"The Art of Being - An Interview with Count Wilfred of Barcelona"
Cerdanya, Catalonia, Spain
10 October 877
Wilfred walks towards us a smile on his face as he welcomes us to his seaside home in Cerdanya. "My brother told me that it would be beneficial to speak with you about some kind of project for someone named Catalina of Spain. I am sure she will be a great woman. Now let us eat some food. You have two choices for food. Escudella i carn d'olla or Arròs negre amb allioli." He looks at us with a grin and I smile shifting uneasily on the balls of my feet.
"Meleci please why are you so uneasy. You do not seem like someone who is denied any food." Count Wilfred pointed out.
"Are you calling me fat?" I bristled angrily as he threw back his head and gave a hearty laugh.
"Do you think you are fat?" Wilfred said trying and failing to choke back his laughter.
"Well my mother loves giving me rice pudding and fish every time I visit her. She is Greek. But lives in Cataluyna taking care of my ailing father who cheated on her with his mistress. He is dying of a heatstroke and malnourishment." I said speaking too much. I covered my mouth my eyes widening in shame. My father would have been very upset if he knew I had told the Count of his infidelity.
"You are ashamed." Wilfred said flatly looking at me his gaze gentle.
"Well would not you be? If your father cheated on your mother? And forsook his marriage vows? My father is Greek Orthodox and he loves his wife dearly. But not enough to give up his mistress who gave birth to his greatest ideas of making a painting of the Hera and her husband on Olympus." I said hotly.
"I honor my father and what he taught me Meleci." Wilfred said his hand outstretched. I took it uncertainly and he led me to a chair and sat down next to me. "Do you want some water to drink? Or some tea?"
"Water." I said my heart speeding like a drumbeat.
"Excellent. Give me a few moments." He smiled and I heard doors open and close. "Do you want some lime in your water?" He said loudly. I looked up in interest. Lime? What was this?
"I could try some. If it would please you. But only if you find it agreeable. I have no idea why you are putting lime in my water." I said my words coming out rushed in Catalan.
"No matter. We have enough time. Enough time before my brother comes back to take you to his home to talk to you. You can come back and talk to me some more later!" He smiled and knelt down at my eye level.
I looked away unable to stand his pity. "Meleci look at me." Wilfred said softly.
"I cannot look at you sire. I have failed my father. I have failed my father's future plans for me." I mumbled. "I don't know why I am even doing this interview. This is stupid. I am going to leave. I have failed. I am a failure." I tried to stand up but he put a hand on my knee and my breathing became erratic.
"Do you want something to drink? Or do you want to drink bitterness until you pass away?" Wilfred said softly his tone understanding.
" Can I have the water and some food?" I said.
"What are five things you see?" Wilfred said backing away but speaking in a calming tone.
"I see your hair. You are very hairy." I said grinning.
"Yes they call me Wilfred the Hairy." He said smiling back. "Go on."
"I see a a hammer on the table. With some nails and wood. Are you a carpenter?" I said curiously.
"Good insight!" He said throwing his fist in the air and I laughed tears coming to my eyes. "I carve wood for my clients as a side hobby for diplomatic purposes and to support my wife and children. Having a family is not cheap and I want to teach my children to not rely on the State for a source of income."
"But would it not be easier for them to rely on the State?" I said my interest piqued.
"Is this for Catalina or for me to answer in my own time?" He said calmly.
"Talk at length about yourself first." I offered.
"Do you have a list of questions?" He said eagerly.
"I do. But give me my food first." I bargained.
"Which one?" He asked.
"The one with soup." I said quietly my belly rumbling. He stood and I rose as he grabbed his jacket and boots and headed out the door. "This is so not apart of the interview! Wilfred!" I said as he walked quickly down the road. "Where are you going?" I called after him running after him.
"To my beef farmer." He said simply. "Then after we eat we can go on a walk. You look like you need it."
"Okay. Fine. What are the ingredients for the soup?" I asked.
"Pork or beef or poultry. A large meatball called pilota. Chickpeas. Herbs. Vegetables. And other things." He said ticking them off absently.
"And we have to walk!" I yelled.
"You are interviewing me. Remember that. Now shut up and walk." Wilfred chided tapping my arm as a horse galloped by us. "You really need to exercise more Meleci."
"I am trying. I don't have enough time." I insisted.
He raised an eyebrow in contradiction. "You took a horse all the way here to visit me to interview me. I have less time than you do. But I make time for the important things. You clearly do not. Why is that?"
"I was never instructed how." I said softly.
"Great!" He said dragging me towards a place that said pigs for sale. "I can teach you."
"Wilfred. What are you doing here on this delightful morning?" The farmer asked joyfully in Arabic.
"Hello! It is nice to see you again." Wilfred said excitedly as they kissed on both cheeks and shook hands. I looked askance around wanting to be anywhere else but there at that moment. "I can let him interview you if you want. You see he doesn't understand much I am afraid." Wilfred whispered in Arabic as his friend looked at me in sympathy.
"Good idea. Now introduce us and tell me what you need." The beef farmer said.
"Meleci this is my personal butcher and friend Amiri. Amiri this is Meleci he is Greek Orthodox. Now Amiri I need three pounds of beef with some goat and two boxes of herbs." Wilfred said making the introductions.
Amiri nodded towards me. "It is a pleasure meeting you Meleci." He said in Arabic. I crossed my arms pouting. He laughed. "Alright how come you are interviewing Mr. Wilfred here?"
"Be honest!" Amiri insisted wagging his finger at me.
"Well. There is going to be a young woman in the future named Catalina of Spain who will struggle and I want to gather as much advice as possible. So she does not have to feel so alone. I do not want to trouble you…." I said shyly.
"You think it would be beneficial if I was interviewed to add some spice and flavor aside from these stuffy old monarchs that Wilfred seems to nag." Amiri joked.
"I do not nag!" Wilfred said sounding insulted.
"Well I was joking. You enforce your will. Which is not very smart." Amiri pointed out mildly and I opened a notebook and began writing quickly.
"Five things you can see." Wilfred said loudly ignoring Amiri.
"Why are you doing a grounding technique?" Amiri said curiously.
"He had a meltdown." Wilfred said simply. Amiri sighed in sympathy. "He also is horrible with time management. Teach him how."
"Now that is something I can do! Yes!" Amiri said jumping around dancing.
"I don't like you Wilfred." I mumbled.
"You will thank me later. He won't teach you bad management skills." Wilfred said gently. "Plus he owns a lot of businesses and I trust him with everything that I have food wise. Listen to him. He won't guide you wrong. Now tell me five things you see."
"The second thing I see is the skin of Amiri which is dark as chocolate. And smooth as butter. And supple as milk." I said as Amiri held out his hand and I took it.
"Do you drink milk?" Wilfred asked.
"Yes. We can discuss it later." I said warming up to the idea.
"The third thing you see?" Amiri asked.
"A cow eating grass." I said gesturing with my arm across the street and down the hill.
"The fourth thing you see?" Wilfred said gently.
"A piece of paper with numbers written on it." I said as Amiri grinned.
"My calculations for my daily weights. I bet with my brother in Libya that these Spanish people cannot do math. So far I have earned a lot of dinars. These people are so bad at math I have most of them trading for me in different parts in Africa, Europe, and Asia. I am a tradesman and I am running the beef farm as a favor for my brother-in-law until he gets back from Mesopotamia in buying gold and fabric for me and spices. It could take a few months. I trade in gold money and my clients pay in their currency. I turn it over to my banker in Mesopotamia weekly. I am originally from Libya. My first wife is Shulamite. My second is Libyan. I live in Mesopotamia and I love it there. But I visit my business in Libya every three weeks to make sure my workers are doing an honest days work. I reinvest the money back into my businesses."
"How many businesses do you own?" I said curiously.
"Ah. Wait on patience. It is not my turn yet." Amiri said jovially.
Wait on patience I wrote down in my book. "Ask me when you think you need patience the most. Now I have to attend to my clients here." Amiri said pulling away after hugging me gently. "Wait on patience is what I would tell Catalina. Wait on patience."
"And Meleci?" Amiri said softly as I turned to rejoin Wilfred who was waiting at the sign.
"Yes?"
"Do not rush the process. Trust was not built in a day. And one question at a time. You ask too many questions. Take your time to get to know the people you are interviewing. Let them lead you where they want to. Do you get what I mean? You had a panic attack today Meleci. I would hate to see you suffer needlessly. Just a thought…Anyways let me get back to my work. Come back again soon!" He turned and walked away.
"What is the third thing you see?" Wilfred said softly chewing on some fruits. I had no idea where he got those fruits. But they looked so tasty!
"Your orange hands with tangerines." I pointed out mildly.
"Sorry. I was hungry. I need fruits to keep my metabolism going." Wilfred admitted bashfully.
"I wouldn't know." I pointed out. "I was kept away from books for three years as a punishment for trying to get to Macedonia to see my beloved aunt who raised me after my parents abandoned me when I was younger. My grandfather shipped me to Spain when I was fifteen and told me I had to make peace with my deadbeat loser of a father and stuck up bitch of a mother. Honestly. They are controlling and they never let me do anything without their expressed permission. As soon as my father kicks the bucket I am going back to Macedonia. I hate it here. I do not hate you."
"You lack control." Wilfred said stopping his eating.
"Yes! Because I was never able to make a decision of my own after I came to Spain. My parents banned me from speaking Macedonian and Greek because they said it was pointless and no one would fall in love with a fast ass like me who ate too many rice dumplings in an hour to make myself appealing to any woman. Yet I fell in love with this beautiful woman and she loves me for me. In spite of my weight issues. Do you think I am wrong to hate my parents?"
"Meleci I am a vassal. Not a therapist. But here is the advice I would give you. You make your own way in life in spite of the constraints placed on you by your parents."
"But how?" I cried loudly as he handed me a handkerchief. I blotted my nose and smiled through my tears. "Sorry. I was not expecting the conversation to go this way. I am sorry."
"Apology accepted." Wilfred said simply. "Now if we walk three miles a day I think we can get the weight off in three months."
"Three months! How am I supposed to attract anyone?" I said throwing my hands in the air.
"By living life according to your own laws and values. And following your own conscience. Look I cannot fix the relationship you have with your deplorable parents. But I can help you in my own way with your little project. And give you a brighter future. But you have to listen and heed what I tell you to do. Remember you have one life to live. Do not live it in regret of the shitty behaviors and attitudes of your biological parents who clearly should not have had you back in their lives." Wilfred said in encouragement.
"You mean I can? That you see something of worth in me?" I said shyly.
"Yes. Take me for an example." Wilfred said pointing a finger at himself.
"You?" I said incredulous. "But you are the Count of Barcelona. You have everything you could ever want or need." As I spoke he shook his head back and forth from side to side. I took that meaning no.
"Vassal. I am a vassal. I like to call it The Art of Being s Vassal. Catchy no?" He laughed at his own joke. I smiled in response but offered no other indication I had heard him. "Let us finish shopping and go eat! Then I can tell you my part of being a vassal. Come on." He began walking again and we quickly bought the rest of the items from the different shops we needed to. He took the long route home I saw. "Gives us more time to talk." He said as we entered the forest.
I heard the birds chirping as we walked on the trails. "What is a vassal? What does it have to do with you?"
"There are a few definitions of what a vassal is." Wilfred began.
"Give me all of them. And describe each and how it relates to you personally in detail." I demanded.
"Agreed." Wilfred said.
"There is a person who is a vassal. Then there are vassal states." He began.
"You mean there is a difference?" I said as he rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Hey. No one taught me any of this stuff. She is learning as much as I am! The least you can do is be nice and actually be brutally honest with me here. And not roll your eyes at me."
"School my expressions more." Wilfred said in Catalan.
"Are you nuts?" I said softly. "Express yourself. Do not hide your emotions Count Wilfred."
"You want me to be honest and express myself?" He said rounding on me angrily his eyes flashing angrily. "I am not nuts! I never was nuts. I did not lose any brain chemicals due to stress or environmental circumstances Meleci. But if you want to write this down for your project you need to have a life outside of your mental health issues. You cannot focus so much on your mental illness that it destroys you and your wellbeing. People will feel pity for you for a while. But then they will walk away and focus on their own lives eventually. Nuts means that either she is going to be depressed. Or violent with psychosis. Or so consumed with passion for someone it would be hard for her to let them go and for her to move on."
"But you want to know what? I hope she learns about depression and passion and mental illness because absolutely no one is one hundred percent there. If they are one hundred percent there then they are not being fully transparent. Take the art of being a vassal in my case! A vassal is a man who agreed to fight for a king or lord (= rich and powerful land owner) when needed, in exchange for land to live on. I am the Count of Barcelona yes. But I have absolutely no control unless my liege says so. It's 877. He is not gone yet. I still have many more years to go until I am ready to rule in more than just in name."
"Who is your liege?" I asked.
"Louis the Stammerer." He replied crossly tapping his fingers against the tree.
"You mean he actually stammers?" I said.
"Ask him that! Not me." Wilfred said struggling to not laugh.
"But you don't stammer." I pointed out.
"No. You are right. I do not." He conceded.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you not stammer? How did you get the Countship of Barcelona? How does it work?" I said curiously.
He ignored the first question but answered the other two. He opened the door to the house and stepped in. "My brother will be here in twenty minutes." He said shortly.
"Can you answer my questions?" I asked insistently.
"Only one more question." He broached. "Choose."
"How did you get the Countship of Barcelona?" I asked.
"Let me helo you by not answering that question. I cannot answer that question. Ask my liege that question before he passes away. You ask too many questions. You need to focus. One thing at a time. One discussion point at a time. Spread out the interviews if you need to. Visit daily if needs be to finish up the interviews. Make it worthwhile for both you and them. Travel widely. Whomever next takes up the mantle of interviewing down the line."
"Duly noted." I said scribbling away as he nodded pleased.
"Now your third question was how does a person who is a vassal work? Was that your question?" He said setting down a platter of food in front of me with the water and lime. "Now we can eat."
I dug into the tasty meal as he continued talking. "I have two reasons for being a vassal. Two point five really. Here let me write while you eat." He offered kindly. "The first reason is during this age in medieval Europe a man-usually a man because women are not allowed to fight in war-agree to fight for a king or lord. Or they agree to fight for a rich and powerful land owner when needed in exchange for land to live on."
"But women can fight." I argued.
"You sound like woman lover." He chuckled. "You have sisters?" He said curiously looking up from my notebook.
"Seven sisters. I have four older. Three younger. No brothers. It pissed my father off that my mother only bore me as the heir to take on the family business. He hates my guts."
"Your guts are fine. Your father is not." Wilfred pointed out. "What is your family business? Maybe I can help? I may not have much in the way of means. But I can give you a little something to get you on your feet. If you do not want anything from me. Then that is fine too."
"Thanks. I cannot accept your charity." I turned him down.
"I insist. Tell me more. What do you want to do." Wilfred said standing as we walked to the sink to wash up the dishes.
"Well I wanted to open up my own carpentry and law business. But I do not have enough money to go to law school. So I am stuck conducting interviews to earn money to peddle my way there. I want to become a medical lawyer. I love medicine and the law. But my father won't allow me to do law. He says I am too stupid. So I started a small carpentry business in Macedonia that I have a family friend running for me. It is not much money coming in. But I hope to expand it multinationally soon. I just do not have the funds or people. It is literally hands to mouth right now. I am so lost Wilfred. The medical law firm was inspired by my female friend who is a corporate lawyer in Assyria. We want to get married. But her condition was that I had to finish one of my dreams first. Then we can start a law firm together."
"How many years older is she? Your female friend?" Wilfred asked smiling as my face lit up in joy.
"Eight years older. She is twenty eight and smart as hell. I am twenty and stupid. She is stupid to love me."
"Maybe you need to have a talk with her about your feelings of inadequacy and your true gifts." Wilfred suggested and I nodded.
"I will. After I talk with your liege." I whispered my voice hoarse. He handed me a cup of water and I drank it gratefully. "Thank you for the food and drink. Where do you want to sit?"
"My pleasure. Let's sit on the cushions over here next to the fireplace." He suggested in Arabic.
"Great. My back is hurting." I grumbled leaning against the stone wall as my body relaxed on the cushions. "Okay. Now where were we. Right you were explaining why you were a vassal. But that was before I said you were nuts."
"Yes. I love nuts. But not enough to be one." He said shortly. "How many questions are there?" He said dropping down in front of me and his grin was wide and eyes curious.
"Fifty five questions. Just for you." I said quietly.
He shook his head. "Ask others. Not just me. Interview my friends and my family and my rivals. Get a full picture of me. How else would you understand me or them and their heart? Let me answer one question you asked and then one you prepared. Then I have to go pick up my wood from the shop."
"The art of being a vassal to me means being loyal to the King that I serve. Never betraying him or the confidence and trust that he has put in me. Making sure that everything that I do here in Barcelona makes him and his associates look good up and down the ladder. In exchange they allow me a little freedom to run the county as I see fit with oversight from a lord that they have appointed as my advisor. That is my first point. Loyalty is important in a vassal. A vassal cannot work if the person is not loyal to their overlord and liege."
"The second reason is family loyalty. My brothers and I trust Louis the Stammerer with everything that we have. Betraying him and switching sides would work in no one's favor. It would only bring shame upon my entire house. Which is why I am not you see is what you get. Yes I may fight for Louis. But I know my limits and when not to cross the boundaries and parameters that have been set. Only a fool would think to do so. And to risk it would incur the wrath of some very powerful overlords. So I do not bother. I mind what I do here in Barcelona and am faithful with what is given. If more is given in time then praise be God. If not then all is well. I can go to sleep at night knowing that I have done well by Louis and his Crown. And supported my family as well as I am able. Basically I strive for no more than I am given. That would be greedy. The Bible says greed is a sin. Al, good things come to those who wait. So I am waiting and working on building up my wealth whilst under the vassalship. I do that so that when he dies-hopefully not too soon-I will be able to afford doing more things that I want to do. Right now I cannot afford much. But I am content and happy with my wife and my children in my home here in Barcelona. My loyalty will be rewarded eventually. Just not now. I have to be patient and wait."
"What is your two point five?" I asked.
"The second definition of a vassal is a person in the Middle Ages who promises to be loyal to a lord (= a man of high social rank) who will protect him or her. Louis the Stammerer protects my interests immensely no matter what my personal opinion of him may be. I owe everything I have to him. Owing gratitude to someone is important. So is expressing your gratitude to them. Do not be bottled up with anger and jealousy. Write that down. It hurts you more than them." He said softly as I picked up my quill and began writing again.
"A vassal and his lord is like a legal contract without a loophole. Constitutions are written to guide a country. There are loopholes and ratifications made when the will of people are not met. A legal contract is written in small print for a reason Meleci."
"Why?" I said dumbfounded.
"Keep playing stupid and you might get somewhere! Write that one down too. I like that one that I just said." Wilfred insisted.
"But why?"
"They won't underestimate you." He shot back triumphantly.
I caught on. "You really do have a brain."
"I never said I did not use it! Meleci. Meleci. You would make a fine lawyer. Keep playing stupid and say nothing to your interviewees. Let them talk the question out in detail. But only one question. If you ask more than one they get overwhelmed and back away and stop responding. Gain their trust."
"Why is it written in small print?" I asked.
"Do you even read the scrolls of your marriage betrothal contract?" Wilfred asked curiously. "People sign without reading. Then they claim unfair and unjust behavior whilst playing stupid. The contract is to protect the lawyer. The client is to heed the contract. Why should it be the fault of the lawyer if the client did not read the legal code and terms and conditions? It is also to protect businesses from being sued. People sue because they do not read. They do not read because they want to be bloody spoon fed information. Life does not work like that. That my friend is why Amiri is so rich and his workers are not. They cheat him out because they are too passionate eating knafeh to work much an honest days work in Libya. He has managers reporting to him from Libya. Every time they do not work they lose a dinar. He gains three dinars. They would have known that if they had read the damn legal contract. Yet he offered to buy them knafeh at fifty cents a day if they worked for him for seven years. They signed happily and absconded to Libya and worked for three months in his shops and ships and got their knafeh. Then they decided to go about drinking milk instead of work. Every goat they drink from they get docked seventy five cents. They have been doing that for six years and Amira has made scads of money off them and set up trading routes in Assyria and Mesopotamia with his earnings to benefit the poor and needy whilst saving to send his daughters to medical school and midwifery school. They are playing him stupid and he is fine with that. They are in debt to him and they do not even know it."
"That is dumb." I blurted out.
"A dumb person is someone who does not speak. Their actions speak for them. The success of Amira speaks for him and his character. You see Meleci they are in debt to him. They will never be able to pay a million dinars by next year when their contract ends. I want you to go see Amira and his friend after our interview is over. They have a lot of valuable information about stupidity and warfare that they can teach you."
"But I am stupid." I said dropping my head.
"No you are diligent and brave. Chin up Meleci. You have got this! Now what was your question that you prepared?"
"What are your core values?" I said looking at my sheet of parchment.
"Openness. Truth. Courage." He stated simply and honestly.
"Explain." I said.
"Openness to me means being brutally honest with everyone around me and hiding nothing. I cannot be a good vassal if I cheat and lie my way up the leadership ladder now can I? Do not answer that. I am honest with my wife about my plans for my children and their future if something happens to me. I care for my relative in France who has epilepsy. And I am honest with Louis about his physical health. Just as I am with you. He is weak in physicality but very strong in mind. You can have a weak body but a strong will to live and keep fighting. Openness to me lastly means to not depend on others for financial payout. But to use my vassal status as an advantage to benefit me and my family line if anything happens to Louis. He knows this. I told him already when we wrote the terms of agreement down. If you do not write the terms of agreement down then dime culture's won't take you seriously. Others might. But some won't." He shrugged. "You just have to play along with their game until it is time to shine. Write that down too."
"Is that what you are doing?" I asked.
"Playing along with their game until it is time for me to shine? In a way yes and no." He said candidly.
"How so?"
"I play up to Louis's weaknesses by being a person he can rely on to support him as his Empire disintegrates into nothing. And I give him gifts of wood that I make to keep him happy. "
"And?"
"And I meditate between him and his children who are fighting over the throne in West Francia. I have a meeting with then tomorrow if you want to attend." He offered.
"I would love to!" I said excitedly.
"Truth. The honesty to speak up and speak my mind. I do this in family council meetings. I have a deal for you. Here are my terms." He took my notebook and handed me a few sheets of paper. "Read it thoroughly. I took my time to think about the benefits for you and your future wife and your project."
I read the terms. "It says I would be your personal counsel and that my family line would be your personal counsels no matter what the ruling family says or does. But my future wife and I are young. My sisters are doctors and I have see which one of them would be your personal physician. But the money is excellent. And the other terms say that I can visit my family in Macedonia after I get my degree in chemical engineer and law. But why chemical engineering?"
"What if a family member drinks something unknowingly?" He said shortly.
"I see your point. It says in Iraqi dinars. Every question I ask I get seven dinars."
"Yes it does. The further you are away from your parents the better. Why not start over near your future wife? I promise I won't take your money. But you are miserable here."
"Okay. I agree." I said signing quickly and handing it back. "What do you call this?" I said as we walked to the door.
"The courage to help when needed. Your caravan leaves in three weeks with Amiri heading towards Mesopotamia. Be ready. I want you back here tomorrow by eight a.m."
"How can I ever repay you?" I said tearing up.
"Trust works." He said hugging me. "Now go." He pulled away and i saddled my horse galloping away into the evening sunset.