were paid in cloth, and everybody was happy. But I get ahead of myself.
Chapter Twenty
Count Lambert returned on the morning of May 1, which was yet another holiday. With him were about thirty knights and a number of dignitaries, one of whom was Sir Stefan's father. I thought it best to leave Lambert with his guests until I was summoned.
In the early afternoon I was watching an archery competition; the peasants were shooting at targets about fifty yards away with a skill that was about equal to that of modern archers.
Suddenly, Count Lambert was standing beside me. 'Well, Sir Conrad, are you going to teach us the proper way to shoot arrows?'
'Not I, my lord. But I know a man who could.'
'Indeed? And who is this man?'
I told him the story of how Tadaos the boatman had shot the deer.
'A single arrow into a deer's head at two hundred yards from a moving boat? You saw this yourself?'
'Yes, my lord, and helped him eat the venison.'
'Hmm. I could use such an archer to train others. Could you get him here?'
'I could write Father Ignacy and ask him to tell the boatman of your needs. Perhaps he will come.'
'Do so. I will affix my seal to the letter. Now then, I have talked to this Florentine cloth worker you sent me. Does he really know his trade?'
'I think so, my lord, but we won't know until we see his cloth.'
'Hmm. You swore him to yourself. Would you transfer his allegiance to me?'
'Gladly, my lord. I engaged him for you. But could I ask a favor in return?'
'Name it.'
'There's a boy here, Piotr Kulczynski. I would like him to swear to me.'
'Certainly, Sir Conrad, if the boy and his father are willing. In fact, as long as someone is not sworn to me, you really don't need my permission. Even sworn, a man always has a right of departure, provided his debts are paid. What do you want with him?'
'He's a bright kid, my lord, and has picked up accounting very quickly. I want him to keep an eye on some commercial interests I have in Cieszyn.'
'Do these commercial interests include ownership of the Pink Dragon Inn?'
'Yes, my lord. Do you object?'
'Not in the least. It's just that some remarkable rumors have been circulating about your adventures in Cieszyn. Did you really seat one of my peasant girls at the head table in my brother's castle?'
'Yes, my lord. I'm sorry if I've offended you, but-'
'Sir Conrad, my only objection is that I wasn't able to see the expression on his wife's face.' He laughed. 'That bitch has always hated me.'
'Well, come along. I want to introduce you to my liege lord, and I want you to explain your mills and the new cloth factory.'
As we entered the castle, Sir Stefan was talking heatedly with his father. I couldn't hear them, but twice he pointed at me. As my American friends would have put it, the shit was about to hit the fan.
Duke Henryk the Bearded was one of the most remarkable men I had ever met. He was almost seventy years old, and his face was cracked and wrinkled like old timber, yet his back was straight and strong. His thick white hair brushed his shoulders, and his thick white beard was huge. It was wider than his chest and extended below his sword belt.
But more important than his appearance was his-I don't want to say aura, because that implies something mystical, and this was an immensely practical man-but a feeling of power was almost tangible about him, as if, had he decided to walk through a wall, the wall would have apologized and scrambled out of his way.
Even more impressive, though in a totally different way, was his son, who would eventually be called Henryk the Pious. Young Henryk was just over forty and approaching the height of his powers. He could read and write and did a lot of both-rare among the nobility. Whereas the father was a tough politician, the son was a prince, every centimeter of him. His bearing and his look and his tone of voice were a chant that said, 'Duty, justice, order, and restraint; honor, vigor, and discipline.'
We looked each other in the eye, and I knew that this was a man I would follow into hell, fully confident that he could lead me out again. I had found Poland's king and my own.
Henryk the Bearded looked at me and said, 'So, you are Sir Conrad the Giant. I have heard much about you.'
'I hope nothing too bad, my lord.'
'Mixed. But all of it is impossible, so most of it is lies. Your loom works faster than anything the Walloons own. They brought nothing like your spinning wheels. Now, tell me about these mills you're building.'
The mill tower was now up, the tank floors were in, and the circular shed was completed. Work was under way on the turret. With the five-story-tall structure and my two-meter models, I was able to explain what I was doing, yet their questions kept me hopping. Our two visitors might be statesmen and warriors by profession, but they were not stupid when it came to technical matters. They went over things point by point. almost as thoroughly as Vitold did.
After the mills, we started on the cloth factory. The looms and spinning wheels were already understood, and I referred them to Angelo the Florentine when they asked about the dyeing vats and the combing and carding equipment. They jumped on me when it came to the washing fine. After all, everybody understood washing.
'Why twelve tubs? Why not one big one?'
'A single big tub would have to be brass, with a fire under it. Using a dozen small tubs, only two tubs need to be heated. The rest can be of wood. Also, wool needs not only to be washed but to be rinsed several times. With a single tub, we would not only have to heat three tubs of water for each batch of wool, we would have to throw away a lot of cleanser with the rinse water.'
'Explain that.'
'We call this the reverse-flow system. The wool moves from north to south along the line of tubs. The water moves from south to north, overflowing from one tub to the next. The water comes in cold and clean and goes out cold and dirty. The wool comes in cold and dirty and goes out cold and clean.'
I could see that I wasn't getting through.
'Let's follow some wool as it goes through the tubs. Dirty wool is dumped into the first wooden tub, and a worker stirs it with a wooden fork. The water is only warm, and it's dirty. Most of the cleanser has been consumed, but some dirt is easily removed. Excess water goes out this drain, and fresher water flows in through this pipe from the second tank.'
'The wool is scooped up and into the second tub, and more raw wool is dumped into the first. In the second tub, the water is hotter and cleaner.'
'This goes on until the sixth tub, which is made of brass. It is set in stone, and there is a fire beneath it. The water is very hot. Cleanser is added here.'
'The seventh is the first rinse tub. The water is warm, and cleanser that is washed off the wool flows with the water into the sixth tub.'
'Tubs eight, nine, and ten are additional, progressively hotter rinse tubs. The eleventh tub is also of brass and is heated boiling hot.'
'The twelfth tub contains fresh, cold water. Its purpose is to cool the wool while warming the water before it flows into the boiling rinse tank.'
'The washing line is followed by these draining and drying racks.'
'Hmm. So the same water is used many times, and fuel is saved. Interesting.'
The reverse flow is one of those beautifully simple things that were invented remarkably late. It was first applied to heat exchangers in the 1930s and was Albert Einstein's major contribution to engineering. Since then, it has been applied to hundreds of industrial processes.
