things returned to the same day-to-day life these people had always had. Nothing externally had changed, but I had the feeling North Cove would never be the same.
*****
As if to prove that these people were hungry for progress, I received the results of the next meeting of the Reality Benders that had occurred yesterday. Some of it was boring to read, like the specifics of each experiment being run. Things like the gazillions of experiments they had run to figure out how to measure the precise amount of carbon in pig iron. Depending upon how much carbon there was, they could then find the exact amount of wrought iron they needed to add to make a consistent grade of steel. We did not have consistant results yet but it was getting close.
Lefty and a few others, after creating a new grinder, were experimenting with pouring water as they ground down the three basic materials. This led to them combining everything while still in liquid form and then letting it dry. After many experiments, they ended up. grinding each thing individually, then making those things into compressed cakes as they dried, so they had exact amounts. Then they would take those cakes and throw them all into a jug of water, stirring it until it was all broken down into a new slurry, and then drying it and compressing it into a new cake.
The result was an evenly mixed, easily transported black powder cake that had the same amount of each ingredient for each one. This made the experiments with the powder even more precise.
But it didn't stop there. The demolition team had now expanded out from just leaching guano to many other experiments. Right now, they were dumping everything they could into vinegar and watching to see what it would make. There was a several-step process to make a crystal out of chalk and vinegar.
When I say they tried everything, I mean everything. I almost didn't read the notes on what happens when someone decided to mix feces and urine, but I promised myself I would read everything thoroughly in case something jogs my memory.
These guys were crazy, but they were also very good and took things seriously. They wore masks and leathers and avoided fumes. Almost everything they did ended with zero results. Well, at least nothing we could figure out a use for yet, but some things actually made a difference. If vinegar were left to evaporate near copper, it would form a blue-green crystal on the surface. It turned out that after a few more steps, they could make blue ink.
Roger, our fuller, was still in Bicman, but he had sent one of his trusted people to Pine Ridge. The chemical was too harsh on most materials and didn't bind well, fading after a few washes but when he combined it with another dye and used what he called a moderator, like urine, it held very well and gave a range of unique colors. Things like turquoise and deep forest green. The one I was most excited about was a deep sea blue that shimmered in the light.
The weavers wouldn't even let them show it to me unless they first made me a shirt from it. It was my first button-down shirt. The weavers had made it from cotton and had the metal workers create brass buttons. The pyromaniacs hung the buttons over stale urine for four days, and the copper turned a blue-green that, when polished, complemented the Sea Blue shirt very well. I named the color North Cove Blue.
I was not looking forward to my impending meeting at the capital, but when I went, I would be going in style. It would be my own style, but still in style.
The next report was from the glass makers who had stolen the tempering idea from the smiths. They were not dunking heated glass in water. Rather, they would shape it and then heat it to a temperature below its melting point. Then they would use a bellows to cool it quickly. After that, the glass was stronger, but you could not do any other cutting or grinding without shattering it. They were still having trouble with the fine bubbles in the glass that made it cloudy. Fortunately, they were working alongside everyone else in Pine Ridge, and some ideas showed potential.
We were so close to making lenses, I could almost taste it. Windows will be amazing. We already had some prototype windows, which were bubbly and tinted green. Also pretty thick, and the pieces were so small they had to be cut and put into metal frames like stained glass mosaics, but the important thing is they let light in and kept the wind out.
We now had more fine measuring tools and blocks we could insert into the lathe, resulting in more uniform parts. With the blocks set into place and clamped down, it would make sure that the blades were a precise distance from the material they were cutting. After each cut, they were measured with the new calipers, and if anything was off, the block was measured to check for any misshaping. If not, then the workers had a checklist of other components that could be loose or vibrating. Everything was moving faster than I could imagine, and once we had more workers, it would only accelerate.
As I was reading through all these reports, a shout sounded from outside. There was always someone shouting about something, so I ignored it until a guard came running in. "The ship is back!" He said excitedly. I was on my feet in an instant and out the door. We raced to the docks and out onto the pier, where a crowd had gathered. People were shouting and cheering. Some waved their hands in the air as our ship returned home. It was not, however, the ship I was expecting. The Wind Chaser had not returned early; instead, the ship we sent to Carock was back.
I was pumped to see what we got from my dear Uncle, and if it was good or better than what John had proposed. With three ships having left our ports in the last forty days, I was fresh out of inventory, and most of what I received from Jarum and John were promissory notes. But this ship was coming home loaded with things we needed, so now it was time to look at our loot and see if we were going to be able to build my schooner.
Baron William Bolster
Baron Bolster strode into the court of his father without waiting to be announced. "We must speak, Father."
"Ah, my son has returned from his dreary wall. We must have a feast." Count Bolster declared to his court. Those sycophants that the baron despised so much all laughed.
The baron said nothing. He hated this place.
"Fine, fine. You are all dismissed."
Many of the count's sycophants gave disgruntled looks at the baron as they left.
"Son, why is it that whenever you come here, you must disrupt the atmosphere. You look like you have eaten a raw tula fruit," the count said wearily.
"Father, this is more important than discussing the latest fashion in Kimton. Baron Yarbeth is trying to interrupt our trade."
"Nonsense, that fat old coot is up north and busy minting coins. Where did you hear such rubbish?"
"I received a letter from Count Bicman of North Cove."
"Bicman, the name sounds familiar, but I do not recognize the County."
Truth be told, neither had William when he received the message. Of course, he at least had the excuse that he kept to himself. His father had not been wrong when he spoke of him staying near the old wall. He used the excuse that it was so that all the trade went well between the tribes and their county, as well as the ships that sailed down the eastern coast of the kingdom, to Mahador and sometimes beyond. The truth, however, was much simpler. He hated the courts of the upper nobility. It was all so complicated outside of his barony.
With the income from the Trading Port and Ander's fine cloth cushions, he made a tidy sum each year. His wealth expanded year over year, and his daughters would each have a large dowry. His son, William the Third, would inherit the barony and, in the future, the county. But now was not the time to think of his situation. The whole county would be affected by his news.
"Father, he is the count who paints the incredible pictures so highly valued in the kingdom."
This caused his father to sit up straighter. "Bicman, of course! Well, this changes things. And you have made contact with the painter?"
"He has written to you."
"To me? Then why do you have the letter?" Then the count's eyes lit up. "It came from the mountain folk, didn't it. He has a way through the mountains, and he wanted to prove that he could cut us out of the Northern trade! Yes, that makes sense. It would be cheaper since he is closer to the crystals. We would still be closer to some of the southern tribes' goods and the spices that grow out in the Barren Lands. But he could undercut us-"
William was tired of listening to his father ramble. "Father, he does not want to interrupt our trade. Apparently, Yarbeth is trying to seize his lands to access the pass. Count Bicman proposes a deal. He is looking for political allies, and so making another enemy does not help his cause."
The count laughed. "He wants to pit us against Yarbeth. The man may be an old coot, but he is a rich and powerful coot. I am not going to go to war with him even if it means giving up the crystals."
"He is not looking to go to war. We just need to be open about the fact that we are on good terms with him. This puts us in a difficult position. Yarbeth is not someone we want to go to war with. Even figuratively. I think we can declare friendship but nothing more unless Bicman is able to offer us something."
"Fine, you deal with anything concerning this matter, and we will go with this soft approach to the matter of Yarbeth on one condition. I must have one of his paintings," the count said firmly.
The baron smiled. "Then it is good that he sent you one as a gift."
"And you withheld it from me until now?"
"Just in case you needed extra convincing, Father. It was always meant for you."
"A shrewd move, William. I taught you well."
The baron wanted to roll his eyes. If there was one thing he hadn't gained from his father, it was shrewdness. William decided not to share the other trade goods Amos had sent along with the messenger.