Chapter 12

Eight days after sending my ultimatum to the Archbishop of Reims, a scout rushed in with word that the Archbishop would arrive shortly. I sent word to Archbishop Clairvaux.

My first impression of the Archbishop of Reims was not favorable. I pegged him as a pompous, self-indulgent, strutting peacock. Gilded with gold, his coach seemed intended to beg highwaymen to stop it. The uniforms of his small cadre of guards were so fancy that I wondered about their ability to fight effectively if he were attacked.

Having witnessed his arrival, I retired to the Great Hall to await him. Had he been less pretentious, I would have waited and greeted him in the courtyard. Now I intended to take him down a few notches.

He was stunned when my guards only referred to him as “the Archbishop of Reims” when they announced him, refusing any of the more elegant superlatives he expected. The battle of wills began as he approached, expecting me to bow to him since he was a religious leader. He forgot that he wasn’t the leader of my church. Finally, he grudgingly made a tiny motion, which could almost be considered a bow, and I motioned for him to approach.

His list of demands had grown from the previous list, and I listened patiently. When he finished ranting, I motioned to one of my pages. “Send a message to Rand telling him to destroy the biggest church or Cathedral in whatever town or manor he is currently in and send the stone here for us to use,” I said calmly.

The Archbishop exploded, sputtering, and warning me of the dire consequences in the afterlife for my actions as the page left to carry out my orders. I sat calmly, watching him make an ass out of himself until he simply ran out of steam. In the silence, he stood there sheepishly, unsure of what to say or do.

“Are you quite finished?” I asked sarcastically.

“Yes,” he answered curtly, glowering at me.

“Do you intend to remove the four men from their office of bishop?” I asked.

“I will not,” he answered defiantly.

I stood and motioned over the other page over. “Tell Rand to destroy every building owned by the Catholic Church in the captured area and have the stone sent here to build with,” I ordered as I stood and strode from the room.

“Please escort the Archbishop back to his carriage and then out of the city,” I told the guards at the door as I left, leaving him standing nearly alone in the room, teeth and fists clenched in rage.

I went to find my kids since I hadn’t spent much time with them lately. A short time later, a messenger came and told me the Archbishop was willing to sign the documents I wanted. “Good, have him sign them and then bring them here to me,” I instructed the messenger. It took quite a while before he showed back up. I was in the middle of helping my wives feed the little ones, well, the ones not still completely attached to their mother for meals.

I let the Archbishop cool his heels for a little longer until John finally decided he’d had enough. Only then did I turn my attention to the fuming Archbishop and read the documents he signed and had brought to me. Satisfied, I dispatched one of the guards to counter the orders I just issued a while ago. Prior to the arrival of the Archbishop, I warned everyone in the hall not to do anything I said unless I added “immediately.” They were, however, to act just like they were doing it, including going to find a messenger to dispatch just for show.

“I would like to see everything that was removed from the cathedrals,” he said in a tone and manner meant to make you feel as if you were someone beneath his position.

“No. You came to my home, yelled at me, spoke to me as if I were a commoner, and challenged me in front of my men. For that, you may not see them.”

“I won’t pay £50,000 unless I see them,” he challenged.

“First, your rude behavior has caused the price to go up to £80,000 plus your carriage. Secondly, you will have to take the word of Archbishop Clairvaux or one of your guards about the condition of everything. Of course, I’m sure the Anglican bishops would love to have everything to adorn their cathedrals,” I taunted.

“How can I afford £80,000? The poor in the parishes will suffer this winter,” he whined. I was impressed; he could actually sound like he cared.

“Send me your widows, your orphans, and your indigent. I will gladly see that their needs are met. In addition to food, shelter, and clothing, we will provide husbands for the widows, parents for the orphans, and jobs for the poor.”

“How am I supposed to get home if I leave my carriage?”

“If you leave a guard here to look after everything we have in storage, there will be an extra horse you can ride,” I answered coolly.

“Fine, £80,000 and my carriage,” he huffed, almost glaring at me. “I will leave Jacques to watch everything,” he said, motioning to one of his men who bowed in acceptance. “Since I have agreed to your terms, might I be allowed to at least stand in the open door and look inside the warehouse?” he asked, almost sounding desperate to verify that we really had saved everything.

“Since you asked politely, I will accompany you there myself and let you look,” I answered. After hugging the kids and kissing my wives, we took our leave and rode over to the large warehouse. It was nearly impossible not to laugh at the Archbishop as he rode over on a horse. I could only guess that it had been years since he had ridden a horse, and I had to stifle laughter every time I thought about him riding back to Reims. His ass would hurt for a week. At least.

My two guards at the warehouse handed me the book listing each church and what we had brought here from that church. It also listed which section of the warehouse it was in, which row, and the item number we had assigned to it. When I let the Archbishop see it, he hurriedly skimmed through to the pages with the items from the cathedral in Beauvais. He quickly found what he was looking for and his finger halted at the entry, “1 large leather-bound and illustrated bible with gilded edges.” A deep breath of relief escaped his lips.

“If you wish, I will have the men bring the bible out and you may take it with you as a good-faith gesture,” I told him.

“I would appreciate that very much,” he said excitedly. I went in with one of the guards to get the bible. In reality, I wanted to see what was so special about this bible. I thought there might be a hiding place for money or jewels in the book, so I leafed through it quickly. It was an impressive book, nearly two feet by three feet and a foot thick. The most interesting thing, though, was a single, handwritten note on a separate sheet near the back of the book. In two columns was a list of the names of every noble and member of the clergy in northern France. They were listed either in a column supporting King Philip or supporting the Church. The list also had a count of how many troops each noble had at his disposal.

“I’m going to send someone to copy this list. When he’s done, have the book and the original list delivered to the Archbishop and have the copy brought to me,” I quietly told the guard with me.

“I’m afraid they will have to move some of the things to get to the book. I’ll send men over right away and will have the book delivered to you as soon as they retrieve it,” I explained to the Archbishop when the guard and I got back to the door. Grudgingly he accepted my explanation and offer and left for Archbishop Clairvaux’s residence to spend the night.

“Bring my scribe here immediately and have him copy the list in the back of the bible,” I told one of the men who had arrived with me. “Get twenty more men to help guard the building tonight,” I told another.

A lone guard and I made our way back to the castle. I had left the rest of my entourage to help guard the warehouse. My scribe brought me a copy of the list sometime later. I had him make yet another copy, and sent one to King Philip with a note:

I instructed the messenger to dress like a fisherman, and to go by fishing boat up the Seine just in case we were being watched.

The Archbishop and his entourage left early the next day, leaving Lt. Jacques Boiteaux to supervise the items arriving and being stored. I permanently replaced the guards who had been there last night so they couldn’t accidentally slip and let him know anything about us finding the list. I gave the Archbishop a small cart they could pull behind one of their horses to carry his luggage and the bible. He thanked me again for letting him have the bible before they left. I snickered behind his back as they rode away, watching him shift uncomfortably in the saddle.

Pease, my purchasing agent finally caught up with me today, congratulating me on my new acquisition. He had a sword he was sure I would want. “I know how fond you are of innovation and new ideas or improvements,” he said as my guard handed me the strange-looking sword.

It was as long as my father’s sword, but not nearly as wide. Rather than a straight blade, it was curved slightly, but not nearly as much as the swords the Iberian troops preferred. The handle was long enough to grasp with both hands and the entire sword weighed less than half what my father’s did. “It was purchased from a trader in China. It originally came from a small country off the coast of China known as Japan. Even though it’s thinner and lighter, the blade is actually stronger than the ones we use,” he explained.

I was definitely intrigued, enough to pay the £20 he was asking. “Would it be possible to get more of these, or would it be possible to acquire a few of the weaponsmiths who know how to make them? I am willing to pay them handsomely to come here and work for me.”

He agreed to try, and I gave him a £2,000 deposit in addition to paying for all the silk thread he had managed to acquire on this trip.

His next offering was far better. After riding well away from town, he demonstrated a powder that had been invented in China. It was packed inside a strange wooden tube about six inches long and four inches in diameter; the explosion blew dirt and small rocks a hundred feet away and left me shaking.

“I found a very interesting group of Chinese expatriates in Alexandria. Several families paid to escape China and the advancing Mongols. They didn’t realize that the Mongol Empire had spread clear to the Mediterranean and were out of money well before they were safe. To save the rest of the family, they sold their older daughters to the caravan master to raise enough money to get them all the way to Damascus.

“I found the families trying desperately to find jobs, hoping to earn enough to be able to buy back their daughters before they were sold off. When I learned about everything they know, and about their daughters being sold as slaves, I knew you would be interested so I bought all of the girls and paid for them and their families to come here,” he explained as he handed me a parchment notice, which had once been posted somewhere. The top half was in Arabic, and I didn’t even recognize the symbols. The bottom half was in English.

______. ______

SLAVE AUCTION

In front of this office.

Monday the 7th at 10 a.m.

10 LIKELY CHINESE GIRLS

Ranging in age from 11 to 16.

All 10 are guaranteed virgins.

All are accustomed to house and garden work.

All are sound and capable of doing a full day’s work.

The girls will be available for inspection shortly

before the auction.

Conditions: 1/2 cash payable at end of auction. Remainder

due upon verification of physical condition and virginity.

Girls will be sold individually or as a lot.

______. ______

“Just what do the families know?” I asked. I knew Pease well enough that I didn’t think he was trying to cheat me, but I couldn’t imagine any group of families could know so much more than we already did. Boy, was I wrong.

“One of the men knows how to make this powder,” he said slyly.

“How much for all of them?” I asked. Just the ability to make this powder was worth it.

“£1,000, barely more than it cost me. I’m making you this deal because you are my best customer and I know how much you appreciate innovative ideas.

“I’ll pay it, but I can’t imagine it cost you nearly £1,000,” I answered. He showed me the bill of sale. Evidently, someone bid against him aggressively, and really wanted the girls, driving the price up to an extravagant £500--more than four times the normal price.

I also didn’t realize just how many people were included. There were twelve families involved, but only ten older daughters because two of the families were young. Since those two families didn’t have anything to offer, the Caravan Master demanded the two young wives each spend two nights a week with him until they got to Alexandria. In addition to the ten older girls, there were eleven younger girls, and twenty-four sons of varying ages.

“I am also including two brothers as translators who speak English and Arabic. The brothers owed a great deal of money and were offered with ten-year indentures by the man to whom they owed the money. The Chinese families learned a lot of Arabic during the trip which is good since nobody I could find available to purchase understood English and Chinese,” he explained.

I sent for Isabella and Gisela since they spoke Arabic. I wanted to see how accurate the translators were. Hearing that I had just bought ten Chinese girls who were slaves, my wives descended on us to look over the new prospects. I still couldn’t believe they actually looked forward to adding new women to our bedroom.

It was simple to tell the group was frightened as we approached. Pease introduced me to the two translators, Samad and Baha. “Please tell them they are all safe now and nobody will be a slave. Nobody will be required to have sex. I will provide everyone with jobs and a place to live so they can work off the debt,” I told Samad.

Isabella nodded surreptitiously when Samad had finished translating. “I’m sure they have questions, but for now, let’s retire to the castle,” I suggested. The Chinese women watched wide-eyed as my wives re-mounted their horses, not used to seeing women outside of China riding. They had intended to walk until I told them that riding in the wagons was faster. I temporarily appropriated wagons to carry everyone and their belongings to the castle. The men chose to ride horses, riding protectively alongside their families.

We invited our guests in to share a late lunch with us and their heads swiveled back and forth as they took in the sights inside the castle. They chatted animatedly, albeit quietly, amongst themselves in Chinese while we ate. Their language and its almost musical tone intrigued me.

Afterwards I tried to get to know each of the men. Ru, the man who could make the exploding powder tried to explain what he would need. The sulfur and charcoal were no problem, but I didn’t really understand his explanation about washing rotting manure. I promised him whatever he needed to begin making the powder. Evidently, he made fireworks in China, something he explained were used for celebrations.

One interpreter was actually a doctor who had been taken advantage of by two men. They had swindled his brother and him out of their money and left them owing a great deal of money to yet another man. All he had with him were his books, medical instruments, and clothing. All his brother had were his clothes. I promised them it was all they would need to start a new life here.

Three families in the group were farmers and had seen the differences between the way they grew food in China and the way everyone along their route grew crops. In China, they got much larger yields by growing the crops in straight rows rather than broadcasting the seeds haphazardly across a field to sprout wherever they landed. The Chinese way allowed them to use a hoe to weed around the plants much more efficiently as well as allowing for irrigation between the rows.

Their plows were much more advanced than ours were, turning several furrows at once, but requiring several horses or oxen to pull them. That would let us plow fields much faster.

Winnowing rice and other grain was more efficient using a pedal-driven fan rather than just using the wind. People could even winnow grain indoors on days when there was no wind or when it rained. Fewer women would be required to winnow the same amount of grain with this tool.

Another family was into agriculture of sorts. The husband tended the white mulberry trees used to feed silkworms and the wife cared for hundreds of thousands of the worms every year. They managed to bring four small, potted, trees with them as well as several pounds of seeds for the trees. She smuggled out several cocoons when they left. The cocoons had hatched during their journey and the adult moths mated and laid more eggs. When they hatched, they had let twenty caterpillars grow and then they chose the strongest ten. Those ten matured and spun cocoons that hatched. Their offspring had already spun cocoons and were nearly ready to hatch.

The couple was familiar with all aspects of making silk, as were the other Chinese members of the group. Unraveling the cocoons and then spinning the silk was a common pastime during the winter or rainy season when they couldn’t do much else. Even children learned how to unravel the cocoons once they were old enough to have the necessary patience.

The next couple raised and harvested paper mulberry trees. Right before winter, the branches of the trees were all cut off, leaving only the trunks. Like unravelling the silk cocoons, the branches of this tree were processed during the winter. The inner bark was separated, and part was used for making a fine white paper; the rest was used for making a coarser paper. They brought along a basketful of seeds hoping to find somewhere to grow them so they could begin making paper.

One of the older men, Kun, asked to be allowed to fight one of my men in hand-to-hand combat to demonstrate his skill. After removing his weapons, one of my guards tried to hit the man but quickly found himself on the floor staring up at the ceiling and wondering what had just happened. A second, more cautious attempt produced the same results. When the man spoke, Samad translated. “I can teach your soldiers to fight much more effectively,” he offered. I nodded my assent.

“I can show your people how to use the abacus to keep track of your money, crops, livestock, and anything else you wish to track,” Fu, another of the men offered after removing a wood square containing several wood rods filled with beads. Pease assured me it was indeed a fast and efficient system. He used one.

San, the next to last man, was a blacksmith who could make steel stronger than any available in Europe. He would need iron, coal, charcoal, and lots of clay to make furnaces. I promised all he needed, knowing that I could get iron and coal from Lancaster and York if nowhere else.