NOVEL NEXT Chapter 48: Not Precisely
After years of turmoil, the royal declarations began. Generals, nobles, and warlords declared themselves Kings, some by merit of imperial blood, others by merit of ancient lineage, and yet others by the sole merit of military might. As the Empire struggled with the Kingdoms consuming it from within, the fanatical Mer invaders were left to do as they pleased. The people of the province of Faria struggled bravely but would sadly be subsumed by the abominable nature of their oppressors. Only one entity stood vigilant to the threat of the defilers. Hamodeus. The Kingdom that never once bowed to either Emperor or Mer. She wasn’t alone, however. Concerned over their Eastern neighbor’s aggressive expansion, allies of circumstance came to her aid from the Warring States, Mer who disdained the Archtheocracy’s Levaiathan and all who worshiped it. It wouldn’t be until years later that the rest of the peoples of the Elder Lands would grow wisen up to the threat of their one true enemy.
A History of The Fall, Moralia Kid
Lucan closed the book. This time it was Clifton at his door. After Lucan called for him to enter, the man-at-arms pushed the door open and peered from outside. “It’s the engineer, Master. He says it’s good tidings.”
Lucan nodded and stood up. The brief ride between the keep and the lake was made a blur by the nigh daily repetition of the act. Sometimes while riding, Lucan would be lost in thought for a moment only to find himself already at the lake or the keep.
Now as he arrived at the lake, he found hundreds of laborers, some of them working, some of them resting, around the circular crater that cradled the lake. In the middle of them stood his engineer, made prominent by his manner and color of dress. He waved vigorously as Lucan and Clifton approached on their horses, his shaggy, brown hair shaking with the movement.
Lucan dismounted and Sawyer quickly invited them to look over his construction. There was a wooden crane overlooking the lake, driven by the strongest of the laborers. Down below it was the newly earth-filled part of the lake, seen from above in the shape of half a circle. It was flat, ridged only by a small bump built by the technique Sawyer had once told him about to prevent raised water from spilling back into the lake. One hut had sprouted up in the middle of the pan on slightly higher ground, and three bucket mills were spread out along its rim.
“What is missing?” Lucan asked.
“Nothing,” Sawyer grinned like a child with an Isle pear. “I thought it would be a proper surprise. It’s all done.”
“Done?” Lucan gaped. “This early?”
Lucan gazed at the young man incredulously. “Do you jest?”
“While I’ve been known to be daring sometimes,” Sawyer said. “There’s such a thing as being too audacious. No, I speak the truth, Master Lucan.”
Lucan found the engineer’s smile infectious now that he was privy to its cause. He couldn’t help but let out a joyful laugh as he looked down at the salt pan. They’d done it. He hadn’t been reaching, after all. This…This could be what makes my father agree to my other proposal.
“We’ve been awaiting your arrival,” Sawyer said. “I reckoned it would please you to command its first order of work.”
Lucan raised his brows. That was thoughtful of the engineer. And if he were to be honest, it was something unexpected too. Sawyer was often absentminded if not outright dismissive when speaking to anyone, including him. Lucan had blamed it on the engineer’s busy mind, considering the two undertakings he’d been overseeing. But it seemed that he wasn’t as uncaring as he often let on.
“Thank you,” Lucan said. “I’d be happy to give the command.”
Sawyer gave a signal which was echoed by several of the more seasoned refugees which led to a quiet spreading over the hundreds of men around them. All of them now watched him, waiting for something.
“Give the signal,” Sawyer said, his voice a whisper beneath a breath.
Lucan smiled and raised his hand up high. Then he cut the air as though his arm was a sword, causing a return noise and movement among the men. Laborers took to stairs carved into the wall of the crater, descending down to the pan. Most of the laborers were looking over the crater, cheering their peers on. The work only needed a few of them, after all.
They urged the cattle to begin driving the mills. Water was raised and poured onto the flat pan, slowly spreading like thin paint at first, but thickening in depth a while after as Lucan allowed his mind into a trance while watching.
Sawyer cautiously pointed to a platform that Lucan hadn’t spied before, because it had been right under them. It was slightly raised above the pan, and the crane beside them seemed to lead down to it.
“That’s where the salt will be gathered and bagged after drying, to be raised up here and hopefully sold.”
Lucan nodded along. “Good. Good.”
“I assume this has been to your satisfaction, Master Lucan?” Sawyer said.
“It has,” Lucan said, nodding vigorously. He softly repeated, “It has.” Then he closed his eyes to think. “I must go now. There’s something of import that I must handle. Magnificent work, Sawyer. I imagine you’ll now be diverting your focus fully to the waterworks?”
Sawyer nodded slowly, apparently disappointed that he wouldn’t be staying longer.
But Lucan had other things on his mind. He thanked the engineer again and mounted his steed to ride back to the keep.
Before Thomas had left for Arpague, Lucan had gotten an idea that had been immediately torn down by his father. Lucan didn’t blame him, since it would have taken a fair amount of coin, particularly if one considered their treasury’s state. Now things would be looking different though.
“Truly?” Sir Golan said, his eyes wider than Lucan had ever seen them. He was seated behind his desk in the study while Lucan stood across from him.
Lucan nodded, failing to hold back his grin. “Yes, Father. We can expect our first load of locally made salt in less than a fortnight.”
“Auspicious!” his father said, laughing heartily. “Bringing the engineer was a wise choice, Lucan. You did well.”
“Thanks, Father,” Lucan said. He then eyed his father carefully, and the knight returned his stare with a hint of suspicion.
“You want to discuss that other proposal of yours, don’t you?”
“Yes, Father. Apologies, but I believe it would be another wise decision. Though I have something else on my mind too. Thomas is late. He should’ve returned a fortnight ago.”
His father shook his head and gave him a reassuring look. “Have no worries about Thomas. He’ll handle whatever difficulty is keeping him. Let me hear this proposal of yours again. I’m afraid I don’t remember much of it.”
That’s because last time you interrupted me once I mentioned the coin and before I could explain anything, Lucan quipped to himself.
“Yes, Father,” he said. “The high cost of salt mostly comes from having to move it across the Elder Lands from wherever it’s made.”
His father nodded noncommittally.
Lucan was certain of what he was saying though. Salt was in high demand. And it would be an exaggeration to say that it was cheap where it was made, but it was much cheaper there than it was in the middle of the continent for instance. Merchants had to carry it from whatever coastal settlement had proper saltpans. The Vincemare, the Union, and Hamodeus were particularly capable on that front, their peoples seasoned in the profession, and their old structures expansive. Pontis had attempted to benefit from the salty Dying Sea, but whatever was draining it nowadays wasn’t doing so by evaporating the water, at least not mostly. The water receded continuously, but it left little salt behind, and any pans they dug would have to be moved closer to the shoreline every year.
“Our intention is to sell our salt here, from the middle of land,” Lucan continued. “And it will bring us a considerable amount of wealth for certain. But if we could make use of its presence right here in our lands and make the best of it, we stand to gain even more. We would still sell it of course, but we could also use it for other things, which would be sold for even more. Remember the hamlet we had the refugees build near the lake?”
Again, the knight nodded, this time his countenance serious and focused. His interest emboldened Lucan to continue.
“I propose we lend them the possession of a considerable amount of livestock–goats and cattle. Over the seasons, they would be able to produce enough meat and cure it with the nearby salt for sale. The hamlet would likely need to be expanded in land and populace, but that’s also a good thing. There are expanses of good grassy lands near it, particularly under the looming Western mountains. Their livestock will have plenty of places to graze.”
“You say ‘lend’,” his father said. “How so?”
“We will buy the livestock ourselves to hasten our plans, but the costs will be a debt the people of the burgeoning village must repay us over a reasonable amount of time. We have already given them safety and land to work, anything more, they will have to pay for fairly.”
His father bobbed his head slowly, a small smile settling on his face. “And even as they sell their cured goods, we’ll tax it too.”
“Indeed,” Lucan said. “There’s a lot to gain, and hopefully little to lose.”
“That can’t be said for certain. You never know, son. A bad season could kill most of the livestock, or bad herdsmen at that. I suppose it remains to be seen. It’s a good proposal, even if I’m averse to spending what little coin remains in our treasury. Elders know, Thomas has already taken enough for your jeweler.”
Lucan grimaced. He’d forgotten to take into account that bringing a craftsman of such skill to the backend of nowhere would likely cost them a fair bit of promise and coin. Thomas had brought the matter to their attention before leaving and had taken enough coin with him to handle it.
“It’s worth the commitment, Father,” Lucan insisted, in case his father began to have second thoughts. “And things are already looking brighter than they used to. The salt will soon be flowing. Ah, and Sawyer even said that he could hasten the completion of the waterworks.”
His father’s countenance evidenced more and more that he was for the proposal and not against it, and Lucan couldn’t help but ask, “What say you, Father?”
“Well, son, I don’t see why–”
They were interrupted by several soft knocks on the study’s door. Lucan raised a brow in surprise because the knock sounded familiar.
His father beat him to it, standing up. “Come in!”
The door opened and their old steward stepped in, looking a bit worse for wear from travel, but not unhealthy. “Greetings.”
“Thomas!” Lucan couldn’t help but grin. “You’re back. How was your journey? And did you bring back the jeweler?”
Thomas nodded to his father first before turning to Lucan with a tight smile. “The journey was swift and easy on my old bones. And regarding the other matter…Well, the answer is…not precisely.”