by Garon Whited
I’m not talking about the silver mine just yet. I don’t want to give some enterprising fellow the idea this place is a monetary target.
We’re also getting more regular traffic, mostly salesmen. They roll in with a wagon, offer their wares, and roll out again. It started a minor financial crisis, in fact. The question was then raised about pay. Until now, we’ve been relatively cashless, working to build a village. Now there are people who want money for their wares, so the citizens need money to pay for them. Which, of course, raises the question in my mind about where they’re going to keep their money. In a box under the bed? Bury it? Keep it on them at all times? I sense thievery in the future, but I didn’t complain. I went into Sarashda, changed a gold brick into their ingot-coins, and paid everyone their wages.
I’m sure we’ll soon see what sort of police force we need.
As far as other forces go, we have our first official wizard. Well, had one. He came out to gauge the prospects, stayed overnight, and departed in the morning. I don’t think he appreciated the rustic charms of living on the frontier. He didn’t appreciate the repeated and unanimous refusals from the female citizenry, either. I’m not too disappointed to see him gone.
Tauta, 33rd Day of Kannaskir
The sawmill is running, albeit slowly. It took longer than I thought to work out the right gear ratio for the waterwheel. I suspect I’m going to be working out a clutch system, as well, so I can include a donkey wheel to supplement the waterwheel. The creek or stream or whatever it is may be a lot of water, but it doesn’t have as much of a head on it as we need. Would it be easier, I wonder, to build a millway, funneling more of the water through a narrow channel to turn the waterwheel? I’ll try it and see. But we’re starting to produce actual lumber instead of logs and beams.
With the coming of the planks also comes houses. My tower is coming along nicely, but it’s about time we switched everyone else from barracks to bungalows. I’ve laid out streets on either side of the stream. Leisel marked off the areas for houses. I contributed stones for foundation supports. We’re going to have wooden, not dirt floors, since I don’t have enough stone to spare for all the houses to have stone flooring. It’s on my list, though. It takes time to subdivide a mountain.
The granary was more difficult in some ways. It has to house grain, but it also has to be as rodent-proof as possible. Additionally, having a basement to double as a root cellar or cold storage is also important. This presents challenges for mundane construction, but, like the tower, stones have this mysterious tendency to join together when stacked. Leisel keeps giving me significant looks when I display any sort of magical skill, so I’m doing my spells at night, mostly. Things happen overnight and everyone wonders at them, but Leisel pretends she doesn’t know what’s going on—“Just be thankful for whatever patron spirit is aiding us,” is her usual answer.
I’m even more pleased the iron mine is going so well. It’s not yet a paying proposition, but I have immigrant labor building a smelter, as well as knocking together their own places to live. They’re mostly using lumber from the village and stone from the mine. We now have one village and a mining camp.
The coal, silver, and copper mines are, incidentally, being turned into actual mines by my quarrying spells. The process isn’t quick, but it’s relentless. Every night, Bronze and I haul down the latest loads of stone from one of them while the other two keep working. I have the basics of a tower coming along nicely. In another week or two, maybe we can start on adjunct buildings and a defensive wall.
I don’t like how we don’t have anywhere to go if we’re attacked. Hence the fortification.
We also encountered our first “barbarian.” He certainly looked the part. His clothes—what there were of them; it’s a warm climate—were animal hide and leather. He carried a short stabbing sword of iron, along with a short, laminated horn bow. His arrows were feathered with some sort of leaves I’ve never seen before and tipped with iron. The man himself wasn’t too tall, but he was broad and thick and had a black beard at least a foot long. He needed a bath. Possibly a bath to get ready for a bath—elsewhere. I didn’t want him in my river. It’s possible the smell was deliberate, hiding his own scent from whatever he hunted. If so, I applauded his dedication to his craft, if not his taste in perfume.
I presume he came over the western hill, through the forest, and stopped when he reached the cleared land. After that, he watched us. He made no attempt to hide. I guess he figured he could be gone before we could cross all that open space.
I waved and went back to stacking stone. He didn’t react. I passed the word to leave him alone as long as he left us alone.
About dinnertime, we all sat down to eat. He was the topic of discussion, of course. The general feeling was he was a hunter who came up into the mountains for game and stayed to watch the women. There was also some concern he might have a tribe nearby—a hungry one, willing to meet and eat strangers. “Everybody knows” barbarians are cannibals.
“Leisel?”
“Sir?”
“Would it be better to have hungry barbarians as neighbors when they think of us as food, or hungry barbarians as neighbors who think of us as a place to buy food?”
“The second one. I’m not sure they know how to buy anything,” she cautioned. “Every story I ever heard, they raided for what they could get.”
“Maybe I should go ask.”
“Maybe you should send someone.”
“But I like meeting new people,” I countered. Leisel snorted. She’s getting to know me. “I should at least bring him a peace offering.”
“If you want to do this, I’ll send Velina. She can handle him.”
“Which one is Velina?”
Leisel nodded at the tall, broad-shouldered lady halfway down the table. I remembered her. She picked up a hip-throw maneuver astonishingly quickly. She also helped me up afterward. She was clearly and definitely a woman, but it only led men to underestimate her. Usually by quite a lot. If Valkyrie come in brunette instead of blonde, she’s got a job in the afterlife.
“We’ll bring him a bowl of the stew and a chunk of bread,” I decided. “See what he has to say for himself.”
“I don’t think any of us speaks their language.”
“See? Another reason I should go.”
“You do?”
“You don’t?”
“I hate you. A little.”
“As long as you love me more,” I replied, and stood up. People sat up straight as I did so and I gestured them back to their meal. I gathered up a bowl and bread before taking a walk. Velina followed me, carrying shield and spear.
“Leisel?” I asked. Velina nodded. Never much for conversation, Velina.
Our guest saw us coming and got to his feet. I dipped the bread in the bowl and took a bite, munching as I walked. He licked his lips and considered. I waved the bread at him and held up the bowl. He stayed put until we came within twenty feet.
“That’s far enough!” he barked. My translation spell also translated the other words in his statement, but they were intensifiers of the vulgar sort.
“As you wish,” I replied, without intensifiers. His eyes widened. My translation spell works both ways. I put down the bowl and bread. “We only came out here to offer you something to eat and ask what you want.”
“You speak my language!”
“Of course. It’s polite to use a guest’s language. I am Al of Lucard, master of La Mancha Valley. May I ask who you are?”
“Tog.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, Tog.” Velina and I moved aside from the food and I gestured him to it. He looked from us to the food and back. He’d already seen me eat some, so he edged close to it, picked it up, sniffed it, tasted it, wolfed it down.
“I didn’t realize you were so hungry,” I continued. “Would you like to join us at the table?”
“No.”
“Very well. May I ask why you are here?”
“Hunting. Game’s
wary. Think there’s a bear moved into the area.”
“Ah. So, you’re ranging out farther than usual and you came across us?”
“Yeah.” He chewed thoughtfully while considering Velina. “What do you want for her?”
“You’re having a hard enough time feeding yourself,” I countered, grateful Velina couldn’t understand him. Suspect, yes. Understand, no.
“True.”
“Well, if you ever want to work, we’ll feed you.”
“Work? Doing what?”
“We’re building things. That means digging holes, cutting trees, chopping wood, stacking stones—all the usual. Someday soon, we’ll be harvesting crops, slopping hogs, feeding chickens, and slaughtering animals. We’ll feed you for your labor.”
“No.”
“Suit yourself. Is there any other business you have here?”
He looked me up and down. I’m taller, but much thinner. He obviously didn’t think much of me, fancy suit or not.
“No.”
“Then I bid you good day.” Velina and I walked away. We made it about ten paces before he shot me in the back. Velina glanced at me and I held her eyes as I kept walking, pretending I hadn’t even noticed. There was no second shot. We continued across the field and I kept my hands hidden under my cloak while recovering the arrow. It penetrated my cloak easily enough in the daytime, so I pulled it on through. I had the impression my cloak did not like Tog.
“Sir?”
“Yes, Velina?”
“Can I kill him?”
“I’m sure you can, but I want him to live, for now.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s likely to go home. He shot me and I didn’t even notice. He won’t want to stay here with sorcery or black magic or whatever. He’ll go home. And I plan to find out where his home is, how many friends he has, how hungry they are, and what they plan to do about it when Tog tells them where he’s been.”
“If he’s dead, he can’t tell them anything.”
“If they know where he was going, they may come looking—before we know who they are and how many.”
Velina grunted what I took to be agreement.
I have two floors of a tower and part of a third. I still don’t have a decent door, but it’s on my list. Right now, it’s a curtain. It’s enough for now.
After my sunset shower, I checked on my pet light. It still seems perfectly happy, glowing merrily inside the dynamo diagram. It’s been developing more colors. Thin traceries of yellow, dark blue, and orange are spreading out from the center through the paler blue of the sphere. It’s growing more complex, which makes me wonder. Is it going to metamorphose into something else, like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly? Or will it hatch into something? It could, I suppose, be a larval form of a more complicated energy-state being, but most of the energy-state beings I know are gods. They take their form from the desires and expectations of their worshippers. This thing is absorbing undifferentiated energy of no particular attunement. It’s got no guides on its formation and growth. If it does… “hatch?”… what will it be?
Maybe I should go to a temple and ask. During the day. Surely, priests must be good for something.
Meanwhile, I unpacked my mirror and propped it against one wall. Leisel stuck her head in.
“Velina says you’re planning to track Tog?”
“Yep.”
“Do you want help? I can have a squad go with you to cover you and carry lanterns.”
“I didn’t think we had many lanterns.”
“We have six, all glowing with magic since you ‘bought’ them from a wizard.”
I chuckled. I bought them and brought them back, then handed them out after I enchanted them. Leisel helped hide the fact I’m a wizard. She suggested it, in fact. It disturbs everyone with their view of how the world is put together. If we keep being practical about getting things done, though, the traditional caste lines may become blurred.
“Come in. Close the curtain. You’ll want to see this.”
“Will I?”
“Maybe not, but it may help you plan things.”
“If you say so.” She made sure the curtain was pulled hard across before she came over. I laid down Tog’s arrow and used it as a component in my scrying spell. One version of scrying brings an actual image to the mirror, rather than displaying a psychic illusion. Tog was still in the woods, but he had a fire going and was clearly bedding down for the night.
“Where is he?” Leisel asked. I drew the viewpoint directly up, through the forest canopy, and continued to rise. Eventually, our valley came into view. The rest of the scene was dark. “He’s not too far away. We could catch him.”
“No, I still want to see where he goes. He’s made camp. He knows he won’t make it home tonight. His people may be the closest family or tribe or clan. If they want to be neighborly, we can probably use the help.”
“They won’t.”
“If. If not, looting the remains will also profit us.”
“Uh? You want to have a war?”
“It’s possible. I suspect it will be more of a slaughter or a skirmish, but it’s possible.”
“I’m not saying we can’t take them, but it depends on how many we’re talking about. They don’t wear armor, but they do make iron for arrowheads and long knives. They’ll also go into battle with no shield and two of those stabbing swords.”
“Which means they have either trading partners or both an iron mine and a forge. If the latter, we’ll gain hammers, bellows, anvils, and the like.”
“Always looking on the sunny side of things, hmm?”
“Only half the time,” I told her, and did not elaborate. I closed down the spell and the image in the mirror faded.
“Hey, hold on,” she protested. “Can you look down the road with that thing?”
“Sure.”
“Anywhere else?”
“Anywhere not defended by a wizard, yes.”
“Why do we have sentries, then?”
“Because I can’t sit here and watch all the time.”
“Oh. I take it you’re going to go haul rock down the mountains again?”
“I’m not done with the tower, am I?”
“No.” She sat on a corner of the worktable. “You know, word gets around. People know you don’t sleep.”
“Blame my insomnia.”
“They’re starting to think you’re not human.”
“In a good way or a bad way?”
“A good way, mostly. I’ve hinted you might be more than human, being an enlightened soul.”
“I guess it beats being a less-than-human monster.”
“I thought so,” she agreed. “It would also help if you showed any interest whatsoever in a woman.”
“It would? Why?”
“You’re a mystery, maybe a monster. If you acted like you cared about someone, it would reassure everyone else about you having feelings.”
“I have feelings!”
“Since when?”
“Since forever. They get in the way a lot.”
Leisel pushed off from the table and stood quite close to me.
“All I know is you’re generous, strong, helpful, and deadly. To a warrior like me, it’s a powerful combination. I’m only saying it would be nice if you could be seen to care, too.”
“Everyone here is my employee,” I reasoned. “It’s inappropriate, isn’t it?”
“It depends on if she’s willing. There’s a big difference between being told to do something and offering to.”
“Oh. I see. I think I see.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“So? What is it? Do you prefer men?”
“No, but thank you for asking. I’m surprisingly boring. It’s just—look, if I had a little warning, I would probably be all sorts of willing. As it is, I have plans for tonight and no door. How about I get a door, rather than a curtain? Once I get to that point, you can… make another suggestion. If you sti
ll want to.”
Leisel took a step back and eyed the curtain thoughtfully.
“Maybe you’re right. I’ll get someone busy on a door.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
“On a related point?”
“Yes?”
“Would it be inconceivable for me to sleep here, in the tower?”
“Help yourself.”
“I’ll do that,” Leisel agreed. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever worked for a man like you.”
“In what way?”
“You’re… I don’t know. Not stuck-up, exactly. Not standoffish. It’s like you really don’t mind going a week or a month without someone in your bed.”
“I don’t mind,” I agreed, “mostly because I don’t have one.”
“Wait. What? You don’t have a…?”
“Nope.”
“How did you lose it?” she asked, sounding sympathetic.
“I simply haven’t bothered to build one.”
“Build one? Are we talking about—build a what?”
“A bed.”
“Oh! You don’t have a bed!”
“What were you thinking?” I asked, grinning, and escaped into the night.
Tauta, 3rd Day of Milaskir
I have a door. Crap. I thought for sure the weekly party would have slowed her down at least a little, but no. There’s a big piece of lumber mounted in the doorway of my tower, complete with bar and bolt. She’s also moved a bed up to the second floor “for me.”
She seems serious.
For the life and death of me, I simply do not understand why some women find me attractive. Is it the wiry build? Some women go for that. Is it the pure-black hair? It can be attractive, I guess. Is it the apparent wealth? Maybe, but I didn’t think Leisel cared too much about it. Could it be power? She knows I have abilities usually divided among more than one caste of people in the Empire. She listed a few qualities. Maybe I should ask her for a complete list.
On the plus side, I’m almost done with the basic tower. The roof will be the tough part, since I don’t have a real mason, but I’m going to cheat. I’m building a wooden arch so I can put blocks on it, making a half-circle arch for a roof. Once I pile rocks on it, they will mysteriously fit together, as though pre-cut to fit an arch. Once they’re stable, I’ll turn the wooden arch and add another stone arch at ninety degrees to the first. The arches will expand sideways even as I add more of them. I’ll even stack some stones at the top so the material can flow downward, filling in the gaps. Eventually, I’ll roof over the entire top floor with a solid hemisphere as it all flows together.
