by N. C. Reed
Facing Prince Parno, he had decided to make that known.
“Jason,” Roda Finn interjected, “that’s not the case at all. As I explained to you in my message, the Prince is interested in helping us to. . . .”
“And you had no business revealing Guild business to the Prince without at least consulting one of us!”
“That will be quite enough,” Parno McLeod’s calm voice cut off Roda’s rebuttal. “I’ll remind you, sir, once, that I will tolerate only a certain amount of disdain and attitude in my own quarters, and you are near that limit.”
As if suddenly remembering he was addressing a member of the ruling family, Pearl fell into silence. A sullen silence to be sure, but silence none-the-less.
“Now,” Parno stood, walking around to lean upon his desk. “I did not request you, per se, Professor. I asked for someone skilled in engineering. Someone who could help me and to whom I could offer assistance to in return. Master Roda deemed you to be that someone, above any and all others he may know of with your background and experience. That should speak somewhat to the regard in which he holds you.” Pearl’s face reddened a bit more at that, this time in a bit of embarrassment.
“As to the ‘lackey’ business, I have no need of them. I do my own work, Professor. I didn’t ask you here to ‘do my bidding’ as you so blithely put it. I asked you here because I’m interested in what you know and in what you can do. Further, I’m interested in assisting you, and others of your kind, in studying the past and reclaiming as much as possible from the workings of our ancestors.”
“Roda has informed me that your. . . ‘guild’, as you call it, has sought Royal funding in the past for your research and been turned away. I cannot answer as to why that was so, and won’t try. Nor can I, as a tertiary heir to the throne, grant you an all- encompassing grant to simply study what you wish. I don’t have those resources or that authority at my disposal. I’m skating on thin ice as it is and funding most of this from my own pockets, which are not nearly so deep as my father’s.”
“What I want,” Parno continued, “is someone who can train my Pioneers to do real engineering work. Build bridges, lay roads and trails, make maps, and so forth. I don’t expect a man of your standing to go galloping around the country at my ‘whim’. I have soldiers to do that, should the need arise. Understand?”
“Yes, milord,” Pearl muttered, beginning to realize the depths of his mistake.
“Good,” Parno nodded. “Now, what I can do, in return, is provide you with what authority I have to continue your research and provide the funds and means for you to do so. I can grant you access to any Royal or Provincial Library in the Kingdom, including the Royal Archives in Nasil. I’ve no idea, to be honest, what you’re looking for, but I do know that the Royal Library, which the Archives are a part of, contains the most complete listing of pre-Dying books anywhere. Not all of them are located in Nasil, but they will be somewhere you can access in most cases.”
“Those in private hands might prove harder to get to, and there’s likely no way to secure them, but a letter of introduction from me, as my personal engineer and archivist, could possibly gain you access to some of them as well. Correct?”
“That is. . .very likely, milord. Yes,” Pearl nodded, his enthusiasm growing, while his anger diminished. “That would be most helpful.”
“Then consider this,” Parno smiled for the first time since being introduced to the man. “The Royal Family maintains quarters in every Provincial Capital. I rarely make use of them myself, but I have the authority to grant you privileges in those quarters as my guest. I can provide you with an escort to ensure your safety, and with funds to purchase needed materials. You may then pursue your quest for knowledge wherever it leads you. All I ask in return are two things.”
“First, I need my Pioneers trained as highly as possible, by you. I need them to be able to do the things I mentioned earlier. Not necessarily up to the skill of a true engineer, at least not at first, but well enough that if I need a bridge erected ahead of my column, they can get it done. Safely,” he added. Pearl nodded.
“Secondly, I want whatever you discover that can ease the life of our people put to good use. I’m not interested in just the military aspect of your Guild’s activities. I want the lives of our people to be better, longer, and more productive. Medicine and medical practices will certainly play a great role in that, but so do other things. Better bridges, better roads, stronger and better buildings are just a few of those areas which interest me, Professor.”
Parno went still for a moment, studying the other man. Finn squirmed slightly, but remained silent, allowing Pearl to contemplate what he had been told. To his credit, the engineer smiled.
“Firstly, I must offer an apology, milord,” he spoke firmly. “I’m afraid your reputation preceded you, and I jumped to a conclusion. A wrong one.”
“You aren’t the first, I assure you,” Parno laughed in genuine humor. “And, I’m honest enough to admit that most of that reputation is richly deserved. That does not, however, mean that I can’t have a serious side, so to speak. I love my land, Professor, and my people. I will never be King and don’t want to be. I’m not interested in a ‘legacy’. All I’m trying to accomplish is to leave this world, or at least our part of it, better off than I found it. I believe that people like you, with my help, can accomplish that far better than someone like me.”
“I see your point, milord,” Pearl nodded. “I see it, and agree. At first I thought. . .well, never mind what I thought. I was wrong. That’s all that matters. So yes, milord, I will train your engineers, or Pioneers, or whatever you wish to call them, and will be honored to do so.”
“Excellent!” Parno beamed. “I’ll set to work at once gathering the best men I can find. What sort of men would make the best candidates? My original plan was to merely have a company of my own trained, but as I think of it, I’d also like to train a core of officers, educated men, who can go back on to other units and share what they learn with still more men.”
“A good plan,” Pearl nodded. “Well, the ideal candidate. . .hmm. . . .” Pearl fell silent for a moment, clearly thinking about the question.
“I’d say that the men you plan to train for your ‘core’ group should have strong math skills, certainly. That’s one of the most important things, of course,” Pearl began after a moment. “Certainly a degree of experience in the engineering needs of a military unit on the move would be likewise helpful. Some skill in geology, the study of the earth itself,” Pearl explained, “would also be a great help. One needs to know the best foundations for buildings and bridges. I assume the military has its own map makers?”
“Yes,” Parno nodded. “Men who are skilled surveyors.”
“Another handy skill,” Pearl nodded. “A few of them should be included to form your training group. . .may I make a suggestion?”
“Of course,” Parno replied eagerly. “You’re the authority here, Professor.”
“Firstly, a question. The men you have doing these jobs now, in the military I mean, how are they trained?”
“Well,” Parno mused, “mostly within the Army itself. The War Academy trains officers in certain areas of expertise, of course. Men who have the qualities you just mentioned, especially the math. But by-and-large, training is accomplished by those who are already doing the work in the field. As new men come into the units, they simply learn to do what the men before them have done. There’s nothing inherently wrong with the system,” Parno added. “It’s just not as complete as it should be, in my opinion. For large tasks, the Royal Engineers are used, of course. But there aren’t many of them and they can only do so much at a time and not to mention that we can hardly expect to use them in a pinch.”
The Royal Engineers were highly skilled men, many of them tradesmen, who both maintained the existing infrastructure of the Kingdom and performed new construction needs. Their schedule was laid out years in advance, with major projects sometimes being planned a full decade
ahead of time. They did excellent work, but their projects were more along civilian lines than military.
“True,” Pearl nodded. “Then my suggestion would be to create a school where your military engineers, or Pioneers as you call them, can be trained by the best minds in your military. Men already uniquely suited to the needs of a military unit, especially one in the field, on the move, so to speak. I will take those men and raise their standard of training even higher so that they can pass along that knowledge to others in both a classroom setting and in field work. You can use projects here in this area as work and test beds, allowing them to get hands on experience, while serving the greater good as well.”
“Outstanding,” Parno beamed. “I hadn’t thought that far along. Now, professor, do you see why I wanted someone like you? In just a few minutes you’ve taken a simple idea that I had, and turned it into something not only far better, but longer ended. Such a facility could well train new generations of Pioneers for decades to come.”
“Well, it wasn’t that far a leap, really,” Pearl murmured in a self-depreciating tone.
“But I wouldn’t have thought of it,” Parno pointed out. “Thank you, Professor. May I assume by your suggestion that you will undertake this project?” Pearl looked at Parno for a moment, then stood, drawing himself up to his full five feet and six inches.
“Yes, milord,” he said formally. “I will.”
*****
“It’s not like I’m a bloody gypsy, Roda!”
Roda Finn snorted at that. Hiram Wiggins was one of his oldest friends, the two of them having studied together years before as idealistic young men. Wiggins had studied chemistry at first, then turned his attention to geology. Geology had led him to the study of what the ancients had termed ‘meteorology’, or the study of weather and weather patterns.
“I never said you were, Hiram,” the fussy chemist sighed. “And I didn’t tell the Prince you were, either. He asked if anyone I knew was a weather expert, and if so, would I invite them to meet with him. Nothing more.”
“What would the Prince want with me?” Wiggins asked, perplexed. Finn sighed again. For all his brilliance in books, Hiram had a true knack for overlooking the obvious.
“You predict weather patterns, Hiram,” he explained patiently. “Don’t you think that if the Prince were taking the field with his regiment, it might be well for him to have some idea what the weather would be like for him? Whether he could expect rain, or snow, or clear weather? Whether there was a chance it might turn cold or unexpectedly warm so that his men might be better prepared, and not carry things they don’t need, or not carry things they do?”
“Oh,” Wiggins said softly, scratching his head. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“I know,” Roda nodded. “Nor had I, really. Prince Parno is rather intelligent, despite what you may have heard to the contrary.”
“I really hadn’t heard anything,” Wiggins shrugged. “I know who he is, of course. Everyone does, I imagine.”
“He’s a good man,” Finn told him, “and as smart a young man as I have ever met. A long thinker, too.” Wiggins stared at Finn. So long as he had known Roda Finn, the man’s compliments were spare, as if he only had so many for a lifetime and he was parceling them out with great care. If Finn thought the Prince was a ‘long thinker’, or someone who thought in terms of years rather than months or weeks, then there was more to him than his title, that was certain.
“Well, I’m here, anyway,” Wiggins finally shrugged again. “What is it you wish of me?”
“It’s actually more a question of what you wish of him,” Finn smiled. “What do you need to determine your weather patterns?”
“Well,” Wiggins mused, “the most important thing is information, of course. Data from the field in a timely manner. Only there’s no real way to get it, at least not quick enough to matter. If, for instance, I knew what the temperature and barometer was in Loville, right now, then I could predict what the weather might be here within a day or so, but you see the problem with that, I suspect? I can’t get the information soon enough to matter. By the time a rider could get here, the information would be hopelessly out of date.”
“Hm,” Finn nodded. “Yes, I can see that. Very well. For short term weather we need a constant source of data. What about long term?”
“Well, we have the historical record, of course,” Wiggins was warming to his subject now. “Basing what has happened before on what conditions are like today. For instance, I can tell you that there’s no rain in the offing at this location for at least three days. Probably longer, but at least three days.”
“How can you know that?” Parno McLeod asked, walking into the room as Wiggins made his prediction. Wiggins turned sharply, while Finn merely rose to his feet.
“Milord, this is Hiram Wiggins. He is an expert in weather prognostication. Hiram, allow me to introduce Prince Parno McLeod, of the House McLeod.”
“Milord,” Hiram bowed. “Pleasure,” he murmured, unsure of himself.
“Pleasure is mine, Mister Wiggins,” Parno smiled, offering his hand. The small weatherman looked nonplussed for a second, then awkwardly grasped the young Royal’s hand.
“Now,” Parno took a seat, “please tell me how you can know we won’t have rain for at least three days. I’m not challenging you,” Parno raised a hand in assurance. “I’m just curious.”
“Well,” Wiggins scratched his head absently. “Well, milord, there are several things. Firstly, there’s the barometer. The amount of pressure in the air. It’s rather high here at the moment, which you can thank for the slight wind, and the clear sky. High pressure dominating the area will keep weather patterns at a standstill for a few days.”
“Secondly, is the hydrometer, or the measure of humidity, water vapor, present in the atmosphere. It’s low at the moment, below twenty percent. Very dry. Thirdly, the wind, for the moment, is from the north to northwest. Very little moisture will come from that direction. Most of our rainfall is dictated by the flow of moist air from the Gulf of Storms, milord. Without that moisture in the air, there’s no rain.”
“Fascinating,” Parno shook his head. “Roda, it seems you were quite correct about Mister Wiggins.”
“Of course I was,” Finn almost huffed, then added, “milord.” Parno laughed.
“So, what can I do to help you advance your study of weather patterns, Mister Wiggins?”
“As I was explaining to Roda, milord, the most important thing is data from the field. If I know what the conditions are in Loville, the example I used earlier, then I can predict, with fair accuracy, what we might expect in the next thirty-six to forty-eight hours. The problem. . . .”
“The problem being that there’s no way to know what it’s like in Loville in time to matter,” Parno nodded, finishing for him.
“That’s the rub, milord,” Wiggins agreed, surprised. Parno McLeod was, indeed, smarter than the average person. “It’s just not possible to gather that information.”
“True,” Parno mused. “I’ll work on it.” Parno stood.
“What can you do, milord?” Wiggins asked, puzzled.
“No idea,” Parno admitted, heading for the door, “but we’ll come up with something. Welcome to Cove Canton, Mister Wiggins.”
“Well,” Roda sighed, standing, “you’ve met the benefactor, Hiram. Are you interested?”
“I guess,” Wiggins shrugged, scratching his head. “Be interesting to see what he does.”
“Well, let’s see to getting you settled, then,” Roda motioned to the door. “You’ll like the accommodations, I should think. Very nice, with room for your wife and child.”
“Huh,” was Wiggins’ only comment. Roda rolled his eyes.
“Come along, Hiram.”
*****
Parno made his way toward the guest quarters, cursing the blind luck that had all three of his visitors arriving on the same day. Not that he wasn’t grateful they had responded to Roda’s request, for he was.
He just wished they had arrived a day apart, so that he hadn’t needed to use an entire afternoon welcoming them, not to mention seeing what their needs were and how he could meet them.
As he approached the small collection of houses he’d had erected for the newest additions to Cove Canton, a young woman emerged onto the porch of one of the houses. The Doctor’s house, he remembered, and hadn’t Roda mentioned that. . . .
“You there!” the woman called to him. Surprised, Parno looked around him.
“Yes, you,” the woman informed him. “Come here, please.” Parno stood for just a second, then, with a half-smile playing on his lips, walked directly to the house.
“Can you tell me where I can find Prince McLeod?” the woman demanded. “He was supposed to meet me, but I’ve yet to see him.”
“You have now,” Parno told her, smiling. The woman looked nonplussed for a moment, then blushed.
“You’re Parno McLeod, then? Prince McLeod?” she asked, her speech more subdued now.
