by Perrin Briar
“As long as the town has been,” Lady Maltese said. “We’ve had to repair and rebuild it more times than we care to count. It requires uninterrupted wind, and the walls around our town are too high. The dragon seems to like using the mill as a chew toy. But we need our flour, so we keep on rebuilding it. That’s one of the things our inventor is working on, a kind of security device that will keep the dragon away if he gets too close.”
“He’s an extraordinary man,” Zoe said.
“The finest man,” Lady Maltese said. “There’s nothing he can’t come up with when he puts his mind to it.”
“A man like him doesn’t come along often,” Zoe said. “You should make sure to utilize him as much as possible—without wearing him out, of course. He could make a real difference here.”
“He already has made a difference,” Lady Maltese said. “He’s increased food production by thirty percent, and we’re looking at making even more next year. He’s also come up with a water filtration system, which will cut down on the number of illnesses the townspeople catch. And those are just two of his inventions. Every week he comes up with more.”
“Has he always been able to come up with inventions like that?” Zoe said.
“He has, but he’s producing them at a more prodigious rate now,” Lady Maltese said.
“Is there a reason for that?” Zoe said.
“He said he just woke up one day and could do these amazing things,” Lady Maltese said. “I don’t understand half of what he talks about, but whatever he touches, turns to gold.”
The mill was a large construction, its giant sails moving in lazy circles in the breeze. It was a gorgeous sight. Zoe dismounted from her horse and could smell the gritty flour being ground up. All thought of the Passage went out the window, disappearing with that smell.
“Wonderful, isn’t it?” Lady Maltese said. “It’s one of my all-time favorite places.”
They entered through a short door that Zoe had to duck her head down to fit through. A large woman with flabby chins greeted them.
“Hello,” she said with an unpractised bow. “My ladies. I’ve been expecting you. Where would you like to start?”
“Where would you suggest?” Zoe said.
They were taken on a tour of the building, starting from the bottom, and then working their way to the top. The large woman was very hospitable, giving Zoe items to taste test, and really knew her profession. Zoe could see there were no secret doors, no hidden passageways. No way the Passage was there.
They moved to the top of the building, where there was a narrow balcony for them to take in the view. The mill’s sails creaked as they moved round, the arms making rustling noises like a ship’s cracking sails in a strong wind.
Zoe breathed in the fresh air—cleaner, she thought, than any she had ever experienced. Cassie was right. This was the best world for them to live in that they had come across so far. If they couldn’t find the Passage, would it be such a bad thing? They could aid the inventor and make a real difference here.
Lady Maltese pulled on a woolly hat. It was of a simple design, red like wine. Zoe shivered, suddenly aware of the stiffness of the breeze.
“That’s nice,” Zoe said, nodding to Lady Maltese’s hat. “Did you make it?”
“I did,” Lady Maltese said, beaming happily.
“My great aunt used to do a lot of knitting,” Zoe said. “She would make things and then sell them to make a little extra money.”
“She must have been good, for others to pay for them,” Lady Maltese said. “I doubt anyone would want to buy mine.”
Zoe peered closer at the garment and frowned.
“That’s remarkable,” she said.
“What is?” Lady Maltese said.
“Your knitting ability,” Zoe said. “You haven’t dropped one stitch.”
“I’m sure there are some,” Lady Maltese said.
“No,” Zoe said. “I can spot them a mile away. It’s perfect. You must have taken a very long time to make it, to have to keep going back and fixing the dropped stitches.”
“I am very slow,” Lady Maltese said with a grin.
“My great aunt was good,” Zoe said. “She always complained when she dropped a stitch and it was too far back to do anything about it. She always showed me where she’d done it. She never could figure out why it happened, why then of all places. Often she had been running on autopilot, hadn’t been interrupted, her mind taken off what she was doing. But there it was, the dropped stitch.
“She would still send it to her customers anyway, of course. They wouldn’t ever notice it. But my great aunt always did. Despite all her years of knitting she never made a garment that didn’t have a dropped stitch, she said.
“But now that I look at yours, I can see that you don’t have any dropped stitches. You must be something of a perfectionist! Or a prodigy. Remarkable. You would have expected at least one.”
“It comes with practice,” Lady Maltese said. “And I’m sure there are many mistakes if you look close enough. We all have our skills, do we not?”
Lady Maltese was looking off into the distance, toward the town. She seemed preoccupied by something.
“I was thinking about Jeffrey, the inventor,” Zoe said. “I’m interested in how he comes up with such ingenious ideas.”
“It’s in his blood,” Lady Maltese said. “His father was an inventor, and his father, and so on, right back through the ages. But every so often, once in every great while really, there comes along a man—or woman—with a unique ability. He could be the joiner of men, or born with the skill to invest, turning five galleons from a single one in no time. Every so often there is a leap forward in ability, in strength, in creativity. And that is the inventor.
“Jeffrey’s ancestors were all unusual. Some were insane, pushing the limits of what we might consider normal behavior, others were equally deranged, but of a helpful bent. The good they did greatly outweighed the bad their relations performed. They served their terms and did good work, each slightly pushing the envelope forward in our society. But Jeffrey is entirely unique.”
“Can I see his workshop?” Zoe said.
“His workshop?” Lady Maltese said.
“Yes,” Zoe said. “The place he develops his inventions. To see how he works. I won’t understand most of what he does, but as your husband said, we might be working with the inventor until we leave. Probably best to introduce ourselves and show him we’re not complete idiots.”
“Yes, of course,” Lady Maltese said. “I’m glad you have an interest in such things. I myself have no such skill. It’s hard for me to understand how a woman could be interested in science.”
“There are many women scientists and engineers on the surface,” Zoe said.
“Extraordinary,” Lady Maltese said.
“The advancement of three hundred years of society,” Zoe said.
“It’s breathtaking,” Lady Maltese said. “But is it always for the best, do you think?”
“No,” Zoe said. “Certainly not. But in many cases, yes.”
A distracted smile alighted Lady Maltese’s face. Then she turned to look back out in the direction of the town.
“I hope we will also make such advances,” she said. “Without leaving anyone behind.”
It sounded like a pipedream to Zoe. Advances for some invariably resulted in decline for others. It was a nice dream to have, so long as the dreamer knew that was what it was: a dream.
26.
THE ORCHARD was large, signs of it beginning long before they reached the farm. Fruit trees grew in the streets leading up to the farm on all sides.
It was one of the few farms located within the town walls, Roland told Cassie. When she asked him why, he asked her to give herself the answer.
Cassie shrugged.
“Think,” Roland said. “You’re smart enough to figure it out.”
Cassie took a moment before shrugging her shoulders again.
“Are you alway
s this shy around guys?” Roland said.
Cassie glanced at him, and then looked away. She blushed. No, she was never shy like this with boys. She wasn’t a hussy, she had simply always gotten along better with boys than girls. The relationships were easier, simpler. If there was ever sexual tension and she sensed they might have been interested in her, she was quick to cut it short to avoid any problems.
If Cassie herself began to get the familiar stirrings of interest in one of the boys, she always took the time to get to know him first. Then she approached him, making it clear she liked him. It was best to be obvious, she’d found. Boys were oblivious to subtlety, except when they were making their own clumsy attempts.
“Maybe you’re used to feigning lack of intelligence with boys, but you don’t need to do that with me,” Roland said. “I like smart women. I guess it rubbed off on me from my mother. My tutor says we all eventually want what we were brought up with.”
Cassie’s face curled like she’d just bitten into a sour apple. It might have been true, but that didn’t make her want to think about it. She turned her mind to the reason for the farm within the protective walls.
“I guess you’d need it just in case of attack,” Cassie said.
A smile played across Roland’s lips.
“And why would that be useful?” he said.
“Because when you’re under attack, one of the most important resources you have, one that might mean the difference between success and failure, is the need to feed your people,” Cassie said.
She glanced at him again, and then looked away. She didn’t want to look stupid in front of him.
“That’s right,” Roland said. “You have a good head on your shoulders. We need a large stock of food in case we’re attacked by the dragon and can’t get out. It’s unlikely to happen now, of course, what with sacrificing the dead bodies to the dragon. It’s a hangover from the past when such attacks were common place. Now let me ask you another question…”
“Do we have to do this?” Cassie said. “I hate being tested.”
“This isn’t a test,” Roland said. “This is a question.”
“What’s the difference?” Cassie said. “When you already know the answer to the question, it’s a test. Isn’t that the difference between an innocent question and an exam? The fact those asking the questions already know what the answer is?”
Roland cocked his head to one side.
“Not necessarily,” he said with a smile. “It might be a question to validate what we think we know.”
He smiled a lot, and Cassie found it very distracting. Roland had one of the most beautiful smiles she had ever seen. It glowed, lighting up an entire room. It told you not to worry, that he would always be there to help you if you needed it. He would be a great lord.
They had reached the orchard’s front gates. Roland turned to their armed guards.
“Please wait here,” he said.
The guards nodded, bowed their heads, and stood outside the farm with hands resting on their sword hilts.
“You don’t need your security?” Cassie said.
“In town?” Roland said. “Almost certainly not. The people love my father. They wouldn’t want to harm him or his offspring. They want things to continue as they are.”
“Then why have them at all?” Cassie said. “You must admit, it sends a confusing message.”
“It does,” Roland conceded. “But we are English, and we love few things more than tradition. It might be outmoded, outdated, and unfashionable, but it is the way we have always done things. If we continue to do the things we’ve always done, there’s no reason we can’t continue to survive. And that’s tradition. Change is seen as dangerous. But have no fear. If someone does set upon us, we wouldn’t need my armed guards in any case. I’m exceptionally good with a sword.”
Cassie looked at the hilt of Roland’s sword sticking out of its scabbard.
“It’s encrusted with jewels,” Cassie said.
“Your powers of observation astound me,” Roland said.
Cassie glared at him.
“My point is, it is a show sword, meant to be gawped at by locals, not to be used,” she said.
Roland pulled his blade from its scabbard and laid the point across the back of his forearm.
“Is that real enough for you?” he said.
“Yes,” Cassie said. “But it doesn’t prove anything about your skill to use it.”
Roland blinked, startled. He replaced the blade and smiled at Cassie with his arms folded.
“You’re quite something, aren’t you?” he said.
Cassie wasn’t sure whether to take that as a compliment or not.
“It’s a good thing,” Roland said. “Most of the women here are…”
“Boring,” Cassie said.
“Consistent,” Roland said. “They’re cut from the same cloth and there’s little exciting about them. Nothing that sucks me in or makes me want to get to know them. Whereas you…”
He circled Cassie.
“You’re quite different,” he said. “Unlike any girls I’ve seen or likely to see here. Would you care for an apple?”
“Excuse me?” Cassie said.
The sudden change in topic had taken her by surprise.
“An apple,” Roland said, pointing at the glowing balls of red hanging suspended from the trees around them.
“Oh,” Cassie said. “Yes. Please.”
Roland reached up, went onto his tiptoes, and pulled a pair of apples free. Workers were inspecting the produce and picking the ripe specimens. They placed them in baskets almost overflowing with juicy fruit.
A strong wind whispered through the trees and made the leaves rattle. Some of the leaves snapped off and floated like confetti at the closing of a wedding ceremony, twisting and fluttering to the ground. The apple trees were arranged in long, seemingly unending, rows.
Cassie bit into her apple. It was bright red, juicy, and just about the most delicious fruit she had ever tasted. It was just the right mix of crunch and juiciness. She consumed the rest of the apple with hungry bites.
“Do you like it here?” Cassie said.
“It’s fine,” Roland said. “It’s relatively safe and there aren’t a lot of problems.”
“You don’t seem like the kind of person who would be happy in a small world like this,” Cassie said. “I could imagine you as a go-getter in a big city.”
“You think?” Roland said. “When you’re raised in a world such as this, the only one you’ve ever known, you don’t really think about it.”
“No, I suppose not,” Cassie said. “Which is why you should be allowed to try out the two and make your decision.”
“And you think being a go-getter in a city is better than a lord in a small town?” Roland said.
“I don’t think it’s better,” Cassie said. “Just different.”
“You were at the feast last night,” Roland said. “You heard my father offer his position to anyone who wishes to take it. Do you remember?”
“Yes,” Cassie said. “Has anyone ever accepted the challenge?”
“Yes, once,” Roland said. “The lord willingly gave up his power, and the challenger took it up.”
“What happened?” Cassie said.
“What do you think happened?” Roland said.
“Is this another test?” Cassie said with a frown.
Roland smiled.
“Sorry,” he said. “But how else do you think my father became lord?”
It took a moment for the comment to penetrate Cassie’s consciousness.
“Sorry?” she said. “What do you mean?”
“My father wasn’t born the lord,” Roland said. “And my mother wasn’t born to be the lord’s wife either.”
Cassie’s frown deepened.
“I’m sorry, you’ve lost me,” she said. “I thought that was how titles passed from one generation to another? By birth.”
“I guess it is the most logical thing t
o assume,” Roland said.
“How did that even happen?” Cassie said.
“It’s remarkable the things you can achieve if you put your mind to it,” Roland said.
“You’re telling me your father, the lord, was never born into his current position?” Cassie said.
She still couldn’t wrap her head around the information.
“That’s what I’m telling you,” Roland said. “Remarkable isn’t it? The opportunity was there, ready for anyone to come along and take. And then when someone finally did, my father did something remarkable, something no one, except my mother, believed he could do. It was him who came up with the idea to feed the dead bodies to the dragon. Everything he did was successful. It was like he was blessed and whatever he touched turned to gold.”
“The old lord must have been bummed,” Cassie said. “I would have regretted having that clause, letting someone else come along and take away all my power like that.”
“No, not really,” Roland said. “He’s a cobbler now. He’s much happier. Everyone says so. If he wasn’t, my father would find something in the castle for him to do.”
“Whoever came up with the idea for someone else to take over clearly never thought someone would actually step up to the plate,” Cassie said. “Otherwise they wouldn’t have created it.”
“And no one would have,” Roland said. “Until things went terribly wrong. The system was put in place to hold those in charge accountable, knowing that if they did a bad job someone else could easily take his position. The person taking up lordship only had humiliation to deal with. They had little else to lose, save face.”
“Why didn’t more people want to be lord?” Cassie said. “I know if I lived here a long time, I might want to try.”
“Because most don’t have the education to lead people,” Roland said. “People know this. People said my father was stupid for trying to be lord, that he would only end up shaming himself and my mother. But she supported him. Anyone can do it, it just takes time to learn how, just as it does with any job, but this time there are much fewer opportunities for failure, a sharp learning curve.
“If it wasn’t for both my mother and father there would still be people running around scared. It was because the dragon appeared and started terrorizing people fifteen years ago that my father decided someone needed to do something.
