"Ha! That'll set the bishop down a peg. Now tell me the whole story the long way, and tell it loud enough for everyone to hear!"
One didn't argue with the duke. Direct orders are direct orders, and Lady Francine was going back to France soon, so she wouldn't be embarrassed by the publicity.
The crowd was suddenly quiet, so I said in a loud voice, "You know, your grace, that Lady Francine was the granddaughter of a bishop in France. She was brought up in a proper household and had every expectation of making a good marriage, being one of the most stunningly beautiful women I've ever seen. But when the Church's Gregorian reforms were put into effect there, forbidding the marriage of the clergy, the barbarous laws of that foreign land decreed that she was suddenly illegitimate! The best that she could do was to marry a poor young priest from Poland, where the Gregorian reforms have not been approved. If there was a dowry, I've never heard of it."
"That is to say, they went through the legal and holy ceremonies of marriage, but whether it was truly a marriage or not remains to be seen. Lady Francine and Father John came to Poland and lived for several years as man and wife as far as anyone could see, but there was a problem."
"To put it as simply as possible, Father John was not physically capable of making proper love to a woman. He, ah, couldn't get it up."
"They lived with this horrible situation for years, but eventually they quarreled. She knew that she wasn't really married, for a marriage must be consummated to exist. She left him and came to work at my inn at Three Walls to earn passage money back to France. Many of you know that a woman must be a true intact virgin to work there as a waitress. I operate inns, not houses of prostitution. The innkeeper's wife physically checks for the presence of a hymen. Lady Francine qualified."
"Father John found her, tried to drag her back to Okoitz, and pulled a knife when she refused. She hit him with a stool in defense, for the uniform she wore was nearly nothing at all and she carried no weapon with which to defend herself."
"To the surprise of all, this blow killed him. I came to Wroclaw to deliver proof of all that I've said to the bishop."
The crowd's reaction was mixed. Some, headed by Prince Henryk, were shocked and more were feeling sorry for Lady Francine, but half of them shared the duke's contempt for the clergy and thought the tale hilarious.
"That's rich, boy! So now the priest's wife is tending commoners at an inn, and doing it near naked besides!"
"That was her choice, your grace. Are you familiar with the Pink Dragon Inns?"
"Yeah, stopped at the one in Cracow. Had to pull rank just to get in, it was so crowded' When are you going to build one for us here at Wroclaw?"
"This spring, your grace, with your permission."
"Permission? Boy, you have orders! Just pick a site and I'll see that you get it. What sort of taxes are you paying at Cracow?"
"Between the town council and the Bishop of Cracow, about one-sixth of profits, your grace."
"Well, I run this city, and that's what you'll pay to me. If the bishop's men give you any trouble, you send them to me."
"Yes, your grace."
"You going to send us Lady Francine when you get this inn built?"
"If you wish-, your grace, I'll tell her that you requested her presence here. You understand that she's not sworn to me and I can hardly order her to come. But until the legal matter is solved, I've forbidden her to leave Three Walls."
"Well, don't worry about that, boy. I'll be responsible for her. The bishop can hardly object if you follow my orders. Was this inn the second matter you wanted to talk to me about?"
"No, your grace. The second matter concerns something far more profitable. But I think it's best talked about in private."
"As you wish, boy. See me tonight after the festivities."
After a seven-course meal that was a little overspiced for my taste, a company of clowns and jugglers entertained us for an hour, but the routines were a bit too coarse for me. The highlight of their act was a two-man "horse" routine which ended with the horse shitting on the polished stone floor in front of the duke's table. He thought it was marvelous, and tipped them well. The man who had to clean up the real horse turds looked less amused. The clowns were followed by some dancing, mostly waltzes and mazurkas, a craze which I had inadvertently started myself. At least it was better than the half punker-style stuff they were doing before. I was demonstrating a polka, still in my plate armor, when I saw the duke leave. I bowed out shortly after that and was directed to the duke's chamber.
I stayed at the doorway and said, "Your grace, were you serious last time about not wanting formal courtesies in private?"
"What? Of course not! I want you to grovel so that I can act magnanimous and tell you not to. Now bow and get it over with!"
"Yes, your grace." I gave him my deepest bow.
"Smart-aleck kid. What's this you wanted to talk to me about, and sit down, dammit."
"Yes, your grace." I sat and he pushed his gold wine cup toward me. It was the same one that he was drinking out of. In offering it he was doing me a considerable honor, local customs being what they were. I took a long pull from it. To not do so would be an insult to the duke. I just hoped that he hadn't spit in it.
"Now, what's this you wanted to talk about?"
"You know that I come from the future, your grace."
"Of course. I told you that I worked that out of your priest. So?"
"So in the twentieth century, Poland is one of the world's largest copper exporters, whereas right now, what with all the copper my brass works has been buying out of Hungary, We might be one of the world's largest copper importers. A lot of Polish money is going into Hungary, and making King Andrew rich."
"Huh. Andrew has been less than polite to me lately. So where is this ore at?"
"Maybe fifteen miles outside of Legnica. I'll have to find the exact location and find out who owns the land."
"You've already done the second, boy. The lands for forty miles around Legnica have been in my family for centuries. So I own copper. What do you want out of it?"
"Well, if I could lease the land, your grace, what if I paid you a sixth of the profits in taxes?"
"A sixth, hell! I should get only one-sixth of what I already own? I'll give you a third for finding it and getting a smelting operation going."
"But your grace, the cost of setting up an efficient mine, factories, and other buildings will be very large. It will take hundreds of thousands of pence. If I'm to pay that…"
"So who says that you are? We'll do it on my lands and they'll be my factories and mines. I just want you to run them for me, the way you built those clothmills for Count Lambert. He's making a fortune off them, or he would if his Hungarian wife didn't get half the cash he rakes in."
"Interesting, your grace. I'd often wondered why Count Lambert was always so eager to bargain or bet with cloth, but not with money."
"Well, now you know. Well, do we have a deal?"
"Do I have complete control of the whole operation?"
"Hell, yes. Do you think I'd want to dirty my hands with commerce? You do things your way, and I'll leave you alone, just so you turn in a good profit after the first year."
"The workers would be as well taken care of as those at Three Walls? And they would all be sworn to me?"
"It's a waste of money, but yes to the first question. And you wouldn't get much out of them if they were sworn to somebody else, so yes to the second. Anything else you want to steal from an old man?"
"Tariffs, your grace. There will be a lot of transportation going on. We'll be taking coke from Three Walls, hauling it by mule and barge and mule again to the mine, smelting the copper there, then hauling the copper back to Cieszyn. There are eleven toll booths along that route. Can anything be done about it?"