Chapter 15: Chapter 15

"How much have you heard?" - Claus asked sullenly, sitting in his chair and squinting regretfully at the tabletop, split in half by his father's ponderous fist.

"The very end." - I pick up an overturned chair with my foot, place it in front of him, and sit down.

"You know..." The scientist began hesitantly. - "My father, he's... not a bad man..."

"I noticed." - I chuckled, glancing around the mess left by the "educational process. - "Just the kindest of people..."

"Well... yeah." - The guy was even more embarrassed.

The pause was dragging on. I sat and looked at Claus, who was hesitating, staring at the floor and folding his hands in his lap, like a mischievous schoolboy. It was hard for him to just bring an outsider into his family's problems. You couldn't even call us friends. Buddies, maybe, but either way, internal squabbles were not a subject that was easy to talk about with an outsider.

"So?" - But I didn't care. I wanted a functioning Claus with a clean brain, unclogged by anything unnecessary. And if that requires meddling where I'm not asked to, I'll do it.

"Just don't tell Claudia, okay?" - With a pleading tone in his voice, the boy responded.

" I won't"- Without blinking an eye, I lied. I'll try not to let it come to that, but if I have to, I'll grab the whole family by the ass without regret, just as long as they work well and don't trade on bullshit. I'm sure Celestina will only back me up if anything happens.

"Anyway...as you know, I can't have kids." - Relieved by my answer, Claus hesitantly began. - "And my father really wants an heir..."

"But aren't you his heir? - I'm a little confused about the logic.

"I am, but I can't keep the next one." - He grinned mockingly. - "And my father... he worries too much about it. Too fixated on our family name and honor. The real Levantine this, the real Levantine that... everything has to be perfect."

It's clear. If you think about it, Grave did brag about his name a little too much, saying he's the one who's all about being the commander of the royal guard. What an honor, what a responsibility, and that he was the only one of many who was entrusted with it. If you don't listen, you might think it's just pride, but in fact it turns out to be hubris.

"So what is the problem?" - But one thing remains unclear to me: what the hell this old man demands the impossible from his son? This I decided to ask next, - "What's stopping him from getting married and having another son? And what's wrong with you?"

"I..." -  Here he hesitated a little. Hasn't that ever occurred to you? - "I don't know. He was always on his own mind and didn't share his thoughts with anybody. Well, I... look at me." - An indefinite flurry of hands. - "He wanted me to be a warrior, just like him. And I'm not a warrior, and I could never be one. I'm a scientist."

"And Grave can't accept that. Well, that's understandable." - I nodded, thinking of the older Levantine's logic all by myself. But... - "But what's your wife got to do with it? I've seen the way he looks at her, and it's certainly not the look of a loving relative."

"He thinks it's her fault."

"In what? - I heard that when I first got here, but I thought I'd check it out, just to be clear, in case it seemed like it. - "In your infrtility?"

"Yes."

That's ridiculous. You might as well blame the Earth for being round instead of square. Or flat. Anyway, who'd have thought this "life-wise man" would blame his own problems on someone else?

"That's great." - The sarcasm in my comment was enough to spoon-feed half the castle. What secret paths must the human mind wander to reach such conclusions? And then I remembered Grave's reservation before he left. - "But if he doesn't want a wife, how does he plan to make an heir himself? You don't mean to say that..."

"I'm afraid of that." - I can't say that Claus encouraged me with his answer. - "I'd like to believe that my father wouldn't do that, but I can't be sure of that. He can't be stopped if he sets himself some kind of goal. And if he should happen to want to touch Claudia, I would be powerless."

The younger Levantine was silent, reaching for the miraculously surviving carafe of water that had not shattered when it fell from the broken table and had even kept water in it. I was thinking at the time that Grave was a sly one. Covering up his desire to fuck his own son's wife with the honor of his family... I've never seen anything like it.

"Say... could you... you know... protect her?" - After wetting his throat and putting the dishes back on the floor, Claus sent me a hopeful look in his eyes. - "I know it sounds insolent to ask, but... if not you, who should I ask? I have no one else to confide in."

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Do I need to make this commitment?

On the one hand, it's an unnecessary headache, and I have enough to do in the near future. On the other hand, I need Claus. His bright mind will allow the realization of many advances in science from earth that are as yet unknown here. And it's not just firearms, which I could have worked on myself, but also many other things: book printing, mechanical forge presses, water or wind drives, and more. These are all fairly simple technologies that can be put into use fairly quickly. Of course, I'm not a fancy guy, but this world is also my home now, and you have to live comfortably at home.

Except that I have no time to do all this, and my knowledge is on a different plane than that of science. I know a thousand ways to send my neighbor to the afterlife, and not a smaller number for the distant, but how to build a windmill, I have only the most general idea. Well, not brought to my head creators of this knowledge, not formed the fate. But Claus, just hearing the idea and some general points, is able to come up with everything from scratch. To think it up and do it. All he needs is a guiding hand so he doesn't get distracted.

Basically, if I want this guy to keep working without worrying about anything, I have to take care of his needs. Even the weirdest ones or the ones that bode big trouble. Because at this point, he's irreplaceable.

Yes, and to be honest, I like him as a person. And so does his wife, so, purely as a human being, I'm willing to help, too. I doubt, of course, that Grave will really do anything, because any wrong move for him is death, but it doesn't matter. I've seen examples of human stupidity in my life before, so it's better to be early.

Besides, it's possible that his infertility is a temporary thing; Martha was able to help Chloe, and if she can help Claus, he's mine with his guts. And all of Grave's questions would go away on their own.

[What do you say about his infertility? Can it be cured?] - I decided not to put the question off, but to find out right away.

[If it's not a congenital genetic disorder, it can be cured.] - Martha's reply followed. - [Otherwise, I'm powerless.]

[Understood, not counting entirely on success. Well, a chance is a good thing.] - All that remains is for me to figure out how to make sure Claudia is somewhere nearby so I can keep an eye on her.

"Okay." - I took as stern a look as I could to indicate the seriousness of my promise, and answered in the affirmative. - "But you'll owe me a lot."

"Thank you!"- A delighted Claus jumped up from his chair and grabbed me by the shoulders. - "I don't even know how to thank you, I..."

"Easy, easy!"- I had to stop him, even reminded him that it's too soon to be happy. It was about time we got down to business, too. After all, I came here for complitely different reason. - "I haven't done anything yet. You better tell me, how is the gunpowder coming along?"

"Oh it's allright!" - The scientist replied with a self-conscious smile. - "I did it just the way you told me and it works! Do you have any idea how many possibilities it has?"

Now he's got that spark of research back in him that attracted me in the first place. He seemed to have forgotten all about the conversation he had just had a moment ago, and now he was on to something that interested him.

"More than that, my friend, more than that..." - I stretched out dreamily, already imagining that I could hear the new guns talking on the battlefield. - "Well, let me help you to fix your table, and then let's go and see, shall we?"

"Ah, leave it, I can do it myself!" - The scholar dismissed the suggestion as unimportant, and beckoned me on, gesticulating and dancing with impatience. - "Come, I'll show you."

"Whatever you say..." - Well, it's up to me to suggest it.

I followed Claus almost skipping, and ended up in his laboratory, which was in the basement of the house. The interior was the same as always: a creative mess. On shelves along the walls were the mechanisms, sometimes incomprehensible purpose, tools, reagents, and other small things inherent in the dwelling of a medieval scientist. The table was piled with books, notebooks, and separate sheets of paper with notes, laying out in an order that only Claus could understand. The most important things, however, were kept separate: a dozen heavy canvas sacks filled with coarse black powder occupied a separate table, free of all unnecessary items. It was evident that Claus took my words about being very careful with this powder seriously.

"Here." - He proudly showed me the work of his hands. - "I did exactly what you told me to do."

"Well, let's see..."

A small handful poured on a metal sheet and lit with a lighter flared up and hissed, emitting a thick acrid smoke into the air. A wicked smile appeared on my face.

Well, Vult, dide, next time you and your buddies come in here, you're in for a surprise.

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