The next morning the four men chosen to go up in the observation balloon climbed into the basket as though they were going to the hangman.
Our balloonist had done this many times, so there was no messing around. I recognized the man in the balloon with the Chinese. It was one of the young men that had helped Peter Owen-nap.
He was now an officer in our fledgling airforce and had done well for himself. The balloon rope was let out five hundred feet, and they had the balloon up in the air quickly. High enough they would get a good view of the countryside.
They were up for about half an hour when the balloonist waved a flag to be lowered. The four riders were all smiling and waving their arms as they tried to explain how far they could see and the detail the telescope revealed.
I gathered they were telling the Lead Merchant they had to have one of these. What they really needed was the knowledge of how to make the balloon envelope and generate hydrogen gas. We used iron filings and sulfuric acid. So I guess they would need to know how to make the acid.
I mentally reviewed what the Chinese might have to trade.
Silk was the main commodity. According to the Chinese, silk was discovered one day when a queen accidentally dropped a silkworm cocoon into her hot cup of tea, and as she plucked it out, she unraveled a shiny, silken thread.
They might also be carrying snow-white vases, bowls, glasses, and dishes with graceful patterns. Only the Chinese owned the secret of producing the thinnest and most resonant porcelain, which would be very costly. Not that silk wouldn't be.
They might have bronze ornaments or ornate bronze mirrors. Since we could do these better, especially the mirrors, I wasn't interested in them.
There might be gold, skins, and a number of other goods such as tea and rice, amber, cinnamon. Asbestos and woolen and flaxen fabrics, and corals.
Gold and skins we had. Tea and asbestos would be hot items. The rest would be good, but not show-stoppers. Well, I did like cinnamon buns.
After my mental list, I tried to set a value for each item. It proved to be too difficult. I would have to see what was offered and negotiate from there.
At breakfast I asked the Lead Merchant if anything he had seen was worth his attention.
It was no surprise that some did. He was most interested in microscopes and telescopes. After that it was intellectual property.
Since it had been made clear from the start they were most interested in microscopes and telescopes, I asked him what they were worth to him. He knew I had him over a barrel, as he needed to make a deal while I didn't. That didn't mean he wouldn't drive a hard bargain.
He offered a chest of tea per microscope and telescope. I wasn't a tea drinker, so it didn’t matter to me if we got any. I countered with one bolt of silk instead of a chest of tea.
He acted as though I was asking for his first and second born. He carried on for so long I finally sprung my last surprise.
"Haven't the worms been spinning many cocoons? Or has the thread made from heating been of poor quality? It could be the mulberry leaves. I'm sure your people will sort it out."
The secret of silk making was jealously guarded by the Chinese. The fact that it came from silkworms had been known for several hundred years, but heating the cocoons, and spinning the silk thread would be a Chinese monopoly for another thousand years.
My casual comment upset him to no end. How did I know this great secret? It was death in China to reveal it.
We haggled back and forth for two days. He had the know-how to build and launch an observation balloon when negotiations were over. How to make penicillin was free. The formula for spring steel was worth a lot to him. Of course, he had a one-for-one trade on bolts of silk and optical instruments.
His spies thought they could manufacture the glass needed.
Almost as an afterthought, he told me they had one more item we might be interested in. It was part of a trade with another caravan that had been to Afghanistan as I knew it or the Kartid realm as it existed now.
They had five hundred pounds of opium. He knew it would dull the senses and relieve pain. I knew how to purify it and get heroin and morphine.
I told him we could trade for it, but I would give him five more telescopes for the entire lot. He held out for ten. I gave in after an hour of back and forth.
It took two more days for the items we had traded to be packaged for their long trip to China. When all was ready, I went with them to Armorica accompanied by one hundred troops to ensure the safety of our goods. Not that I didn’t trust them to leave all the goods they owed us, but trust and verify as the man said.
The night before they were to leave, I threw a party for them with plenty of drinks. While they were partying, I had my spies go through their belongings and confiscate any written notes found. We couldn't read them, but it would prevent them from stealing all our information.
As far as I knew, they hadn’t been exposed to the rifle, crossbow mass production, or steam engine projects.
With them safely on their two-year journey back home, I returned to Owen-nap. After spending an evening with my wife and children, I met with Lady Agnes.
I explained the properties of opium and how it would dull the senses. And how morphine could be extracted from opium. Morphine would cause a person to go unconscious and feel no pain while being operated on. Instead of killing someone from shock with an amputation, they would most likely live.
Once more, from the books in my mind, I read up on how to extract morphine and dictated it to one of my Monk scribes. I shouldn’t call them Monks anymore. They started as Monks but had become my scribes and wouldn't return to the Monastery once they saw the rest of the world.
This is what I wrote.
To create a morphine base, opium is added to boiling water. The raw opium dissolves into a clear brown liquid. Plant scrapings and other impurities float to the top to be scooped up.
Slaked lime is added to the liquid. The morphine alkaloid reacts with the lime to form a solution.
The solution is poured through a filter to remove any impurities, such as other alkaloids, that have sunk to the bottom.
Concentrated ammonia is added to the solution and is then reheated. The morphine solidifies and settles at the bottom of the pot.
A cloth filters out the solid white chunks of morphine base. The morphine base, which makes up about 10 percent of the original quantity of raw opium, is wrapped into blocks and dried.
It then can be compressed as a tablet or dissolved in purified water and injected.
We would need to invent the hypodermic needle, and that would be a problem.
I then went to speak to Frank Goldman. He had become a permanent resident of the Jewish community and was the representative of the trading houses that kept their money here.
"Frank, do any of your traders enter the Kartid Empire?"
"I think several of the houses make trips there. Why?"
"I would like to arrange regular shipments of opium."
"Why would you want that stuff? It is a dangerous drug and is highly addictive."
"You are correct, but we can refine it to a lifesaving painkiller.”
"The right dosage of morphine causes a person to be unconscious and not realize that major surgery is being performed. They won't feel pain until the effects wear off. You are right. The nurses have to be careful so the patient doesn't become addicted, but it allows operations that would normally kill a person."
"Is the refining going to be a secret?"
"At first, but we will sell the morphine powder at a low price."
"How long does it last?"
"If you mean how long before it deteriorates if kept dry, it will be effective for more than seven years. While it does not have to be kept cold, keeping it from high heat is better."
"How much do you want?"
"Since the poppies have a growing season. One thousand pounds a season would be good."
"What are you willing to pay?"
"What would you suggest?"
"I would offer a silver a pound."
"Let's start with that. I want the opium, so I'm willing to pay more, but that is a good start."
"What would the powder sell for?"
"A thousand pounds of opium would yield one hundred pounds of morphine. To get my money back and pay for transportation and refining, I would have to sell the powder for twenty silver per pound since a pound of the powder would give us about eighteen hundred tablets. Selling one hundred pills at a time at two silver each would pay all costs and leave a modest profit."
"I can work with that."
"Do it."
"Okay, see you Sæternesdæg night?"
"Eleanor told me we had been invited for dinner."
"See you then."
Walking back to the Keep I thought about out how the days got their names.
The Britons were betwixt and between the Vikings, the Romans, the Angles, and the Saxons on what they called their days of the week. It ended up as a little of each.
My Monday was called Monandæg (Moon’s Day) – the day of the moon, in Old Norse Máni, Mani “Moon”.
Tuesday is Tiwesdæg (Tiw’s-Day) – the day of the god of war and combat. He was also famed for his honor, justice, and courage.
Wednesday – Wodnesdæg (Woden’s Day) – the day of the chief Anglo-Saxon god Woden (Norse Odin). Also associated with war, Anglo-Saxon warriors.
Thursday or Ðunresdæg (Thor’s Day) – the day of the god Ðunor or Thunor. One of the most famous gods in Norse mythology. Thor is widely recognized as the hammer-wielding god associated with thunder, lightning, and fertility.
Friday is known here as Frigedæg (Frige’s Day – the day of the goddess Frige (Norse Frigg), wife to Woden. Woden’s wife was the goddess of love and was associated with everything related to home, marriage, and children. Recognized as the mother of the earth, the Anglo-Saxons would look to her to provide a good harvest.
Saturday was a Roman day, Sæternesdæg (Saturn’s Day) – the day of the Roman god Saturn, whose festival “Saturnalia,” with its exchange of gifts, has been incorporated into our celebration of Christmas.
Sunday was Sunnandæg (Sun’s Day) – the day of the sun, in Old Norse Sól, Sol, “Sun.”
Rather than do all that translation in my mind, I used the day names I grew up with.
Later that night I gave the silk to Eleanor, only keeping two bolts to use as filter material. She also got all the fine porcelain to distribute as she saw fit. Eleanor told me I was a good husband for letting her dispose of these treasures. I saw it as avoiding catfights.
Wondering what my wife would do with all those tons of silk reminded me, for some reason, that gunpowder for large cartridges such as those used in cannon was packaged in silk. Now I would have to beg some back from her.
All I could hope was some of the colors were ugly. There weren't any ugly colors, I found out later, as none of the silk had been dyed. Now, I had to come up with better dyes. My work is never done.