A Modern Mind in Medieval Times

Spoons clinked against bowls under the dim candlelight as Reshma made sounds of approval at the goat stew. The walls of the private chamber seemed to press inward around Laira. She forced the food down in small, polite bites, stealing glances at her confidante to make sure her nervousness didn’t show.

Reshma exhaled, put down her spoon and looked at her. “What do you want to say?”

“What? Nothing.”

“Don’t lie, Liru. Your eyes keep darting around. You want to say something, but won’t.”

Laira wet her lips and mumbled, “It’s… not proper.”

Reshma’s lips quivered. “Plenty of things we do behind closed doors would scandalize the priests. So what?”

Laira sighed, a dam breaking through. “You two are so carefree. I don’t know how you do it.”

Reshma waited patiently for her.

Laira found her courage, looked the lithe woman in the eye and let it out, “Do you… want to be with Jack?”

A shocked expression answered her.

“You’re reconsidering the marriage? I don’t desire him more than you! I hardly know the man. I swear, we didn’t do anything improper during the journey.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Laira whispered.

She nervously watched Reshma’s confused face, whose creased brows finally softened.

“You really don’t mind sharing him?” Reshma asked.

“No. Do you truly not wish for marriage and children?”

“I’ve told you many times. You are all I need. I suppose the three of us could find-” Reshma’s eyes widened, with realization dawning,“You want to see him with another woman.”

Laira didn’t reply, but her beet-red face was answer enough.

A wide grin split the dusky woman’s face. “And I thought I was the deviant one.”

She began to rise, when Reshma grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry! You know I instinctively make such quips. I’ll behave. Promise!”

Laira sat down, as she nervously glanced at her lithe lover. “I want to know how he will act in bed before committing. Before… entrusting myself to him.”

All trace of mirth vanished from Reshma’s face. “Is it about what happened to your mother?”

Her feelings must have shown on her face, as Reshma quickly got up from her chair and hugged her from behind. The taller woman’s cool cheek brushing her heated one calmed her down.

“It’s okay. I get it. You don’t want a brute for a husband. Someone who’ll force that decision upon you,” Reshma whispered.

Laira exhaled the tension away. The truth was finally out. Relief tangled messily with excitement and humiliation.

“I don’t think Jack is that kind of man, love, but I’ll confirm it for you,” Reshma assured her, then purred into her ear. “Is that the only reason you want to see him in action, or does it also make you feel tingly?”

“Both,” Laira whispered honestly.

“I suppose I’ll bed your husband-to-be before you do, then.” Reshma said mischievously, as she returned to her chair.

Laira’s eyes narrowed as the joker tapped a finger on her cheek. “If I remember correctly, you were quite diligent in worshiping me last night. Were you imagining it was Jack feeding his sausage to you?”

She threw a spoon at the blithering idiot, who nimbly dodged it.

“Was it my fault? Did that show I arranged for you turn you into a voyeur? Forgive me Lord, for I have sinned!” Reshma prayed in a mocking tone.

Laira was unfortunately out of spoons to throw.

“It’s okay, love. It’ll be just another secret of ours. Jack is a lucky, lucky man. Use it to extract more benefits out of him.”

Relieved to be free of her secret, Laira let herself relax and enjoyed the comfort of her lover’s banter.

The next morning, she prepared herself to tackle the challenges her new worldview presented.

She needed copper – mountains of it.

She was no smith, but even she could imagine that the monstrosities Jack promised could tear down castle walls would weigh at least a thousand pounds.

The Minister of Coin boasted of a three-year reserve, and it was time to find out if that would enough to begin the work of securing her realm.

It didn’t take even an hour for a new challenge to appear.

Torchlight swayed in the long, stone throat of Hohenburg Castle’s treasury vault, as Laira looked around, her every footstep echoing.

“Count them again,” she said quietly.

The Master of Stores, swallowed and spoke, “Your Majesty, we have counted them thrice already. The Treasury contains fifty-nine crates of copper.”

“And how many should there be?” she asked.

He licked his lips. “Seventy-five, by the books.”

She inhaled, slow and controlled. The air smelled of cold stone, old wood and disappointment.

Sixteen large crates missing.

Each held hundred-pound ingots, stamped with the mine’s seal. More than a year’s reserve vanished into thin air.

This was not negligence or accident, but theft. High-level theft.

She turned back to leave, when her eyes fell upon words carved in stone, right above the entrance.

“Act as shepherds, not hirelings.”

She felt the weight of those words. She thought she had excised all rot from the court, yet there was always more hiding.

She had suspicions, but it would be foolish to move without proof. She did not want to create internal enemies when an existential one was already approaching ever closer.

How to find concrete evidence?

An idea came to her.

“Seal the vault,” she ordered curtly. “Nothing goes in or out until I personally say so.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the Master of Stores replied immediately.

“And speak of this to no one.”

“Not even—”

“No one,” she said sharply and fixed him with a stare. “Anyone finds out, and I will hold you accountable.”

He nodded meekly, eyes cast down.

She strode out, her face serene, but inside, she was forming a plan.

“Post two of your peers at the gate,” she told the Royal Guards trailing her.

The knights nodded in unison.

---

I spent the morning browsing through the shops of the Inner city, buying a trinket or two. Sindhu’s fine silks and exotic spices were prominently displayed, as well as the beautifully crafted pieces of jewelry Nanon was known for.

Despite my best efforts, the courtiers had noticed my presence and curious gazes had begun following me. Gazes I wanted to avoid. Meeting someone who already knew Jack, or worse, was close to him, would be even more trouble. Hence, the window shopping.

I was about to look for lunch when a royal page found me.

“Her Majesty requests your presence, Excellency. She says it is urgent.”

I nodded and returned to the castle.

Laira was waiting in a private chamber, next to a table covered in parchment rolls and tally sticks.

“Your Excellency,” she said formally.

“Your Majesty.”

“I need your help in reviewing the Crown’s copper reserves.”

“Copper?” I asked curiously.

“I noticed your wondrous weapon was made of brass. If we are to resist the might of Zoran, I imagine we will need a lot of it.”

God, she is so smart.

I quickly fixed my pants to hide anything improper, that really shouldn’t be. It was a complement, if anything.

Looking to distract myself, I bent over the table and began scanning the records.

I tried to hide a grimace. It was a mess: inconsistent formats, incomplete entries and the ever-present fact that the numbers might be false.

“How thorough do you want me to be?”

“Very,” she whispered. “These are the treasury accounts for the last three years. Records of mine shipments, guild withdrawals, and the tallies from the vault.”

I sat down to work under her hawk like gaze.

Some of the records were written by scribes with elegant, looping handwriting, while others made doctors’ prescriptions look legible in comparison.

The numbers were also contradictory, though only by small margins. A handful of ingots missing here and there.

I made two columns on a fresh piece of parchment. Time to introduce this world to the magic of double-entry bookkeeping.

Column A: Stated Reserves

Column B: Actual Probability

I made some paired ledgers, for cross-referencing:

Source (mines) to Increase in inventory

Treasury stock to Guild withdrawals

An hour went by as I forced myself to do the tedious work, when the first anomaly caught my attention.

“Interesting,” I murmured.

Laira, who hadn’t left the chamber for even a minute, asked, “What is it?”

“It says eight crates were withdrawn for heraldic plate, but the purchase logs of the Guild of Armorers have no such entry.”

“Are you certain?”

“Look for yourself.”

I kept working for hours. At some point, my stomach growled and she looked startled.

“You haven’t eaten?”

Before I could say anything, she slipped out to order food.

A few minutes later, a maid arrived with a plate of roasted boar and vegetables, along with a mug of ale. I cleared space for the plate as she held it.

She leaned close to me as she placed it, a little too close.

Goosebumps erupted when she turned toward me, her ample bosom pressing into my shoulder.

She whispered sensually into my ear, soft lips touching my earlobe. “My lord, ignore this matter and anything you desire will be yours. Anything.”

I pushed myself away from my chair, fearing a knife about to be plunged in my gut.

A safe distance away from her, I looked at the rather fetching woman. Her hands were empty. She clasped them together to accentuate her already enticing decolletage.

“Out!”

Her face fell and she quickly retreated.

I ran up to my guards and placed them outside the door, then found Laira and told her about the incident.

“I doubt we’ll find her again,” she murmured. “Our best way forward is to solve the mystery.”

I nodded and continued the work.

With each cross-reference, a pattern emerged and grew clearer.

A crate or two vanished from the treasury every month, with no record of where they ended up.

Yet, the withdrawals were signed by senior treasury officials.

“These three,” I pointed at the names. “They quite likely share a common superior; someone higher up shielding them.”

She looked at them, with the assurity of someone who already knew the answer.

“What is your verdict?”

“Either they are independently acting run-of-the-mill corrupt bureaucrats, or, much more likely, it’s an organized effort. This racket has been going on for at least a year.”

Her hazel eyes trained on me. “And the crates?”

“By my accounting, sixteen have gone missing. Could be more.”

She didn’t show a reaction.

Did she already know? Did I just spent hours on some sort of test?