Grantville Gazette 38

'He's all right,' Denis said. 'I sent him off with some friends of mine who happened to be passing. I told them to take him somewhere and let him soothe his hurt pride in some ale.'

'Men,' smiled Mirari. 'They think alcohol is a universal cure for everything.'

'If he comes back I suppose that I could tell him that I won't marry such an impetuous man as he has proven himself to be.'

'That might do it,' Denis said. 'One impetuous person in a marriage is enough.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Betsy folded her arms and scowled at her friend.

'You could just tell him that you're engaged to Denis,' Mirari put in.

'That's all I need,' Denis said. 'Pistols at ten paces with Albert.'

'This sounds like something that Cyrano would put in one of his plays,' Betsy said and then paused. 'Speaking of him, where is Cyrano?'

'A good question, Madimoselle,' a new voice chimed in.

The three occupants of the table turned as a new person approached the table. His dress was similar to that of Cyrano's. Once he had their attention, the man bowed. 'I am the boy's tutor. Abel de Cyrano, lord of Mauvieres and Bergerac placed the boy in my care. But he managed to escape my watchful eye in Badenburg. I've managed to follow him here.'

'You just missed him,' Denis said. He and left with Monsieur de Largo. De Largo said he had something that he needed to talk to Cyrano about and, in fact, had been looking for him for several weeks. I had the impression that they were going to be heading out of town, rather quickly.'

The stranger's eyes grew wide. 'De Largo.' He clapped his hand to his sword. 'Please excuse me.' With that, he turned and ran from the room.

'What was that about?' Betsy asked.

Mirari shook her head and smiled. 'You do know that Charles de Largo is not his real name?' she asked.

'Well, then, who is he?' asked Denis, glancing back toward the door as if expecting either of the two men to make a dramatic entrance.

'Charles D'Artagnan,' she said.

'D'Artagnan,' said Betsy. 'You mean as in D'Artagnan and The Three Musketeers?'

Mirari reached across the table and picked up a pitcher of hot chocolate and refilled her glass. 'I've known a few musketeers. I suppose Charles knows some, but I don't know.'

Betsy just shook her head; she had images of Michael York and Chris O'Donnell running through her head.

'Oh, by the way,' said Denis, fishing in his pocket. 'Cyrano asked me to give you a note.'

'I wonder if it's a love poem,' Mirari speculated. 'He seemed quite taken with you, Betsy.'

Betsy ignored her friend as she scanned the brief note.

My dear Betsy,

Regretfully, I must cut my visit to Grantville, and our association short. A situation in France has developed that I must deal with. Unfortunately, this means that I must put aside my work on Our Miss Brooks. I realize now that I do not yet have the skill to write in the way that the story demands. However, I have heard of another up-time story that I think I that I may adapt. It is about a lunatic red-haired woman who repeatedly falls into trouble. I believe I have enough material to adapt this into a series of comedies. I shall call it I Love Betsy.

Betsy crumpled the note in her hand and growled.

'Bad news?' Mirari asked.

'When I see that boy again,' Betsy said between clenched teeth, 'he's got a lot of 'splainin' to do.'

Paper Mate

Kerryn Offord

February 1633, Saalfeld

Veronika Vorkeuffer stuffed the envelope containing her latest assignment into the post box and smiled as she heard it hit the bottom with a satisfying thud.

'Still wasting your time trying to 'improve yourself,' I see,' an unpleasant voice said from over her shoulder. 'It's not going to help you catch an up-timer. They aren't interested in girls like you.'

Veronika turned to face the man whose marriage proposal she'd recently turned down. 'I'm not interested in marrying an up-timer,' she said truthfully.

Nikolaus Rorer snorted his disbelief and walked off. Veronika waited for him to enter the Saalfeld council office building before she headed for the reception and typing pool in the same building.

She was greeted by her co-worker, who'd obviously seen the encounter. 'What did the creep say that upset you?' Catrin Schmoller asked.

'He accused me of wanting to marry an up-timer.'

'Which you of course immediately denied. After all, why would any self-respecting woman want to marry an up-timer? I mean, what do they have to offer a girl, other than a lifestyle to die for?'

Veronika had to grin at her friend's mock outrage. 'I don't think all up-timers are rich. Haven't you noticed how many of their wives seem to hold down jobs? I don't want to go out to work; I want to be a stay-at-home wife and mother.'

'If you married Nikolaus you'd be a stay-at-home wife and mother.'

'Nikolaus doesn't want a stay-at-home wife. He wants a stay-at-home slave. I should never have mentioned I ever worked as a housemaid.' Veronika shuddered at the memory of her years of drudgery. 'There is no way I'm going to return to that kind of life.'

'You'll be lucky to find someone able to afford for you not to go out to work, and can afford someone to help around the house.'

Veronika dropped her head and sighed in resignation. 'I know, but I can dream, can't I? Meanwhile, I'll concentrate on gaining my GED and a better job.'

Schwarza Gewerbegebiet

Gottfried Spengler stopped at the turnoff to Merkel's mill, looked at the distant mill, and sighed heavily.

The man he'd been chatting with all the way from their rooms at the single men's accommodations looked at him with concern. 'Why the big sigh?' Friedrich Stisser asked.

'Working for Heinrich isn't turning out as well as I'd hoped.'

'What's your problem? I thought you were in charge of everything?'

'I am, but I don't have the authority a master in his own mill would have, and Heinrich insists on being consulted about any changes.'

'Well, consult with him and then do what you want. He needs you more than you need him.'

'Unfortunately, that's no longer the case. There are too many journeyman papermakers out there just waiting for the opportunity to run a mill, so I have to waste time explaining the benefits of anything I want to try to someone who doesn't know anything about making paper.'

'That's what you get when you allow just anyone to own a craft shop. At least Heinrich Roentgen is a master brick-maker.'

'It's the fault of the up-timers and their lack of understanding about guilds. They see them as completely bad.'

'Whereas they are really only slightly bad?'

'Okay, I admit it, I have criticized the guild. But at least under the guild system, the people running the business actually have to have worked in the industry. Now we're starting to be run by the accountants, and you