The afternoon sun hung low over the Swabian hills. Konrad had spent hours counting the sheep to ensure Uncle Lothar had not secretly sold them to Augsburg rchants.
Beside him stood Franz, the head shepherd, wrapped in a coarse cloak and leaning on his crook.
He looked terrified. Lords rarely visited the pastures unless to hunt, collect taxes, or conscript n.
Konrad finished his tally, closed his ledger, and turned to the shepherd. "The flock is healthy, Franz,"
"But I have a need. I require ten pounds of pure sheep’s tallow. lted down cleanly. No at or water."
Konrad needed this for his new wheel-lock pistols. Master Dieter’s new water-powered grinding wheels would create great heat and friction. Without good grease, the iron gears would bind and the stones would crack. He needed the tallow before the week’s end.
Franz swallowed hard. "Ten pounds is a great deal of fat, Lord Konrad. I must slaughter three older ewes. It belongs to the estate, of course... I will begin tomorrow."
"You mistake , Franz," Konrad interrupted, reaching into his pouch. "I am not taking it by right. I am buying it."
Konrad offered a silver coin. Franz stared at the young lord.
"Lord Konrad..." Franz stamred. "The sheep are your property. I am your servant. You need not pay ."
"Taking your labor without coin is foolish," Konrad explained, pressing the silver into the shepherd’s hand. "If I take without paying, you will have no reason to work hard. You will hide your best sheep and render the fat poorly. But if I pay you with good silver, you will work well to earn more. Take the coin. Bring the tallow to the smithy by Friday."
Franz stared at the coin in shock. "My Lord... this is a Batzen!"
"It is a Swabian silver Batzen, yes." Konrad nodded.
"But ten pounds of tallow is barely worth a few copper Hellers!" Franz protested, terrified this was a trick.
A silver Batzen was worth dozens of copper Hellers—a fortune for a peasant!
Konrad frowned, thinking of the Empire’s ruined coin. The local lords were clipping silver and mixing it with lead to fund their wars. Commoners like Franz were forced to use cheap copper Hellers and Pfennigs, while nobles hoarded the good silver Thalers and gold Florins.
"The copper Hellers you use are ruined," Konrad said. "That Batzen holds true silver. Keep it. Once the estate is secure, I will lt the bad coin and strike true silver money. Good silver is the only way to save our lands."
Franz bowed. "I will render the finest tallow in Swabia, Lord Konrad!"
"See that you do," Konrad replied. "I need only the best grease."
Leaving the shepherd, Konrad walked back to the castle. By the ti he passed the iron gate, it was dark.
He was tired and slled of sheep dung, mud, and rancid grease from the watermill. He only wanted to remove his cold clothes, eat his supper, and sleep.
In the stone hall, his young sister, Elise, stepped into his path. She wore a clean blue dress. As Konrad approached, she pinched her nose and stepped back.
"By the Saints, Konrad!" Elise gasped. "You sll like a rotting carcass! What have you been doing?"
Konrad looked down at his ruined tunic. Her judgnt was fair...
"I have been fixing the watermill’s gears and counting the flock," Konrad said. He held up a clay jar containing the rancid grease he needed to replace. Elise pointed at it in disgust.
"What is in that vile thing?"
"It is old animal fat, marrow, and iron rust. It stinks because it is rotting."
Elise shrieked. "Keep it away! You are a lord, Konrad, not a butcher!"
"Your disgust keeps you from sickness~" he noted. "But you have soot on your cheek. Dirt on the skin can cause boils. Wash your face with lye soap before bed."
Elise stared at him, dumbfounded. Without a word, she turned and fled, unnerved by his strange manner.
Konrad watched her go. As he turned toward his study, he saw movent in the shadows.
It was Hansel, a page in Uncle Lothar’s service. The boy was pretending to clean a candle holder, but his eyes darted nervously toward Konrad.
Nobles like Lothar viewed servants as mindless beasts, speaking freely in front of them...
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