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"But… please, my lord, I hope I haven't-"

"Not in the least, Sir Conrad. What's the use in having things if you can't share them with your friends? Just see that you don't take all of them with you as you ride away. Leave a few behind to train the next bunch. It's a bloody nuisance to have to do it yourself! Now, about your mystic equipage…"

So I got my pack and showed them how it was worn. I unrolled the sleeping bag, and Janina crawled in. The room was not heated, and she had to be freezing. The count played a long while with the zipper and eventually came to understand it.

"A wondrous device, Sir Conrad! Could you teach our smiths the way of this?"

"Perhaps, my lord, but not in the few weeks that I shall be here."

"I see. And this? This is your pavilion?"

"Yes, my lord. Oh, I almost forgot! I have a letter here for you. It was brought up from Hungary by Father Ignacy."

He glanced at the envelope and threw it to Janina. "Bring that to me sometime when I'm already in a bad mood. There's no point in spoiling a good one."

I set up the nylon dome tent on the wooden floor. It didn't require tent stakes. The count asked all sorts of questions about the tent and cloth and floor, the fiberglass poles, the snaps and zippers and mosquito netting.

"A veritable house! And so light!"

"Heavier than it should be, my lord. It's still wet. We'll leave it out."

We went through the rest of my things. The lightness of my canteen and mess kit surprised them, but otherwise there was no great impression made. They took a mild interest in the freeze-dried food, but I don't think they realized just how long those few grams would last. The Swiss army knife was considered an ingenious toy. They really didn't know what steel was.

My first-aid kit was treated with studied indifference by the count and Sir Miesko, at least. To worry about an injury was below their knightly dignity. The ladies showed some interestJanina was still in my sleeping bag-but seemed to feel it best to remain silent.

"And these parchment packages, Sir Conrad?"

"Seeds. I bought them as a present for my mother."

Sir Miesko was greatly taken with my compass.

"So this needle always points to true north?"

"Not exactly. There is some error, to the west. But it always points in the same direction, and if you take it out on a clear night and orient the card with the pole star, you will know the amount. Also, the presence of iron will throw it off."

"Of course. Cold iron always confounds the devices Of fairy."

"No, Sir Miesko! It was made by skillful men, knowledgeable in science. Science is the art of discovering the ways in which God made the world and has nothing to do with witchcraft."

"You swear this?"

"On my honor! Furthermore, if you like this compass, it is yours-my Christmas gift."

"Then on my honor, I accept, but keep it until this evening."

The sewing kit, especially the needles with their tiny holes, was met with great enthusiasm by the ladies. I knew what I would do about their four remaining presents.

I'd saved the binoculars for last. They caused quite a stir, with people taking them out of each others' hands. Finally, Count Lambert took them back from Janina.

"Girl, do you want to freeze to death? Get some clothes on!" He strode from the room, down the hall, and out onto a balcony, a part of the defenses. He spent some time adjusting the lenses and looking out upon his lands.

"Excuse me, Count," I said, "but I have not seen Boris Novacek all day. Do you know what has become of him?"

"He left at gray dawn with two of my grooms and five horses — It seems that you lost a horse and its baggage last night. They went out to find them." He swept the fields with my binoculars.

"And there they are, by God! Look! The snow is so deep that the men are forced to break through in front of the horses." He lowered the binoculars.

"No, by God! You can't look, can you? This is a wondrous device, Sir Conrad!" He raised them back to his eyes. "See! Two horses drag the dead war-horse behind them. On another, the baggage. Look-that shield! A black eagle on a red field! You got him, Sir Conrad!"

"I got who?"

"You killed Sir Rheinburg, a foul German renegade knight who has been looting and killing my merchants for more than a year. That black eagle has killed eight of my knights, slaughtered a gross of my commoners, and stolen God knows how many cattle! But you got the bastard, damn it, you got him!" Count Lambert was slapping my back with enthusiasm.

"At the time, it seemed a matter of simple necessity," I said.

"Ali, but now it's a matter of rejoicing! What's more, Sir Conrad, the bounty on him is yours-ten thousand pence, it stands at."

Richer and richer. Thinking about it, where was my pouch? But it would not have been polite to ask.

"You seem to appreciate my binoculars, my lord," I said.

"Appreciate them? They are things of wonder! What a difference these would make on a battlefield!"

"Then you have completed my Christmas list my lord. Please take them as my gift." Actually, since I had left my home in Katowice, six weeks earlier, I had used my binoculars exactly once and the compass not at all. Certainly they were small gifts for favors received.

Chapter

Chapter Eleven

With the Count's leave, I left him gazing out across his lands. I wanted to check on some things, and anyway, dinner was being skipped to leave an appetite for the feast.

My horse, Anna, was happy to see me. She was in a good stall in a big, clean stable, and she had been carefully groomed. "Are they treating you okay, Anna?"

She nodded yes.

"Anything you need?"

She shook her head no.

"Right." I didn't want to believe this.

Uneaten oats lay in the trough in front of her. I patted her neck and went in search of the kid I'd brought in.

Everyone in the bailey seemed to be hurrying about, getting last things done before the feast. Many were still in the plain gray wool that was everyday wear for most people, but some were already in their Sunday best, dyed in bright colors, with a great deal of embroidery.

Everyone seemed to know who I was. Passersby greeted me with smiles and nods. I had always thought of peasants as being brutally downtrodden, forced to grovel before their masters. I'm sure that that must have happened somewhere, but I saw none of it at Okoitz.

I was passing the mill when a man stopped me. He had a basket of food in one hand and a pail of beer in the other. "Sir Conrad? Could it be that you are looking for the child you saved?"

"In fact, I am."

"Then I shall take you there. I am Mikhail Malinski, and the child is with my wife."

"Then I am in your debt, Mikhail."

"No, Sir Conrad. It is I who am in your debt. Understand that two nights ago our third child died at birth. My wife grieved horribly for a day and a half. I thought it would be the death of her. But she's happy now. You understand?"

"I understand. We are in each other's debt. Let's see them."

"In a moment, sir. I have but a quick errand." He went inside the millhouse, and I followed. I was shocked by what I found. Four men were chained to a heavy "hourglass" mill, grinding grain to flour. It was the first brutal thing I'd seen in Okoitz.

"What's all this?"

"Why, the mill, Sir Conrad. Oh! You mean the men. These two were caught last week drunk, disorderly, and annoying some married women. They'll be here until the end of Christmas."

"This one's my brother. I always warned him about his poaching. He got six months for it."

"I wasn't poaching! I shot that deer on my land and tracked him to where they found us!"