Henri's Journal

[Deleted]

Floras 1st

Dad let me know some strange things today, and I'm still taking them in. The mines and farms have all been destroyed or deteriorated, and all he's done for the past month is sit around and read. As I was making my new year's resolutions today, he interrupted me to go ask the caravan outside for some iron ingots. I tried to negotiate for them, but it wasn't too easy.

What's strange is why he wanted the ingots. He told me we needed them to build the basic tools our duchy's people require to have an industry of any kind here in Corday, because of the mines and fields. I'm not sure what's wrong with the old man's head... I hope he's not dying. I'm not ready to lead, and I like him! Goodness.

All my friends in the other duchies seem to want their parents dead, or something. They resent them! The few that have already up-jumped did so very quickly, and everything about them changed. Their personalities disappeared; they weren't entertaining company, trying to drag our friendship into some kind of political deal.

Ugh, disgusting.

But I'm getting off track. I think dad's missing something very important, here. While he's reading in his library, he's not letting anyone else touch it. No one ever comes by our home. I don't know why he's so secretive... if he would just spread his knowledge around, maybe our Duchy wouldn't be so... ...fucked! (It really is.)

But noooo. Maybe that's my job... maybe I should teach my people all the economics and stuff that he's taught me. It's all macro and micro level, but he never seemed to figure out how to teach it to people who don't already speak High Cruic. He needs to boil down the concepts to be practical. There's a supply, and there's demand, and you've got to find the price that reduces the demand to the available supply, so you have enough money to buy more supply, then lower the price so you're making enough to profit while matching supply to the maximum demand! Someone needs to get this out to the people.

But how do I know I'm teaching them the right things? What if I'm misinforming them? I need to make sure I have the right knowledge first, before I can tell the other people what to think, like I'm some kind of all-knowing God of Money.

I asked Dad how he knew so much about economics, and money, and all that... and I don't know, he seemed to... divert from it?

Maybe he's forgotten...

I wonder if he'll forget me?

I'm sorry, Dad... I wish you would go see a doctor.

I don't want you to forget any more.

I love you, Dad.

(Learning: Steward)

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Floras 3rd

I've been troubling about Dad's plans for a while now. How am I supposed to find a good smith--one that can make tools enough to revolutionize our economy? We don't even have a damn smithy in town. I'm not going to wait until some smith just happens to come by--no, I refuse to do that!

But I can't really just go out and find one myself, can I? Where would I find one?

I've drafted up a letter, and I'm having Leon--the stable-boy--take it to town. He'll give it to the crier, who I'm sure is the only literate one of all of them, and have the man distribute the information to the people.

In the most basic terms, I'm holding a competition tomorrow to see who has the most skillful potential for craftsmanship. I can't take the old smiths off their work, bending and bowing their plain goods so they can scratch at dirt. I've heard that their teachings are infectious poison, telling their apprentices what they can't do rather than teaching what they can. It's no damn way to raise a mind.

So I've limited competition to those who aren't yet apprentices. Maybe they've no knowledge of blacksmithing, but they're young enough that they can learn. And I will only have the best teach this apprentice; I will let him be molded into a perfect form, which can strike the hammer and create things both beautiful and terrible in their power.

My only requirements, though I've not told them, will be personality. The boldest and most ambitious among them will thrive, and none else. They must be able to think without instruction, and more importantly--to create without prompt.

. . .

I went down with Leon, I decided, and forwent the Crier. I delivered the message myself, in my best words. I ended up telling them exactly what I was looking for. It isn't right for a duke... a future duke... to withhold any information from his populace. A few brave young men, and some women, stepped forward. Some shook from the act of taking that first step. Some looked like they didn't understand exactly what they'd be doing--adventuring out on their own into the dangerous world beyond their town, seeking only the best craftsmen.

A few, though, a few looked like they understood, had sure feet. I remembered their faces. Two young men, two older boys, and one woman just past girlhood. We would see which one could do the impossible, and create something new. I restated, of course, that any and all were welcome to try their hand in the competition. But those five faces, I would remember.

The competition itself will be fairly simple. I've gathered clay and sand from the basement, where for some reason it's been resting. I will ask each competitor to make something practical from the sand, and something beautiful from the clay.

We'll see who wins, who earns the right to be the Duke's -- The future Duke's Craftsman.