The King asks Milsy to discover what Fulvin is doing - he is neglecting his work as palace jeweler and Their Majesties have become concerned. An unexpected outing into an industrial part of the city follows and Milsy accidentally triggers a social revolution!

What Milsy Did

by Penny Lane

17 - Fulvin's Obsession

Disclaimer: The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2016 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

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A week had passed since the visit of Milsy and Tarvan to the furnace site, a week which had been spent in deep discussions with the various ironmasters about ways in which the design of the various processes could be improved. A week which would otherwise have been idle while waiting for the parts of their new double clocks to be made and delivered.

This activity came to an end one morning when the Queen intercepted Milsy as she entered the family dining room for breakfast.

"Good morning, dear! I trust you slept well?"

"Good morning, Your Majesty. Aye, I did sleep well. Our recent activities have meant that I am getting more exercise than I have been used to and that must be part of it. Uh, that wouldn't be the kind of exercise Lady Garia does, Ma'am, I meant just walking around sites and climbing up and down stairs and ladders."

"Climbing stairs and ladders! My goodness, I hope that you are conducting yourself as befits a lady of the court, dear."

"Aye, Ma'am, well, it has been difficult. Bursila and I do not yet have the special suits which Rosilda is making for us but we are managing. As with Lady Garia and your own guardsmen, the metalsmiths treat us with due respect, Ma'am, but sometimes, in the wind... as I said, it can be difficult."

Terys eyed the young woman with interest. "I am anxiously awaiting the appearance of these new items, dear. I always expect something novel when Garia consults Rosilda, this is the first time she has produced something for you, I believe."

"We are also waiting, Ma'am. Part of the delay is for buckles to be made but it seems that Master Fulvin has other demands on his time these days."

"That was what I wanted to ask you about this morning, dear. A keep chain on one of my favorite bracelets has broken and it must needs be repaired. Where is Fulvin? Do you know? We have not seen him these past ten days and there is work for him to do."

"I do not, Ma'am, though I can guess."

"Oh? Ah, here is the King. Let us all be seated and then we may continue our discussion as we eat."

"As you command, Ma'am."

Robanar entered the dining room talking with Tarvan, who he had met on the way through the corridors. After the customary greetings they all took seats at table, with Terys directing that Milsy and Tarvan should take seats opposite the royal couple so that they could continue their conversations. Food took precedence and all devoted themselves to breaking their fasts. Finally Robanar felt that he had eaten enough and looked up at Tarvan.

"So you consider that the furnace site will not have sufficient materials because they cannot be brought from Tranidor in sufficient quantity."

"Aye, Sire," Tarvan responded. "To keep the furnace running continuously will require several tons of ore and coke every day. Let me see... I'm guessing that would be about nine or ten wagons each of ore and coal and about three or four of limestone." He shrugged. "I think that in time we may achieve that, Sire, but presently that represents about the whole output that is available to Palarand from the mines."

The King nodded. "What you are saying is that such quantities may be brought across the Sirrel to our furnace site but that would leave none for anywhere else."

"Aye, Sire, you have it exactly."

Robanar grunted. "Garia warned us of this. We must needs be small before we may grow large, I deem, but we are already thinking of new ways to use this increase in steel production. We must consider new furnace sites near Teldor and Tranidor before long."

"Sire," Milsy put in, "we may slightly reduce the need for coal with some of the alterations to the furnace which have been proposed."

"Which you proposed, you mean," Tarvan said.

Milsy blushed. "Aye, that is true enough, but the point remains. We may save some of the coal wagons for use by ore or limestone."

Robanar looked at her fondly. "My dear, you have a sharp eye and pay close attention to detail. Palarand is fortunate to have discovered you and we are grateful for your ideas and suggestions. You have conveyed your ideas to Parrel?"

"Aye, Sire, I have. They will likely be added to the third furnace as it is completed."

"Dear," Terys said to her husband, "Milsy may have some idea where Fulvin has gotten to."

"Ah? Milsy, my dear, enlighten us. Our jeweler has not been seen these several days and there is work for him to attend to."

Milsy blushed again, but this time it was embarrassment rather than pleasure. "Sire, do you remember the trousers which Lady Garia was wearing when she was found? The zipper which closes the front?"

"Aye, my dear, an amazing device."

"I believe that Master Fulvin seeks to understand how such a device is made and perhaps even to make some himself using similar methods. I believe that he spends most of his days in the brass workshop at the end of Pakh Lane inventing machinery which would help him."

"Brass workshop? Not the one that burned down, surely?"

Tarvan answered, "No, Sire, this is one of the older ones, the same one I served apprentice in before I became attached to Guildmaster Parrel. As the original zipper seems to be made of brass, it is brass that Fulvin seeks to use to make his copies from." He paused, considering whether to continue. "Sire, I believe that Fulvin has become obsessed with this idea. I remember, there was a certain evening meeting we had with Lady Garia before she went to Blackstone."

Robanar nodded. He understood the reference to the Council of the Two Worlds.

Tarvan continued, "She spoke then of those on her own world who had become obsessed with some particular device or notion. She named them geeks and said, I recall, that they would forget even to eat, sleep or change their clothes in pursuit of their obsession. I deem that Fulvin may have become of like kind."

Both Terys and Milsy shuddered at the thought that somebody would take so little care of themselves in pursuit of some target, but they both knew of people who had behaved that way.

"Tarvan."

"Aye, Ma'am?"

"Does Fulvin return to the palace at all? Does he abandon his duty completely?"

"Well, Ma'am, if you put it like that, probably he does. I do not know if he returns here at night, Ma'am. If he does, perhaps the Guard may waylay him and bid him seek your presence."

Robanar rumbled, "And if he does not?"

"Why, Sire, it seems that someone must needs go and remind him of his duty. Um, it is not as if he spends his days gambling or drinking, Sire, or consorting with those we do not speak of at table. For his faults, he desires to serve Palarand in his own way. Perhaps Milsy and I could go and find him, Sire. That may be better than having a squad of Captain Merek's men appear at the workshop and ruin him completely."

Robanar fixed Tarvan with an eye, calculating, before reluctantly nodding.

"Aye, you are right. He has forgotten his duty in an effort to provide us something new. However, that is not what he gave oath to when he came to the palace as our jeweler. Go, then, take your companion and find our errant guildsman. Leave him in no doubt what the alternative may be if he does not return with you."

"As you command, Sire."

* * *

Milsy stared at Tarvan as their carriage rumbled through the city streets.

"That was unexpected."

"Aye," he agreed. "It does give me a chance to show you another workshop, though."

"Is this the workshop where they are making the clock parts?"

Tarvan nodded. "Most of them, aye. We might even get a chance to check on progress but," he waved a finger, "we are commissioned by His Majesty to return Fulvin to the palace. We must not become distracted."

"As you say." Milsy peered through the window at the buildings that lined the roads. "I don't think I have been this way before."

"Probably not. This isn't one of the better parts of the city, most likely because of all the workshops that are around here. You two," he warned both Milsy and Bursila, "must needs keep your eyes open. Many of the dwellings nearby house disreputable people who might take your presence as a challenge."

"I'm not too concerned, Tarvan," Milsy replied. "I think those four guardsmen surrounding the carriage might dissuade them, do you not agree?"

"That is true, but we are far from any support should trouble begin. The guildsmen at the workshop should help if it does become necessary, though I deem we will be safe enough today."

At the end of a narrow side street the carriage pulled into the usual front yard and halted. As Milsy climbed down one of the idlers in the yard saw her and ran inside.

"Again," she muttered. "Doubtless they think that I am Garia come to call."

"As you say," Tarvan replied. "After all, that is why you were brought to the city in the first place, is it not? Most of these will not have heard that she is somewhere else entirely, I deem. If you would be patient with them, Milsy."

Soon enough several men emerged from the double doors which led into the main workshop, some wiping their hands on cloth rags. They bowed towards Milsy.

An older man wearing a stained leather apron came forward. "Guildmistress, welcome."

Milsy held up a hand. "Though we look similar, I am not the Guildmistress. I am Journeywoman Milsy and I am accompanying Craftmaster Tarvan on an errand for the King."

The man did a double take and then his gaze shifted to Tarvan, his expression turning into a smile of recognition.

"Tarvan! Welcome to our workshop once more. It is some time since we last spoke together. I must congratulate you on your promotion though I have no idea what it is you do now."

The two men clasped arms in friendship.

"Well met, Dubanar. Aye, I move in different circles now but I remember well my years here learning my trade. In fact, I still work in brass though of course I now use other materials as well. Milsy assists me in my endeavors for the King though it would be truthful to say that ofttimes it is the other way around. You should know that she has a mind equal to that of the Guildmistress, if not yet the rank."

"Ah, I see." Dubanar turned his attention to Milsy. "Read me, then, this riddle."

"There is much that I could tell you," Tarvan said, "but I regret that I am not permitted to. Suffice it to say that the resemblance is not accidental, though Milsy's intelligence certainly was."

"Do you tell me she is a -" Dubanar's mouth snapped shut. "Ah. Guild confidence, I take it?"

"As you say."

"Your visit here is unexpected, Tarvan, though you will always be welcome. Do you come seeking your clock parts? I understand the urgency but we would have delivered all to the palace by the second bell tomorrow morning as expected."

"As I am here, I could take anything you already have finished, Dubanar, but I have come on a different errand. If there is time I would like to show Milsy around your workshop, as it would be part of her education in Guild matters, but our main purpose here is of a another kind."

"Oh?"

"Aye. We seek Fulvin, who has been absent from the palace for more than a week. Their Majesties have become anxious as to his whereabouts. We understood him to be working on a project here."

"Fulvin? Aye, he is here, or should I say nearby. We have had to acquire two other workshops as the demand for brass items has increased so much. One of those does nothing but make thin strips of brass which are then used to stamp out tiny buckles using a device Fulvin invented." Dubanar's brow wrinkled. "So many brass buckles? And so small? Do you have any idea what they are used for?"

Tarvan grinned. "I do, Dubanar, and I can explain, but the subject might embarrass you or some of your men. If we may go to your office."

"Of course! If you would follow me."

Tarvan detailed the four guardsmen who had accompanied their carriage to look after it while he and Milsy went inside. Dubanar then showed them to his small office which was at one side of the entrance. Most of the rest went back to whatever they had been doing while Dubanar was accompanied by a single younger man.

"If I may introduce Journeyman Parsan," Dubanar said. "These days I have need of an assistant because the workload has become so great." The young man bowed as Dubanar continued with a smile, "I doubt not the work is caused by all that the Guildmistress brings us so I do not complain. So. Tell me about these brass buckles, then."

"It is the doing of the Guildmistress," Tarvan admitted. "I doubt you have much knowledge of women's underwear? It is not something that would interest many men, I deem."

Dubanar waved a noncommittal hand while Parsan blushed deeply.

"I think I begin to see," the older man said. "This is something to do with a new garment introduced by the Guildmistress, then. My wife may have tried to speak to me of it but I regret I did not pay sufficient attention."

"Aye, well," Tarvan said, beginning to feel uncomfortable himself. "The Guildmistress has introduced a number of ideas new to the female mind, this particular one concerns underwear. Um, Milsy, if you would continue? Naturally, I lack the personal experience to describe how those buckles are used."

"As you wish, Craftmaster," Milsy agreed carefully. "Master Dubanar, has your wife spoken to you of something called a bra? It is a new garment intended to replace the bodices all women presently use."

"She did! That was the name, I remember now. I believe that she said that they would be hard to obtain as yet until more seamstresses knew how to make them. You are telling me that these new garments use these buckles, then."

"Aye, Craftmaster. Each garment has a strap that goes over each shoulder and every strap has two buckles on it to permit easy adjustment. Mine are presently here and here." Milsy indicated with a finger where the buckles were on one of her straps. "Both myself and Bursila, my chaperone, are wearing bras and have done so for some time. Almost everyone... uh, every woman in the palace wears a bra now, even the Queen. So far they have proven to be much more comfortable than the bodices were."

"Indeed! Then I must pay my wife more attention, I deem. Thank you for describing so clearly that which a man might stumble over. But... so many buckles?"

Milsy smiled. "Aye, Craftmaster. My bra has four buckles and because each one must be washed frequently I possess a number of bras. Three for daily use and two for... a particular time each month."

Parsan was now struggling to retain his composure.

She continued, "That makes twenty for a single person. Now imagine how many women may live in the city, Craftmaster."

Dubanar pursed his lips. "Aye. That had not occurred to me. It was bad enough when Guildmaster Parrel told us about the forks! One for every man, woman and child in Palarand, nay, the entire country! I was relieved when the Craftmasters agreed that brass would not be a suitable material to make most forks from." He nodded. "Now I understand! Aye, perhaps I will rethink our priorities. The numbers we produce are so great I began to think that there must have been some mistake."

"Craftmaster, once every woman is fitted then the demand should slacken." Milsy shrugged. "Having said that, by the time that happens something else will have become popular."

"It already has, guildswoman. Something strange seems to be happening in the market for saddles. We have been asked to make molds for a new kind of foot-rest, if you would believe it. The numbers desired are again significant."

Tarvan nodded. "Aye, that is correct. The Guildmistress has shown us a new type of saddle which requires a different style of stirrup to be comfortable. If you desire to see some in use, you may inspect those of our escort when we depart."

"Do you tell me? I will do so, since that should inform me how they are to be used and thus I can estimate demand." His eyes narrowed. "If I may ask why you have need of an escort."

Milsy replied, "Do you not remember what happened when we arrived, Craftmaster? If you may mistake me for the Guildmistress, then so may others, perhaps those with ill intent. If you can remember what happened at the Harvest Festival, I am told that an attempt was made to kidnap Lady Garia from the middle of the crowded field. His Majesty's men are here to make sure that no unfortunate accidents may happen to me."

"Forgive me, guildswoman, I was not thinking. Aye, I can see that the resemblance makes you vulnerable." Dubanar looked concerned. "Does that mean that you must needs be followed around by your escort wherever you are? That could become awkward, especially in some of our workshops."

She smiled. "The insides of guild buildings are considered reasonably safe, Craftmaster. After all, you should know all who pass within, is that not so? Regrettably the same cannot be said for either the palace or Dekarran castle, where other attempts to abduct Lady Garia have also occurred. I must needs have guards placed outside the door of my suite, that I may sleep in peace."

Dubanar's face showed distaste. "I wonder that our country has come to such a state when even a maiden may not rest peacefully in her own bed at night! You have my sympathies, my dear." His expression changed and so did the subject. "You must return Fulvin to the palace, then, to be judged by the King? Is he required immediately?"

Tarvan shook his head. "I think he will come peacefully, Dubanar. We need not drag him out right away."

Dubanar snorted. "It will take a bolt of lightning at his feet to gain his attention! He has become as bad as some Questors I know. What I meant was, if you can spare half a bell, then I will show you and your Journeywoman around our workshop first. If you do not object?"

Tarvan gestured. "Not at all, Dubanar. I would be interested to see what changes you have made here myself." He grinned. "Besides, we can make our own lightning now. You must come to the palace one day for a demonstration."

"That I must see! Then, if you would follow me," he gestured to the door, "we may show your Journeywoman what it is we do here."

* * *

"How far is it?" Milsy asked as they walked to the front gate of the works.

"Barely a hundred strides, guildswoman," Dubanar replied, pointing. "On the left, just beyond the alley you see there. The buckle works is two doors further along."

Tord inspected the lane ahead of them with disfavor. "Craftmaster, how safe may this roadway be? As we arrived I noted that many of the poorer folk of the city live in dwellings along here."

Dubanar flicked a dismissive hand. "You need not worry for the safety of your charges, Guardsman. Of those who live in Pakh Lane, and along the alleys leading from it, many are employed in the several workshops along the lane. Ah, that would be many men, of course. If we walk to Fulvin's workshop, some will show interest, that is natural with four of His Majesty's men beside us, but I do not think there will be any trouble."

Tord nodded, though it was obvious he was not happy with the situation.

"As you say, Craftmaster."

"By the time we have found Fulvin and extracted him from whatever he is doing," Dubanar added, "my men will have parceled up the clock parts for Tarvan and stored them in the trunk of the carriage. There should be no further delay should you desire to return to the palace in haste."

Tarvan replied, "Thank you, Dubanar. Shall we go?"

It seemed a simple process to walk a hundred strides from one workshop to another, but Milsy knew it was never going to be that simple. The alley that Dubanar had pointed out had a tavern on each corner and an onlooker standing outside one of them hurried inside when he saw the procession approach. In moments men and women had come boiling out to stand on the cobbles, the commotion drawing others out from the other tavern.

"It's her! The one from the palace!"

"What's she doing down here?"

The crowd had spilled across the narrow lane, preventing passage. A word from Tord stopped his men from drawing swords. The drinkers seemed curious rather than upset and he did not want to inflame the situation.

"If you would let us pass," Dubanar said to them. "We are about the King's business."

The crowd shuffled but nobody moved aside.

An older man, mug in hand, called, "Is that her? Are you the Guildmistress we been hearing so much about?"

"I am not the Guildmistress," Milsy replied. "She is in the north, visiting her lands. I am a guildswoman, it is true, but I am not who you think I am."

"You look like her!" another voice shouted. "I seen you at the Harvest Festival. You've just come from the palace, I seen the carriage. You must be her!"

"Well, I'm not, and that's that. Will you let us pass?"

The second speaker shouldered his way to the front. "What will happen to us, Guildmistress? There are rumors of great changes coming to Palarand. Will the likes of us be discarded, cast aside?"

Tord pushed forward but Milsy put her hand on his arm.

"No, Tord. These people are fed only rumor and they are frightened for their futures. I must try and satisfy them."

"As you wish, Mistress. But... be careful."

She looked at the speaker and saw a man of around thirty, dressed as many of those in the crowd were, in little better than rags. She saw with a shock that his right arm ended at the wrist.

"I am not the Guildmistress," she repeated. "I work for her and I do look a lot like her. That is accidental. What is it you wanted to know?"

He pointed with his left hand. "You must be her, you have a Guild badge. Why deny it?"

"Were you once a guildsman yourself? Can you read?"

"Aye, Guildmistress, to both questions."

"Then come forward and read my badge. That shall tell you the truth and you can tell your fellows."

The man came forward and carefully peered at the badge. The aroma of beer flowed over her as he bent down to read, but this was not the first time she had experienced that. Suddenly he straightened up, took a step back and bowed.

"If you would accept my apologies, Journeywoman. I did not think there was any other woman yet entered into a guild." He turned to face the onlookers. "Her badge says Journeywoman and she bears the number two. It seems that at least one rumor is true." He half turned and asked Milsy, "It is true, then? Women may now join guilds? We thought the Guildswoman had become such because of some favor granted to the Guildmasters."

"Lady Garia's award was made solely on merit," Milsy said forcefully. "There were no favors asked for nor any given."

The man bowed again. "Your pardon, I did not mean to imply -"

More calmly she replied, "No, but I can see how it would look to those who don't know the circumstances. Garia is special because of where she comes from and what she knows. The rumors of great changes are likely true, though I would doubt anyone that told you exactly what will happen since nobody can possibly know. As for being discarded, well," she shrugged, "no job lasts forever, does it? A month ago I was a kitchen servant in Dekarran castle until somebody discovered me. I do not say that every woman would find their path as easy as mine but the changes to come will bring work for many who stand here today."

A woman wearing a filthy apron stood forward. "What? Work for young 'uns, I'll guess. What about the rest of us?"

"Work for many, of many ages," Milsy told her. "The guild system will not be able to cope with the great increase in production that is sure to come. Both men and women will be needed to work the new machines which will make all our lives that much easier. Men and women will be needed to support those who do that work."

"Dunno about that. What do you think I'm good for, then?"

Milsy eyed the apron. "You cook?"

"Aye, in that tavern."

"That is an honorable profession with which I am familiar. Many new people will come to Palarand seeking work and they will all need to be fed. Cooks will always be wanted."

"Suppose I don't want to be doing that no more. What else could I be doing?"

Milsy shrugged again. Cloistered in the palace, she had little idea what was happening in the rest of the city. "I don't know. You'll have to ask others."

Dubanar stepped forward. "Mistress? If you so desire, there is work we could find for you in our workshops. We have such a demand for workers that we have begun taking those who are not guildsmen."

"You jest, Master!"

Tarvan told her, "The Guildmistress foresaw this long ago, Mistress. The guild structure is changing as the old ways are too slow to keep up with the changes. Women will certainly be employed in future, and not only as guildswomen." He smiled, "There will be other kinds of work, of course. If you do not desire to spend your days in the clamor of a workshop then I might suggest you consider becoming a guardswoman of the King. You are surely large enough for the task. If you can swing a sword you would be considered."

The woman was astonished. "What? More fable, surely."

Tord shook his head, "Not so, Mistress. We presently have four who are halfway through their training and we are about to select another four. They have qualities, so I am told, that men do not possess and may go where a man may not. If any of you may be interested, man or woman, give your name to Craftmaster Dubanar and he will send it to the palace for consideration."

Dubanar looked surprised to be volunteered but said, "Upon my oath, guardsman, I will see to it."

Tarvan looked more closely at the one-handed man. "Sheron? Is that you? I barely recognized you! What happened to you?"

"An accident, as you might expect, Master Tarvan. We were setting up some new equipment and a bench tipped over onto my hand and crushed it. This would have been about four years ago. The wound went bad and I had to have it removed. Well, I couldn't stay a guildsman, could I? Not with only one hand. Nobody wants a one-handed man, there's very little I can do."

Dubanar said to him, "That was never true, Sheron. The guild will always look after its own."

Sheron replied bitterly, "They didn't look after me. This was before your time, Craftmaster. Oh, I get a small pension but it is barely enough for life. All I can do now is watch others do what I cannot."

Dubanar turned to Tarvan. "I did not know this had happened to him, Tarvan. Though I pass this way every day I did not know he still lived so close." To Sheron he said, "Come to my office after I have discharged my duty to the King, Guildsman. You have been a faithful member of our guild in years past and I will find you something to do." He held up a finger. "A real task, not some make-work busybodying just to make ourselves feel better. What say you?"

Sheron stared at Dubanar. "You would do that, Craftmaster?" There were tears in his eyes. "I thought... If I may, I will attend the workshop after lunch."

A thin woman with two toddlers at her feet asked, "What about the rest of us? We ain't no guildsmen or women nor no guardswomen neither."

Dubanar replied, "Mistress, your first duty is to attend your children. At such a tender age they need the comfort and instruction of their mother." He considered. "Later, perhaps, we might find you part-time work, but not with children of that age, no."

Milsy couldn't let that one go. "Craftmaster, both palace and castle have creches for the children of those who work there. I know, I was born in Dekarran castle and spent my first six years in their creche. Have you space for a creche somewhere? Your workers will labor easier knowing that their children are in a safe place nearby."

A sudden thought came to Tarvan. "An excellent suggestion, Milsy. If I may add, Dubanar, you might also consider starting a school for the children that live around here. When Milsy came to reside at the palace barely three weeks ago she could not read nor write and so we had to teach her. Lady Garia has told us that all should be taught to read and write and if this is started at an early age the lessons are absorbed more rapidly. Reading, writing and the use of numbers will be important to all of us as Palarand makes changes into our futures."

Dubanar's eyes were wide. "You taught your journeywoman to read and write in three weeks? Incredible!"

Milsy replied, "Craftmaster, I am told that I have certain advantages and talents that these others may not possess. That, after all, is one reason why I am a guildswoman now and not still a kitchen servant. However, none may know what any of us is capable of until they are tested. Mayhap some of these standing before you have talents even they do not recognize."

Dubanar was at a loss for words. "But, but... I am a simple guildsman! My experience is the working of brass, not the tutoring of children. Who would pay for this new school? Those who attend certainly could not."

Tarvan grimaced. "You touch a sore point, Dubanar. This is another avian-and-the-egg problem, I deem. The new goods should provide the coin for such a school but until we have sold them we cannot make any changes. All I may suggest is that you find time to speak with these good people and discover what may be done for them immediately. Make no assumptions about what may be done and what may not. For my part, I will speak to Guildmaster Parrel as soon as I may. We must find a way, for if we do not the result will be chaos and squalor."

Dubanar nodded agreement, while the tavern customers stared at them with amazement on their faces. Expecting to find the fabled 'Guildmistress', they had instead become involved in a serious discussion about their own futures and the future of Palarand.

Sheron spoke. "Tarvan? You are no Guildmaster, are you? How have you the authority to decide such matters?"

"I am now a Craftmaster, Sheron, in a new department named electricity. I was chosen by the Guildmistress herself to found this craft. Guildmaster Parrel, myself and Journeywoman Milsy know her desires in these matters and we also know that the King and Queen will approve. I may not have the authority, if it is a document you desire, but I know what must needs be done and I may speak to those who do have the authority. Is that answer for you?"

"Aye, Craftmaster." His voice changed. "Thank you, Tarvan. Your words give hope to many of those standing here today."

There were murmurs from many in the crowd.

"Thank you, Sheron. I hope to hear good words of your future employment from Craftmaster Dubanar. And now, we must continue our errand for the King. If you good people would let us pass?"

The crowd parted to let them through and then closed into a circle in the middle of the lane to continue talking about what had just happened. Milsy heard raised voices but the tone did not appear to be that of anger but instead of surprise and hope. When she turned to look many of the crowd were staring at their party but they soon turned back to resume the discussion.

"This is the place, Tarvan," Dubanar said, gesturing at the front door of a small building that had once been a dwelling. "Will you require my assistance?"

"I should not think so," Tarvan replied with a smile. "If there is any trouble, a shout will bring our armsmen in at the run."

"Armsmen? I thought them to be of the Palace Guard." Dubanar looked more closely at the four, who stared back with interest. "Ah! Their sash, it is different, no? What does this mean, if I may ask? I regret that I do not know the customs around such attire."

Tord answered, "Craftmaster, all who have given oaths to the King and work in the palace wear similar garb, as you have already noticed. It is to permit us to tell retainer from stranger within the palace walls. Aye, our uniforms are those of the Palace Guard, indeed, we were all once His Majesty's men, but our sashes are those of Baroness Blackstone, whom you know as the Guildmistress. If you would notice Mistress Milsy's chaperone Bursila, she wears the attire of a palace servant but with Lady Garia's colors instead of His Majesty's."

"Ah, I see. A clever notion." Dubanar nodded. "If you are content, Parsan and I will wait outside in case anything is required."

Tarvan nodded. "As you wish, Dubanar."

Tarvan, Milsy and Bursila walked into the building to be met by one of the doorkeepers. Dubanar saw this and stepped forward.

"Hanno, these are Guildsmen and women from the palace. They are about the King's business, detain them at your peril."

Hanno bowed and stood aside, but he stared at Milsy and Bursila with open hostility.

Milsy turned to him. "Friend, I bear a Journeywoman's badge, given to me by Guildmaster Parrel himself. Can you read it?"

The man reluctantly stepped forward, unhappy to be so close to a female in a place where women had never been permitted before. It did not take him long to read the badge and when he did, he stepped back respectfully and bowed.

"Your pardon, Mistress. I have never seen such a badge before."

"That is because there is yet no other who has been awarded one, save only Guildmistress Garia herself. I approve your diligence at your job, doorkeeper. If we may pass? We are commanded by the King to seek Guildsman Fulvin."

"Of course, Journeywoman... Ah, Craftmaster, welcome. Fulvin labors within." A brief smile came. "He will not be difficult to find."

The doorkeeper stared at Bursila but did not accost her. She wore a servant's dress with a Guild badge and was obviously attending the Journeywoman, as was proper. With a nod, Tarvan, Milsy and Bursila passed through and into the room at the front of the building. At a bench on the other side of the room, Fulvin looked up at the interruption.

"Tarvan! Milsy! Welcome. What an unexpected surprise! You are just in time to see the results of my most recent experiment."

Fulvin was unshaven and apparently had not changed his clothing for several days. His hair was an uncombed mess and his eyes were alight with a fever Milsy recognized only too well. There had been a cook in the castle kitchens who had spent his time trying new recipes at the expense of preparing the meals everyone was waiting for, and so His Grace had reluctantly been forced to release him from his service. Here, Fulvin was completely consumed by the project in front of him to the exclusion of all else.

"Look!" He turned to the bench and scrabbled in a dish at the side of what Milsy recognized as a hand-pulled vertical press. He picked out a small item of brass and handed it to her. "So far as I can tell, this is made exactly the same as the one in the trousers the Guildmistress was wearing when she arrived."

The item was an exquisitely made zipper slide, though it was about double the size of the original. Fulvin had somehow managed to cut the correct shape and then bend it in the several ways necessary to fold it into what was required. All it lacked was the small tag which was needed to pull it up or down, but even Milsy knew that was a simple flat shape that would be easy to cut and fit.

"Master Fulvin, I am astonished," she said. "This is amazing. I thought it would be many years before we could make something as clever as this."

Fulvin was suddenly modest. "Milsy, I thought so too, but when I looked more closely I could discern the simple steps needful to cut such a shape from flat sheet and fold it into the object in your hand. I must needs shape from steel a number of stamps and dies to make what you see there but it required only knowledge of my craft, not ideas from another world."

"I think I understand. Have you yet made the little tag which is used to pull the slide up and down?"

"Aye, of course! Here, if you would permit me..."

He took the part from Milsy and found another from one of several small copper trays littering the workbench.

"See, I stamp the tags out with the end already bent out, so that I do not have to do that first. All I need do is place the two together and squeeze with a pliers, there!"

With a big smile he handed the finished product back to Milsy.

For a first effort it was remarkable and Milsy told Fulvin so.

She added, "But this is merely the slide, Master Fulvin. I assume you attempt the whole zipper?"

"Indeed, Milsy! If you would all follow me through to the rear rooms."

Fulvin walked past all three and disappeared into the hallway. Tarvan looked at Milsy, who shrugged.

"I admit to being interested," she said. "Let us find out how far he has gone before we tell him the bad news."

Tarvan nodded. "He should not even be here, but I agree." He gestured at the mess on the workbench. "This is more than I expected. Whatever he is doing, it must needs be continued, I deem."

Milsy took a closer look at the bench. There were two vertical presses, each operated by huge levers made from metal pipes which stretched partway across the room. At the back of the bench the dies were lined up in pairs, each of steel and laboriously shaped by hand. In front of them were trays used for the parts he was making. She realized that he had deliberately chosen copper trays so that he could see the small brass items clearly.

Tarvan headed for the door and Milsy followed, thoughtfully putting the zipper slide into her waist pouch as she did so. Along the hallway was a door to the back room of the dwelling and Tarvan led the way into it. Inside they found Fulvin waiting with a younger guildsman.

"This is Journeyman Halef," he introduced the man, "as you can see by his skin his parents are from northern regions, but he is himself a Palarandi born and bred. He has been working on another of the zipper problems, that of sorting the teeth into the correct direction and placement. Halef, this is Craftmaster Tarvan of the Electricity Department and his assistant Journeywoman Milsy. They have arrived from the palace to visit me."

Halef's eyes widened as Milsy nodded to him and stayed there as Bursila joined them in the room. He said nothing but merely nodded to them all. Fulvin pointed to a complicated device of brass on the bench.

"This is the machine! Halef, does it work now?"

"Aye, Master Fulvin. Do you wish it demonstrated for your friends?"

"Is that possible? I see no teeth in the hopper."

"Master, Kendo has all the teeth we have so far cut, the good ones, that is. I can ask him -"

Fulvin held up a hand. "That won't be necessary, I think. Tarvan, Milsy, the teeth are stamped out using a press in the shed at the back. Because of their shape they must needs be sorted and aligned all the same way in order to function properly when the slide is pulled. This machine does that sorting."

Milsy bent to see how the device worked. A exquisite arrangement of little trays and chutes which tumbled and selected the teeth by means of shaped holes, and then allowed them to run down little rails ready for use. The whole machine was shaken and tilted by a hand-wheel, but Milsy knew that it would probably be connected to a steam engine in the final version.

"Clever, Master Fulvin. Then I presume you must apply the teeth to a ribbon."

"Aye, Milsy. We have left and right-handed teeth and left and right-handed ribbon. That machine is almost ready to test, it required this one to present the teeth in the right alignment and order before we may proceed further."

"How long?" Tarvan asked, interested despite the circumstances. "I mean, how long before you may produce a zipper?"

Fulvin raised his hands wide. "Tarvan, I do not know. We now have all the parts of the process, but something still eludes me about the entire operation." He looked at Tarvan with interest. "My apologies! I have not asked you both why you have come. Do you require pel?"

Tarvan grimaced. "Our duty is an unpleasant one, Fulvin. We are instructed by the King to seek you out and return you to the palace. Both of Their Majesties are concerned that you have neglected your duties as Palace Jeweler."

Fulvin looked surprised. "But I was only there yesterday, nothing has been said to me."

Halef shook his head. "Master, you have remained in this building for five whole days."

"I have? I have?" His face paled. "Maker, I am in deep trouble!" He asked Tarvan, "Are they angry with me?"

"I could not say, Fulvin, but I imagine so. Any delay in returning would not help your case. I am told to say to you, that if you do not return with us, a file of His Majesty's men will be sent to fetch you."

The full import of his position dawned on Fulvin and the life went out of him. His shoulders slumped.

Turning to Halef he said, "Carry on as much as you can, Halef, and tell the others to do so as well. I will send word to you about the future." He paused. "Assuming that I have a future, that is."

Fulvin collected a coat and followed the others back into the lane, where he stood blinking in the sunlight. Their carriage had been brought to stand outside the door with their escort, mounted, waiting for them. A small crowd had gathered to watch the proceedings but this time they did not interfere.

He muttered, "I did not realize... Milsy, I have come so close! But I have abandoned my duty to my King. What will become of me?"

"Master Fulvin, I cannot predict what Their Majesties will say but I believe that your work here is important. If you would calm yourself until we return to the palace."

Dubanar now came forward. "Fulvin? I will attend the workshops and ensure that all is as it should be. If there is any question then I will send to the palace... Ah, I will send to Tarvan and he can pass a message on to you if that becomes necessary."

Fulvin bowed. "Thank you, Dubanar. In fact, Tarvan may be able to give answer, both he and Milsy have some knowledge of what is intended."

"As you will, Fulvin. When the Guild system works properly it benefits us all."

As they turned to board the carriage Milsy had a thought and turned to Fulvin. "The suit which Rosilda is making for me required buckles. Have you yet made those?"

The reply was shame-faced. "Milsy, it was to arrange for those buckles to be made that I came to Pakh Lane originally! If we may walk to the other workshop, just there, you may collect them and bring them with us."

Milsy turned to Tarvan who nodded. With a roll of the eyes she gestured to Tord to move the carriage again as they walked to the next workshop, which was a shed-like building wedged between two houses. There was no doorkeeper here. Inside the building they found benches running along each side with six guildsmen working presses.

"Here we make the little buckles required for your undergarments, Milsy, and also larger items of a like kind. Those there are square rings made for joining harness straps, these next ones are belt buckles, behind us are buckles for harness and Joran there is stamping out nibs for reeds, if you can believe it! Once we understood how such a press could be used, we kept discovering new things that may be made with one. The zipper is but one of the many items we may soon produce."

"Astonishing. We did not realize just how much you have managed to do."

"Aye, Milsy. I am surprised myself. But then, you were tranced by those clocks, were you not?"

"I grant you the point, Master Fulvin. If I may ask, where are the buckles you spoke of?"

Fulvin walked along the workshop and stooped to pick items out of a wicker basket beside one of the men. He handed them to Milsy.

"Are these what you requested?"

"Aye, they are! And so well finished, Master Fulvin."

"As you say. Our articles are of course finished to the highest standards before they leave this workshop. Let me find the larger buckle you asked for and then we may go."

* * *

"I do not see Fulvin here, dear. Did you not find him? Or did he refuse to return with you?"

Milsy was seated near the Queen at the lunch table and looked up to answer.

"Ma'am, we did find him, and he did return with us, but he was not in a fit condition to present himself before Your Majesties. He will take his meal privately in his quarters and present himself whenever you may find it convenient afterwards."

"Not in a fit condition? Maker, what has he been doing to himself?"

Tarvan leaned forward from beyond Milsy. "Ma'am, he has not been doing much at all, and that is the problem. He has been so... focused... on his work that he has neither washed nor changed his clothes for several days. Before he may present himself before yourself and the King he must needs bathe thoroughly and find new attire."

"Ma'am," Milsy added, "this project of his is like a bog and he has become deeply mired in it. As I have discovered myself, when something interesting strikes such a spark, it can be difficult to struggle free again. Fortunately I have Tarvan to remind me of my duty but Master Fulvin does not."

The Queen's face showed what she thought of Fulvin's lack of personal care. "I see that we must take him in hand, husband. As our Court Jeweler the work he has produced in the past has been excellent. I do not know if Parrel could find us a suitable replacement."

"Hmm? Aye, my dear. Fulvin is better than our previous jeweler, I agree, but in Palarand today there is only one person who may not be replaced and she is presently in Blackstone." Robanar smiled at Milsy. "Of course, my dear, I do not overlook your own efforts but I must be blunt. Fulvin is after all, just a Court Jeweler, even as I am just the present King. The court of Palarand has employed a Court Jeweler for more than three hundred years and Fulvin will not be the last, I deem. If his work suffers because he has become distracted then I must do what is necessary for the proper functioning of the court."

Milsy thought. "Sire, I find I cannot disagree. But, if I may ask, what exactly is it that Fulvin does? I mean, for the court?"

"Why, Milsy, as you might expect, he attends to all the jewelry that any who reside in the palace may wear. That includes, of course, state items like our crowns, coronets, badges, brooches and awards. In addition he must needs engrave any seal or signet that is required. Indeed, he has recently made such for Garia." Robanar waved a hand. "Oh, there are other small tasks of the like he may attend to at need. Badges and staves of office, for example, for those like Kendar who require them."

"Ah, I see, Sire. Does he have journeymen? I do not know if he has any staff, Sire. He has not mentioned any."

"He does have staff," Terys said thoughtfully. "Aye, perhaps we should consider them, husband."

Robanar grunted. "We will, my dear, but first, we must deal with the guildsman himself, who should have been here supervising his staff."

When the meal had finished Robanar and Terys rose to go to their parlor with Kendar, intending to summon Fulvin. Milsy asked if she and Tarvan could be present.

"Hmm? You have an interest in this matter, my dear?"

"Aye, Sire. I may not interfere in what you intend to do but it is possible that the circumstances have not been completely explained. After visiting the workshop today I would offer some words in Master Fulvin's defense."

Robanar's eyebrows shot up and stayed there. "Indeed? Then you and Tarvan may accompany us. I would not have it said that I have not considered all aspects of a matter before I give judgment."

Everyone settled themselves in the parlor to await Fulvin's answer to his summons. When he appeared he went down on one knee before the King and bowed his head.

"Sire, I beg forgiveness. I have forgotten the duty I swore oath to do, I have abandoned the palace in pursuit of a dream."

Robanar replied, "I have been told that what you seek may be no dream, guildsman. You have been party to many of the ideas that Garia has revealed to Palarand, I do not wonder that your attention has been turned. However, that is not why you are in the employ of our household. What say you?"

"Sire, I am returned from the city but two bells ago. I do not know what tasks await me here that I should have done for you. If you desire to remove me from my post and employ another I would not complain, I would deserve such a fate."

Robanar considered. "Unfortunately for us, you are among the best at the work you should have been doing. I am minded not to dismiss you but retain you for your abilities and impose a lesser punishment."

Fulvin looked up with surprise. "Sire?"

"To begin with, a stiffly worded note to Parrel, I deem. Your dereliction is a Guild matter and he must provide some suitable remedy. For ourselves, I will expect you to appear at every meal in the palace from today forward, this will ensure your presence within the palace. We have tasks for you, they must be completed before you may direct your attention elsewhere."

Fulvin bowed his head again. "As you command, Sire."

Terys said, "Dear, Milsy has some words to say."

"Of course, my dear." To Fulvin Robanar explained, "Milsy wishes to say something in your defense."

Fulvin looked at Milsy in surprise. He had thought that she and Tarvan had been present as witnesses to his dereliction. Robanar gestured to Milsy.

"Sire, in order to find Master Fulvin it was necessary for us to enter the workshop where he was," she explained. "Because we were there, he showed us what he was doing and I think that his project is worth continuing."

"What was he doing, my dear?"

"He is attempting to make a zipper, Sire. And he has almost managed to do it, too. If I may show you."

Milsy dug into her pouch for the slide but there were too many things in it. Even though Bursila carried the customary bag with her Mistress's normal requirements Milsy had taken to carrying a certain number of tools herself. As she dug through the bag her face became redder and redder.

"Sire, if you would excuse me, I have too much in this bag. If I may use the table."

Robanar gestured again and she stood, walking over to the side table where Terys's maids usually placed the drinks and snacks. Out came a small screwdriver, two pairs of pliers, a tiny auger, a small magnifying glass, a rod with a hook on the end for pulling wires, four screws she had forgotten were in there, two needle files, a dining fork and the three buckles she had collected earlier that day. Finally, from the bottom of the pouch she pulled out the slide.

"Milsy, dear," Terys asked, eyeing the collection on the table, "do you really need to carry all that around with you?"

Milsy looked at the items. "Some, Ma'am, but not all. Um, actually there are others I would carry if I could. I have asked Rosilda to provide me with special pouches to carry tools whenever I need them." She held out the slide for Terys's hand. "This is what I was looking for, Ma'am."

The Queen's eyes widened when she took the item and then she turned to Fulvin.

"You have made a slide for the zipper? Already?"

"Aye, Ma'am. I should not -"

Terys held up a hand. "And do you attempt the whole zipper?"

"Aye, Ma'am."

"How much work is left to do? I do not need details, only time."

"Ma'am, as I was explaining to these two earlier, I do not know, except that it will not be much longer. If you would ask them to tell you, Ma'am, they have inspected my workshop in Pakh Lane."

Robanar grunted. "Pakh Lane? Oh, where the brass workshops are. I understand."

Terys turned to Milsy.

"Ma'am, from what I saw Master Fulvin has almost completed the impossible. I saw many new machines of an intricate nature and it may not be long before a zipper is produced. I believe it to be in the interests of Palarand that his project be completed."

Terys held out the slide on the palm of her hand. "If this is any guide you may be right, dear. Husband, this changes things. While Fulvin must needs complete some of the urgent work that his duty requires of him I would ask that he be permitted to finish the zipper project."

"If I may look at it, my dear."

Robanar inspected the small brass item before turning to Fulvin, who was still on his knees.

"This work is as good as any you have done for the palace, Fulvin. How much of this is made by your hand?"

"None of it, Sire. It is all done with presses and other machinery. When we have proved the process then even a journeyman may be able to make zippers, Sire."

"Indeed? Then both the Queen and Milsy are right, I deem. Very well. You must complete those urgent tasks which await you in your workshop... ahem! your workshop here in the palace. If and when you have free time you may continue this project but," Robanar waved a finger, "your palace work must come first. Do you understand?"

"Aye, Sire. As you command, Sire."

"Then rise, Fulvin. I will still write a note for Parrel, and I still require your attendance at meal times, but you have shown us that your time has not been wasted but spent diligently in the interests of Palarand."

As Fulvin staggered to his feet he said, "Thank you, Sire. I shall not fail you again."

"Indeed not, Fulvin. The next time that something of the like takes your fancy then you must needs apply to me first before you make more trouble for yourself. You may go."

Fulvin bowed. "As you command, Sire."

As the door closed behind the Court Jeweler, Terys turned to Milsy. "I understand you had an interesting ride today, dear. Shall you tell us about it?"

"Ma'am, it was interesting and some things happened that you ought to know about. Well, when we first arrived in Pakh Lane..."