After two days spent writing, she took a day off to go see the blacksmith. The handsome young man was built like a large bookshelf. After about five minutes of drawing on the ground with a stick, he said he could make her several of the new metal quills she wanted, but he warned her that he wasn't used to doing such fine work and begged her not to have him executed if something wasn't quite right. Aliya thought for a moment and nodded. She would give him a chance. If he couldn't do it, she would find someone else who could.

A metal quill would be an improvement over a goose feather, and there would be demand for it. She also wanted to develop a non-spill inkwell, still primitive, but useful for merchants, sailors, and other travelers. The blacksmith understood and promised to make a prototype once he finished the quills. He could make plenty of inkwells; it wouldn't be difficult. Lillian smiled. She needed money to improve the estate, and while goose-feather pens looked pretty, they were awful to write with. She hoped if she patented her metal quills, she could really make some money.

***

"Countess, Father Vopler is here to see you."

Shoot! The priest must have heard of Etor's departure and come to see what was going on. If I know anything about the church, he isn't just here to look. He'll expect to go away with something.

Priests were no fools. In order to serve the church, a man had to be well educated for his time, with solid theological underpinnings and the ability to use psychological pressure, even bordering on hypnosis, to imperceptibly get information out of his flock.

It's game over.

She would have to keep the interview brief, or he would see through her. To the peasants, she was just a countess with a gigantic attitude. Emma may have guessed at more, but a priest was a different matter. What do I do? She needed to scare him, but not too bad, and without making him mad; he could come in useful later.

"Fine. Have him wait and give him something to eat."

"We have boiled vegetables, Countess. We also have buckwheat with meat and black bread, as you ordered..."

"Then give him that," Lily snorted. There was a gleeful twinkle in Emma's eyes. Everyone in the castle was on the same diet. Lily had even given the keys to the food storeroom to Martha. Her stomach thought it was a bottomless barrel, so she wanted to keep temptation at bay.

"Will you be changing clothes, My Lady?"

Lily sighed. She suspected that Emma was much more intelligent than she let on, and she probably had some ideas about her Lady's strange behavior. But advantage was stronger than curiosity. As long as people felt that they were better off with the new Lily, they would support her.

She couldn't afford to alienate this priest, however, or cause him to suspect that there was something strange about her. Medieval religion was a powerful force.

I have to humor him, but I won't give him any money. Not a chance! Lily believed that priests were like gypsies—once given a handout they would never leave.

"Call Martha or one of the girls to help me get ready." She sighed and headed for her closet to choose her most ridiculous dress.

It took about half an hour to put on everything she was supposed to wear. Lily was so nervous that she argued with the servant girl and stomped her foot. It shouldn't take this long to change clothes and leave my room!

What's my plan? I have to get rid of him and make him never want to come back here. What do men hate most of all? Tears and argument. It doesn't matter what year it is—a loud, highly strung woman is a force to be reckoned with.

Looking like a gilded wedding cake, Lilian sailed into the drawing room and locked eyes with Father Vopler.

***

He was an average male. Not bad, but not much to look at, either. His face had simple, serious features; he was well-built, and his hands looked downright aristocratic. Is he the son of a nobleman who graduated from university and was sent to serve the church in the sticks?

Lilian Earton's memory refused to be called up. She had never cared for trifling things like the village priest. After all, he wasn't edible.

Thankfully, Lily's body did its part automatically, lowering itself onto one knee and making the sign of Aldonai with the right hand.

"Give me your blessing, Father."

The priest slowly rose from his chair and put a hand on her head. "I bless you, child of light."

Lilian shuddered. Does he ever wash his hands?

Their greeting complete, both landed in the nearest chair, Lily heavily and the priest with more elegance. They looked at the table. There wasn't much to be happy about. The silver dishes held buckwheat with meat, slices of black bread, and a pile of sheep's milk cheese. The soup tureen was full of steamed vegetables.

Aliya considered it a perfectly acceptable lunch, but the priest was obviously dismayed.

"My child, I have heard strange rumors..."

Lily sighed. Her large eyes filled with tears. "Father, it was such a tragedy. Such a loss!" As soon as she remembered her parents, it was like a dam had opened, and tears ran down her face.

Lily told him about the awful estate Comptroller who had abandoned her, about the loss of her baby, about her husband who had left her without money, and about anything else she could think of short of a failed turnip crop. After ten minutes of this, the priest was bored. After twenty minutes, he looked depressed. Lily had no intention of letting him go that easily.

No, sir. You're going to sit here with me until you make yourself forget the road to my house. Even if I invite you back, you won't come. Lilian Earton might not have excelled at many things, but she knew how to throw a fit. Aliya used that talent in her own interests. All she had to do was start whining about her lonely life as an abandoned wife, and the rest of it came naturally. Lily didn't let the priest stand up, much less eat anything. She made a good show of sobbing. He tried to help her up, but she just slid to the floor and lay there holding onto the hem of his cassock (she considered using it to wipe her nose). Finally, the priest could take no more of her howling and crying, so he called for the servants.

Emma came in so quickly that she must have been listening at the door. She bustled around Lily, saying something along the lines of "Good Lord, look at how you've upset My Lady." Martha and Mary added to the confusion in the room, and the priest hurriedly made his exit.

As soon as his green cassock disappeared, Lilian stood up, dusted herself off and sent Mary out of the room to get some water for her to wash her face.

"Martha, stop jumping around me. Go see to things in the kitchen. Emma, dear, send someone to the village to see how the blacksmith is doing. We have so much to do, and we aren't making enough progress."

Emma looked her in the eye. "My Lady, you wanted to be finished by the autumn fair."

"I hope to do so." To herself, she thought, That priest had better stay away. I'm not ready for him yet.

***

"The fair, My Lady!"

"The autumn fair!"

Grain, animals, food of all kinds... In years past, Etor had been in charge of preparing for the autumn festival, but alas, he was no more. In fact, Lily learned that the peasants had found the bodies of Etor and his wife just after they left. Apparently, the wolves had gotten them. No money was recovered, of course.

After consulting with Emma, Lily decided to go to the fair in person. It would be held in Altver, a ten-day ride from the castle. Boats would carry goods from all over to the river port, and merchants would drive wagons overland to get there, as well.

The market at the fair was the place to buy anything and everything—from farm animals, grain and firewood to clothing, dishes, and jewelry. In addition to a traveling theater with minstrels and jesters, a wide variety of pickpockets and other thieves would also be in attendance.

After much consideration, Lily called together the elders of all the villages. She had a task for them.

***

They met in her office. It's actually my husband's office, but I'm assuming we have community property, right? Lily sat in the only chair. Five more stools were brought in for the elders. She had wanted to organize a roundtable, but Emma had tactfully vetoed the idea, saying she shouldn't put herself on the same level as the peasants. It was no use arguing.

Emma chose the food and drink, setting out five tankards of ale and a plate of bread and ham. Simple fare was good enough, and the men were glad to see it. Lily studied them discreetly. All five were enormous. Who said people used to be smaller? She was no down feather herself, but these men were huge. The largest two had broad shoulders and stomachs that rivaled Lilian's. The other three were smaller overall, but she could see they were all muscle and bone, without an ounce of fat on them.

Ian Leig, Art Virdas, Erk Grismo, Sherl Ferney, and Fred Darcy. She had to find common ground with these five men or die trying. She could have ordered them to do what she wanted, but she wanted them to feel that it was to their own advantage to help her. If they know they'll benefit from my plan, they'll forgive me my strange habits. She was a stranger in this world, and she needed the help of people who were born here. Her role would be to manage, provide financing and learn.

The men were in no hurry to eat the food set out for them. No one spoke, so Lily jumped right in. "Good afternoon. I wanted to see you because our affairs are in a bad state."

Their five faces became thoughtful. They obviously expected nothing good of her. She smiled as kindly as she could, like a friendly snake. A new commander always starts with a good dressing-down, just to get his men hopping. Then he shows them how useless they are without him.

"I understand that there are approximately twelve hundred people living in all of our villages. For convenience, let's say fifteen hundred, including all the women, children and old people."

The elders said nothing. Lily continued. "You have around three hundred people in High Wold, Ian. Art has two hundred in Appleton. Erk has three hundred in Riverton. Sherl has a hundred and fifty in Fiur, and Fred has about three hundred in Runstaf. Of the women, children and elderly, how many will survive the winter?"

The question cut like a knife. The men looked away from the Countess' bright green eyes.

"I see. How many died last winter?"

"I'd say about a hundred people," Ian rumbled. "This year, it will be no less than that. The little ones will die of hunger. They go first when the women's milk dries up. The men don't know where to get feed for the animals. If they feed them grain, they won't have anything to plant come spring. But if they slaughter the animals, they'll lose everything they have."

Lily's ears turned red, but she couldn't turn back now. None of this was her fault, and she was going to put a stop to it.

"So what have you elders been doing about it? You are supposed to protect your villages. Why didn't you come to the Earl or to me? I see you'd rather keep your heads down and say nothing and watch your children die of starvation, is that it?" Lily's voice rose to a scream. She remembered Perestroika like it was yesterday, watching her mother measure out the buckwheat from her father's rations to make sure it would last until the next distribution. She always ate less to make sure that Aliya got a little extra.

Countess Lilian Earton leaned over the table and glared at her guests. "You said nothing and waited. So, you'll just have to wait a while longer. Now, listen to me. We'll start with the soil. We can't afford to lose the soil, can we?"

It took Lilian ten minutes to explain the three-field rotation system. The elders began to glance around at each other. They realized that they weren't about to be executed, but Lilian's anger had gotten their attention. They could tell that she was restraining herself by force of will as she talked to them. Her restraint scared them. Anyone can yell, but it takes a true master to show restraint.

Finally, Sherl spoke up. "We don't have enough grain for that."

"True. We'll buy grain at the fair. If we're choosing between wheat and rye, I suggest wheat. We'll divide the land into two parts: one for wheat and the other for oats and barley. Next year, we'll clear more fields and plant them with wheat. This year's wheat fields will grow oats and barley, and the fields where we had oats and barley this year will be left to rest. We'll plant grass, and pasture the animals on them. The fields need to rotate like that every year. If we're able to buy extra seed, we'll find a place to plant it."

"We are low on oats," Art sighed. "And we sold all our fruit to merchants for next to nothing just so that blood-sucker wouldn't take our daughters. I have three of my own, and two sons."

Lily sighed. "We'll buy grain at the fair. And we'll buy cattle. Good cattle, not those skinny cows you keep."

"How are we going to feed them? On prayers?"

"You're right about that. We'll have to buy feed this year. Next year, we'll have our own grain stores. And I'm canceling your taxes and your fieldwork obligations this year, but only for this year. I'll collect after the next harvest—one-tenth of the whole harvest. Next year, we will turn my fields that you've been working into pasture for the cattle and let it rest. Let's talk about the fruit trees. Emma says that most of the orchards are in Appleton; is that right Art?"

"Yes."

"Who takes care of them?"

"We all take turns."

"And seven nannies let the baby drown. Here's what you do. Choose two families to oversee each orchard. Make that three families. Tell them to do a good job, or I'll have them whipped. If the trees do well and the fruits are harvested carefully at the right time, I'll pay them a silver coin each month. At the end of every month, I will inspect the orchards and pay them. Will that take care of the orchards?"

Art nodded; of course, it would.

"The same goes for all the other orchards by Fiur and Riverton. Next item. I plan to buy several cows for each village. I'd like to get some bulls, as well. Do you have anywhere to keep them?"

The men glanced at each other.

"I see. You will fix up your cow sheds and insulate them against the cold. I'll come out later to inspect. I won't give you the cows if you're just going to let them freeze or get eaten by wolves. The same goes for your goat sheds. I want to see at least a hundred goats in each village. Fix up the henhouses while you're at it." The men nodded.

"Next item. I want to have fish ponds dug in Riverton next year. We'll use the ponds that are already there. They just need to be cleaned out before we put fish in. Carp will do well. And each village should have about thirty pigs. That's just to get through the winter so that no one slaughters any cows. We want to keep the cows and goats for breeding and milk. You can keep a few pigs for breeding and eat the rest. When we buy grain, we'll get enough for seed and for feed." Again she paused to see that they understood.

"Good. We won't have any trouble on the way to market, but we'll come back as a caravan for security."

Fred, who had been silent so far, spoke up. "My Lady, what about the cost?"

Lily nodded. "A cow costs around eight silver coins. A pig costs three. That's for a good, young sow. We'll see when we get there, but it might do better to get shoats and feed them. I'm not sure, yet. We'll have to do the math. All I can do now is estimate. We'll see the actual prices when we get there."

Based on her estimates, Lily thought she had just enough money, barely. And she had some ideas about where to get more. She had found some of Lilian Earton's old letters and was working on forging her signature. She would write to her husband and tell him that if he didn't send her some money, then she would come to live with him in the city. That should make him feel generous.

The blacksmith had already given Lilian her inkwells. If they sold, that would bring in a little money. They looked good, but they were too simple, and she didn't have enough of them to turn a profit before others started to copy them. Large-scale manufacturing didn't exist, and she had no idea where to start to get a patent.

Then there were her dresses. The fair was the perfect place to sell them. They were all expensive silk, with gold embroidery and pearls. Better yet, each of them had enough material in it to sell for the price of three dresses. Lily decided to take her jewels with her, too. If she ran out of money, she could always hock or sell them. With babies in danger of starvation, she couldn't care less about her fancy jewelry. She'd buy herself something nice next year if the estate turned a profit. Farming required investment if she wanted to see a harvest, so Lily was prepared to spend some serious cash. What worried her was how to get all the purchases back home safely.

At least a ten days' trip—that was nothing to sneeze at. And it was only ten days if they went at a good pace on horseback. How many miles is that? Oh right, they haven't invented miles yet. Or meridians, either! It will take longer if we're driving cattle. How many herders will I need to drive a herd of cows? I need people to feed the animals and guard them, too. I bet everyone between here and the fair would like to get their hands on some free cows. And there's so much that needs to be done here before we bring all those animals back. She decided to leave the organizational issues to the elders: who, how, what, and how much. If they wanted to benefit from her goodwill, they would use their hands and heads to get the work done. In the process, she would see who the hardest-working was.

The cows weren't really a gift—they would eventually have to pay her back. When she made this clear, the men lost some of their enthusiasm and started hinting about their hungry children. Lily kept her temper in check but explained in a sweet voice that if anyone lost a child to hunger that year, she would blame the father for being stupid, lazy, or greedy. She didn't need men like that in her villages and wouldn't be surprised if they ended up as crow feed. If they were looking for a handout, Lily told them, they had the wrong countess. She was barely making her own ends meet, but she'd be glad to help anyone who wanted to invest sweat equity in fences and a cow shed in order to keep one of the cows she would buy.

It was evening by the time the meeting broke up. Before they left, the men suggested what looked like a good plan. Instead of driving the cows overland all the way back from the fair, they could take them up the Earta River most of the way and then make the rest of the trip as a caravan. It would still be dangerous, but less so.

Lily wasn't sure. Where would they get that many boats? And if the Earta was safe for navigation, why weren't there any villages along it?