The Elder Lands

After the disappearance of their Archmage, followed shortly by their Champion, the Empire faltered. The turns of fate were presenting them with challenges aplenty. Eventually, a formidable enemy, an unwise Emperor, and a rebellion sealed the fate of the formerly dominant power once and for all. It wasn’t long before the Fallen General earned his first victory using the same tactics that had felled him. His victory would go on to light the first spark in the conflagration that would splinter the Empire.

• A History of The Fall, Moralia Kid

Lucan closed the history book and laid it on the table after a persistent round of knocking came from his door. “Enter.”

Ryder stepped inside. “It’s him again. He’s waiting at the lake.”

Lucan sighed and got to his feet. As he walked out of his small study, he heard Ryder muttering something unintelligible under his breath. “Something the matter?”

“Yes, Master,” Ryder said. “This is the third time he’s called for your presence. Wouldn’t it be more proper for you to summon him?”

“Yes,” Lucan said. “That would be proper. Only, he can’t bring the lake along with him, can he?”

Ryder huffed and shrugged in one smooth movement, falling into step behind him.

They found their way to the stables and rode out to the lake. The engineer had certainly taken more than ‘a few days’ in his venture to find a solution to their dilemma, but he had assured him two days ago that he was close.

It had been a while since the silver mine incident, and the two knights had already summoned experienced men from outside of their lands to oversee the construction of the mine, and laborers were already crowding the site. Lucan was reconsidering his decision to wait on the matter of the jeweler. The Wildermen had been awfully quiet, and he didn’t know when they might strike again. And his father was, of course, adamant in his refusal to send any of their men to Arpague. Lucan found himself considering Thomas for the task. The steward was old, but he was wise and shrewd enough to fulfill their purpose. The only worry Lucan had was whether the old man would be capable of suffering the journey and whether he and his father would accept the proposition.

They soon reached the lake to find Sawyer along with the laborers carrying his wooden equipment. Lucan assumed that most of them were tools of measurement, but he couldn’t say for certain.

The engineer greeted them with a holler and a wave.

Lucan responded with a more level greeting before dismounting. As Sawyer approached him, Lucan said, “Got something good for me to hear?”

“Yes!” Sawyer said, leading him to the edge of the crater where they looked down on the lake. “I’ve found the way.” He pointed at the edge of the water. “The lake is too deep and its walls too steep. Any attempts to dry it in the summer for rim harvesting would go amiss since the water goes down instead of receding. I’ve been thinking about something that would take a considerable amount of work, but I believe it would fulfill our purposes.” He pointed to a small stony plateau a third of the way up from the water. It had been uncovered during previous attempts to clear land around the lake. The rest of the crater’s walls were still covered in soil and loose stone. “There, that will be our height.”

“Our height for what?”

“We will gather enough earth to fill up a large part of the lake to that height,” Sawyer said. Upon seeing Lucan’s incredulous look, he pressed on, “That high, there’s more breadth for us to spread a small, flat pan where we can dry the lake’s water.”

Lucan’s countenance was still unmoved as was his mind. He wasn’t truly convinced of this…idea. Lucan hadn’t had cause to doubt the engineer’s expertise, but now that he came to think about it, Sawyer was young in a profession where the masters were often old; and this plan of his made Lucan wary.

When he received no response to his proposal, Sawyer went on to explain: “One would imagine that the foundation will be unstable, and it will be…just slightly. Yet, the shape of the structure does not lean towards precariousness. And we will use a reliable technique that comes from the West, however uncultured its people may be; by mixing dirt, mortar, and salt, their peasants have built sturdy walls for their homes for generations. We can use the same technique to strengthen this structure.”

Lucan stayed silent, closing his eyes for a moment. He was uncertain, but he would lose nothing by trying—No, he would lose something, more time. They’d already wasted a lot of it on this damned lake, and they’d been stymied at every turn. Regardless, he’d already brought an engineer all the way from the capital for this purpose, and he’d prepared himself to give up some of the available labor for the undertaking. It wouldn’t do to shrink back now. But he had some qualms. “The pan will be too high for the water, won’t it?”

Sawyer shook his head. “While the pan will be higher than the water’s level, it won’t be by too much. Filling part of the lake will increase the water level significantly. It will still be below the pan’s level, but simple bucket mills driven by cattle will easily raise the needed water.”

Lucan hummed thoughtfully. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the foresight nor the knowledge on such matters to judge the man’s proposal. Still, he’d made up his mind. He wasn’t against wagering for good reason. “How long will it take?”

“If you lend me half the men working on that abhorrent undertaking,” Sawyer said, gesturing in the direction of the canal and the irrigation channels being dug, “I will finish it before the end of summer, and I have faith that we will have our first produce of salt on hand shortly after your…” He paused, uncertain. “…grassy harvest?”

“Hay. Hay harvest,” Ryder’s bored voice came from behind Lucan.

“Yes, after your hay harvest.”

Lucan sighed. “Very well, you may have your laborers. But first, you have to explain yourself. You seem to detest our waterworks with exaggerated passion.”

Sawyer, as though he’d been waiting for an excuse, opened up in a deluge. “Aside from its hideous nature? It is also exceedingly wasteful. At least a few days of labor are wasted every fortnight. I fail to understand why whoever oversees this undertaking insists on digging as though they’re draining a swamp. It’s a tragedy to waste so many resources. I have half a mind to grab him by the throat and wring his neck, henceforth saving all his victims today and in the days to come.”

“Well…” Lucan said softly, a bit surprised by the engineer’s tirade. “The man we hired to oversee it is from Mirefield. He’s been foreman and overseer on similar undertakings there for decades.”

Sawyer deflated, winding down from further prepared condemnation. “Ah, that explains it,” he said with a chuckle and a thoughtful nod. “He knows no better then. Most of the year, it’s nothing but marshlands over there.”

Lucan nodded along. “Since you seem to know better, I assume you can handle this matter if given the authority?”

“Of course.”

“Very well,” Lucan said. “I will have word passed along that you will be overseeing the waterworks too. How much time can you save us?”

Sawyer shook his head apologetically. “Some of it will be evened out by the labor I will borrow for the saltworks. I can’t be certain until I’m in the thick of it, but I imagine the undertaking will be finished and the fields ready for planting next spring.”

“Good.”

Their talk ended soon after, with Sawyer told to hasten with his plans and word sent for half the labor to be diverted to the lake. Later, Lucan would have Thomas summon the waterworks overseer to either be relieved of his duties or relegated to be an aide for Sawyer. He preferred the latter choice, since he was still concerned about the engineer’s experience. The older overseer could perhaps ring the alarm if the young engineer was leading them to a dead end.

They rode back to the keep under the sun of early noon, and Lucan headed to his study upon arrival, sending Ryder to discreetly summon Thomas.

When the steward arrived, Lucan apprised him of their new arrangements before he drove into the main matter he wanted to discuss.

They were standing together near his desk, looking out of the small window. “Circumstances at the border aren’t clear,” Lucan said. “And it won’t be long before the silver mine begins coughing up its bounty. Sir Wolfe and Sir Upton seem to be contending with each other for who can be more hasty.”

“Indeed,” Thomas said, glancing at him curiously. “It won’t be long.”

“I can’t send any of our men to Arpague.” Lucan gave him a meaningful glance. “And we need that jeweler soon.”

Thomas gave him a knowing smile. “You want me to go instead?”

“I’m sorry,” Lucan said. “I know it would be a tiresome journey for you, but–”

“It won’t be,” Thomas interrupted him. “Your reasoning is sound, and I find myself in agreement with you on the matter of the jeweler. We must make the best of our neighbors’ discovery. Since we’ve already begun on the path of attracting trade, then let us commit fully.”

“You will go?” Lucan said, astounded. He had been ready to have a prolonged conversation on the matter.

“Yes.”

A bit of weight fell off his shoulder, but just a bit. “Now I only have to persuade Father.”

Thomas chuckled. “Leave that to me.”

Lucan raised a brow.

“I will leave in a few days,” the steward continued, unperturbed.

Lucan nodded slowly, still perplexed, as the old man left him. This had gone easier than expected.

Well, he’d been working hard. The coveted saltworks would begin promptly, the waterworks would continue with better oversight, and the hamlet the refugees had built near the lake was coming along nicely. The farmers would be–

Huh. The idea struck him out of nowhere. I wonder if it’s truly feasible. And I hope Father doesn’t imprison me in our empty treasury.