Free The Pen and the Sword (Destiny's Crucible Book 2) by Olan Thorensen Page B

noticed. However, today, curiosity ruled her attention.
Yozef explained the basics of distillation and the equipment Filtin and his
crew worked on. The next hour served as a crash course in distillation and an occasion
for Maera to demonstrate her quick grasp of new concepts. She stopped the
explainer, be it Yozef or Filtin, whenever she didn’t fully grasp any aspect.
It made for a slow beginning, though progress accelerated as her understanding
grew.
    Once
the explanations and her questions slackened, they went into an adjacent room
to witness a production run of ether. Now that she had heard the principles of
distillation and seen the ether condense on top of the glass column, then the rivulets
as they ran down and dripped into the collection receptacle, she smiled and
clapped her hands in appreciation. By this time, Filtin’s manner had relaxed in
his eagerness to explain to an interested outsider what to him was obviously a
work of love, and the banter she’d witnessed when they first arrived gradually returned.
Maera had not been around many common workers, except at Keelan Manor, and she
remained surprised at the workers’ level of enthusiasm and their casual
camaraderie with their employer.
    Filtin
accompanied them to other shops, and they finished briefer tours of the kerosene
and soap facilities by mid-day.
    “Would
you like to return to the abbey for mid-day meal, Sen Keelan?” asked Yozef. The
dray and the driver remained near the distillation shop.
    “I
believe the cannon foundry is next,” said Maera, “and then gunpowder and the
bank. Perhaps there’s somewhere to eat here in the Abersford. Where were you
planning on mid-day meal?”
    “Oh,
I usually just drop in on whatever shop is next, and the men and women give me
something.”
    Give
him something? How odd .
    “In
that case, if they could spare a little more, perhaps we should just proceed to
the next demonstration.”
    “Okay,”
said Yozef and turned away to a worker checking a new glass column.
    Oh-kay ?
    Filtin
saw her puzzlement. “It’s an expression from Yozef’s homeland, Sen Keelan. Okay means something like ‘yes’ or ‘in agreement’ or generally positive. You’ll find
the expression has become common here in Abersford.”
    “Thank
you, Ser . . . er . . . I didn’t get your family name.”
    “Fuller,
Sen Keelan. Filtin Fuller.”
    “Thank
you, Ser Fuller.”
    Maera
hadn’t missed Fuller’s surprise when she suggested she eat with Yozef and the workers
at the foundry. Her forthrightness came to the fore.
    If
you want to know something, silly—ask!
    “Ser
Fuller, you looked surprised when I suggested I accompany Ser Kolsko to the
foundry to eat there. Please tell me why?”
    Fuller
was obviously ill at ease with the question. She looked straight at him and
waited, with the “I’m the hetman’s daughter and you need to answer” look she
had cultivated.
    “Well,
you’re the hetman’s daughter. One doesn’t expect someone like you to eat
mid-day meal with workers, particularly sharing their food.”
    “But
Ser Kolsko does it?”
    “Yes,
but Yozef is . . . different.”
    Maera
could tell she was on to something. What she didn’t know, but her
instincts told her she needed this man to open up.
    “I’m
very curious, Filtin . . . may I call you Filtin?” she said, in as friendly a
voice as she could manage.
    Filtin
blinked several times in surprise that the hetman’s daughter wanted to call him
by his first name, something usually reserved for after persons were better acquainted.
    “Why
. . . that’s fine, Sen Keelan.” It never occurred to either of them that he
would use her first name.
    Confident
that she had established personal rapport with Filtin, she continued. “So, Filtin,
obviously Yozef is an important person, not only here in Abersford but for all
of Keelan, due to the many innovations he has introduced. Yet all the workers
seem more familiar with him than one might expect. Why is