"Well, yes, my lord. When I left for Cieszyn, you were distracted with the planting, so I thought it best to take my own money along."
"But you agree that the mills are mine?"
"Of course, my lord."
"Then I owe you your expenses. What were they?"
"The present fittings, plus those for the dry mill, the tubs for the factory and the dye, the mules, and the Florentine came to… uh… about twenty-three thousand pence."
"Twenty-three… Come talk with me in my chambers, Sir Conrad."
When we got there, he said, "Twenty-three thousand pence is a huge amount of money, Sir Conrad."
"Yes, my lord."
"Hmm. You wouldn't wager on your chess playing. Would you wager on your mill? I would bet you that your wet mill doesn't work. Double or nothing. Do you agree?"
"If you wish, my lord. But I'm stealing your money. The mill will work."
"We shall see. For now, come to the hall. People want to meet you. I should mention that throughout supper Sir Stefan and his father, Baron Jaraslav, have been damning you to all and sundry for a warlock and a witch! I believe they've called you everything but a Christian."
"Sir Stefan? But why isn't he on guard duty?"
"One of his father's other knights is doing his stint so he can be there to blacken your name. I don't like my vassals acting this way. I know it's not your fault, except had you been there they wouldn't have been so blatant about it. What the duke thinks is anybody's guess."
As we entered, Lambert whispered, "Here we go. Keep your temper!"
As we walked into the hall, conversation was suddenly muted. People had been drinking and socializing after a feast. Now half of them were staring at me, and the rest were obviously trying not to.
Bluff it through! I thought, shouting to myself. You can do it, you can do it-I think I can, I think I can, I think I can… Head high, smiling, I swaggered in at Lambert's side, almost convincing myself that I wasn't. scared.
Sir Vladimir saved me. Cutting through the crowd, he said, "Sir Conrad, what's this I hear about your attacking six thugs from the whoremasters guild and killing the lot of them?"
"Just lies, Sir Vladimir. There were only three of them, and I believe two lived."
A knight I hadn't met said, "You were completely unarmed when you attacked?"
"Well, yes. You see, there wasn't much time. A friend was in trouble, and had I gone back for my sword, well, who could tell what would have happened?"
"A friend of the whoremasters guild? Was she pretty?" a third knight said.
"Hardly. It was a he. The innkeeper of the Pink Dragon, although his wife was also being abused."
"But how was it possible for one unarmed man to defeat three with knives?" the second knight persisted. An interested crowd was gathering. Except for Lambert's ladies, this was an all-male group. They were all professional fighters, so by their standards anybody talking about bloodshed and mayhem had to be all right. I was winning!
"It wasn't three at once," I said. "I was able to get them one at a time."
"But even one man is hard to believe."
"Okay. Hang up your cloak and I'll show you." As I've mentioned, I'm no black belt, but I did learn a few simple throws in the service. With the sheath on his knife, we went through a few judo throws in slow motion.
I didn't actually reenact my fight in the hall of the Pink Dragon. I wasn't sure how these knights would react to kneeing someone in the groin, and I wanted to play the good guy. The first time you find yourself lifted into the air in judo is a memorable event, and it looks impressive. Three or four of them lined up to try me. The others were watching and drinking. I was becoming socially acceptable.
"You see," I said to a fellow in blue who was lying at my feet. "Had I thrown you down hard, you would be momentarily stunned. I could do all sorts of things to you. I could stamp on your chest, for example."
"Try me," a voice said from behind me.
I turned to find myself facing Duke Henryk the. Bearded.
"My lord it… it doesn't seem fitting," I stammered. Good God. He was my boss's boss, and he looked to be seventy years old. Not your usual judo partner!
"Try me," he repeated, holding his knife high with his right hand.
"Yes, my lord." Taking it slow and watching carefully to see that I didn't hurt him, I started through the same throw that I'd shown the others.
"Hold!" he said. I froze.
I felt a sharp prick at my ribs. Looking down, I saw that the duke held a dagger in his left hand. Where it had come from, I didn't know.
"What do you think now, Sir Conrad?"
"My lord, I think that had I met you in that dark hallway, I would be a dead man."
The room exploded in laughter, but it was laughter of a friendly sort. It was no dishonor to be bested by one's superior.
Contented, the duke sheathed his knives-one in his boot-and walked away.
The evening went well, I thought. Sir Stefan stayed to one comer of the room with his father and a half dozen knights. Sir Vladimir told me that they were the baron's liegemen. No hope of support there! I avoided them and circulated.
Conversation that evening centered mostly on hunting and hawking, so I didn't have much to contribute. Krystyana was a perfect hostess, and a lot of her newfound poise was rubbing off on the other girls, especially Janina, Natalia, Annastashia, and Yawalda. They were treated cordially, but they got a lot of side glances.
Later I found myself standing with Lambert and the duke.
"It's an interesting thought you've brought up, Sir Conrad," the duke said. "That it is possible for an unarmed man to defeat one who is armed."
"My lord, please understand that I am not a master of unarmed combat. I'm hardly an apprentice. I certainly believe that in a fight one is much better off armed. It is just that a warrior should remain a warrior even if he's naked."
"Interesting. You say you believe the obvious. Is there anyone who doesn't?"
"I've met one, my lord. He insisted that weaponry was unimportant compared to mental attitude and training. He was a master of the martial arts, a black belt from Japan."
"Ali, yes. It is said that you have traveled widely."
"Yes, my lord. Perhaps more widely than you can imagine. But I made a vow-"
"I know, son, and I won't push you. Still, a man must think. You, Lambert. Where do you think our Sir Conrad has come from?"
"My lord, I had not intended to speak on this, but since you ask, I must answer. Know that I have been watching this man carefully since Christmas. I have pondered long as to his origins, and I am confident that my guess is the right one."
"Then what is it?" the duke asked.
"I think that he is an emissary from Prester John, the Christian king of that most distant and fabulous empire."
Naturally, I was astounded by this. I'm not sure that I kept my jaw from sagging. Prester John!
"Remarkable," the duke said.
"Think about it, my lord. We have here a deadly knight who is distressed by the sight of blood. A master of the technic arts who didn't know how a smith makes iron. A man who treats warriors and children just the same. Where else could he have come from but the most civilized empire in the world?"
"Sir Stefan would say that he came from the Devil," the duke noted.
"There has been bad blood between them, my lord. I have explained"
"So you have. But why would Prester John send a man to us?"
"Perhaps because of the Mongols," Lambert said. "It is said that they have conquered half the world. Perhaps they press him and he is in need of aid."
"Then why didn't he send an emissary instead of an engineer?"
"Perhaps he did, my lord. Whatever Conrad's instructions were, well, I've explained the gist of his oath."
"So you have. Well, Sir Conrad. It grows late. We are hunting tomorrow. Will you join us?"