Read Online The Fairytale Keeper: Avenging the Queen by Andrea Cefalo - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Andrea Cefalo
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toddler then. Mother learned to read and write by standing over the shoulder of her Father, and later even aided him in his work.
I pick up the first tablet and read the list of orders. There are at least a dozen. I sigh. Not only should this order be done, we should also have a surplus of turn shoes to be sold at the market to the pilgrims who have already started to fill the streets and churches of Cologne. This is where we make the most coin.
There is only one finished pair of shoes on the table, minus the straps, and several others in different stages of completion: a red pair with only the sole, several tan pairs, and one pair in the new royal purple with only the heels completed. I pick through the scraps in the baskets. We need leather. I look at the list again.
Wilthelm Aducht had placed an order over a week ago for nearly twenty summer pairs. He wants five pairs of ankle boots for himself in tan, dark brown, blue, red, and purple, and a dozen pairs for his wife Elizabeth, and his daughter Matthild. Instead of straps he has requested decorative clasps with his family’s crest to be attached to buckles on each shoe. These were to be delivered by the gold and silversmiths yesterday. I look for the clasps, but do not see them. I hope the smiths are behind and we shan’t be blamed if the shoes are a few days late.
There are other orders here and there; one for a baker, one for each member of a carpenter’s family… What worries me most is that as soon as the Aduchts are seen in their extravagant new shoes the other patricians and burghers shall place orders in an effort to appear even wealthier. Truthfully, it is a wonderful problem to have.
Father snores again. I unwind the purse from his belt loop, return the silver coins, and head back to Hay Market.
12 March, 1247 Evening
There was once a shoemaker who worked very hard and was very honest, but still he could not earn enough to live upon. At last all he had in the world was gone, save for just leather enough to make one pair of shoes.
Then he cut his leather out, all ready to make up the next day, meaning to rise early in the morning to his work. His conscience was clear and his heart light amidst all his troubles, so he went peaceably to bed, left all his cares to Heaven, and soon fell asleep. In the morning after he had said his prayers, he sat himself down to his work; when, to his great wonder, there stood the shoes already made, upon the table. The good man knew not what to say or think at such an odd thing happening. He looked at the workmanship; there was not one false stitch in the whole job. All was so neat and true that it was quite a masterpiece.
-The Elves and the Shoemaker
***
“I need a yard each of red, royal purple, blue—”
“Adelaide? Is that you, Adelaide?” Michael, our tanner, turns around.
I look up from beneath my cloak and nod.
“I didn’t expect to see you. My sympathies for your mother.”
“Thank you,” I say quickly through a tight throat, blinking back a stray tear. I look down so no one notices and dig through the purse pretending to count the coins.
“And a yard each of gold and violet. Then I need five yards of tan and five yards of dark brown. How much is that?”
“Six silver groschens.” I know I owe a few pfennigs more, but I accept his generosity for arguing would only bring attention to his discount and anger the guild members. He cuts and folds the leather into a pile and ties it off with twine so I can carry it easily. I hand him the coins and he places the leather on the table.
“A good day to you, Herr,” I say and turn to leave.
“Give your Father my regards,” he calls after me.
“Thank you, I shall.” I turn and nod my head, then pull the hood tighter and walk back to Filzengraben and into Father’s shop. I fear I shall wake him if I work at his table so I take the materials to the table by the hearth. I am grateful for its emptiness and for Galadriel’s extended
I pick up the first tablet and read the list of orders. There are at least a dozen. I sigh. Not only should this order be done, we should also have a surplus of turn shoes to be sold at the market to the pilgrims who have already started to fill the streets and churches of Cologne. This is where we make the most coin.
There is only one finished pair of shoes on the table, minus the straps, and several others in different stages of completion: a red pair with only the sole, several tan pairs, and one pair in the new royal purple with only the heels completed. I pick through the scraps in the baskets. We need leather. I look at the list again.
Wilthelm Aducht had placed an order over a week ago for nearly twenty summer pairs. He wants five pairs of ankle boots for himself in tan, dark brown, blue, red, and purple, and a dozen pairs for his wife Elizabeth, and his daughter Matthild. Instead of straps he has requested decorative clasps with his family’s crest to be attached to buckles on each shoe. These were to be delivered by the gold and silversmiths yesterday. I look for the clasps, but do not see them. I hope the smiths are behind and we shan’t be blamed if the shoes are a few days late.
There are other orders here and there; one for a baker, one for each member of a carpenter’s family… What worries me most is that as soon as the Aduchts are seen in their extravagant new shoes the other patricians and burghers shall place orders in an effort to appear even wealthier. Truthfully, it is a wonderful problem to have.
Father snores again. I unwind the purse from his belt loop, return the silver coins, and head back to Hay Market.
12 March, 1247 Evening
There was once a shoemaker who worked very hard and was very honest, but still he could not earn enough to live upon. At last all he had in the world was gone, save for just leather enough to make one pair of shoes.
Then he cut his leather out, all ready to make up the next day, meaning to rise early in the morning to his work. His conscience was clear and his heart light amidst all his troubles, so he went peaceably to bed, left all his cares to Heaven, and soon fell asleep. In the morning after he had said his prayers, he sat himself down to his work; when, to his great wonder, there stood the shoes already made, upon the table. The good man knew not what to say or think at such an odd thing happening. He looked at the workmanship; there was not one false stitch in the whole job. All was so neat and true that it was quite a masterpiece.
-The Elves and the Shoemaker
***
“I need a yard each of red, royal purple, blue—”
“Adelaide? Is that you, Adelaide?” Michael, our tanner, turns around.
I look up from beneath my cloak and nod.
“I didn’t expect to see you. My sympathies for your mother.”
“Thank you,” I say quickly through a tight throat, blinking back a stray tear. I look down so no one notices and dig through the purse pretending to count the coins.
“And a yard each of gold and violet. Then I need five yards of tan and five yards of dark brown. How much is that?”
“Six silver groschens.” I know I owe a few pfennigs more, but I accept his generosity for arguing would only bring attention to his discount and anger the guild members. He cuts and folds the leather into a pile and ties it off with twine so I can carry it easily. I hand him the coins and he places the leather on the table.
“A good day to you, Herr,” I say and turn to leave.
“Give your Father my regards,” he calls after me.
“Thank you, I shall.” I turn and nod my head, then pull the hood tighter and walk back to Filzengraben and into Father’s shop. I fear I shall wake him if I work at his table so I take the materials to the table by the hearth. I am grateful for its emptiness and for Galadriel’s extended
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