Chapter 16: The Shock and the Triumphant Return
Chapter 16: The Shock and the Triumphant Return
After leaving the secluded cove beach, we boarded the carriage bound for Baron Claus's residence. It was inside that rattling leather cubicle that my father's intense interrogation began. Lord Arl fired off dozens of questions about the drawings I had made. Some, Monk Katriny helped me clarify; others, I answered myself within the limits of my truncated speech, but overall the dialogue flowed without major issues.
The real knot in my father's mind tightened when I began to stipulate the area of land we needed to buy for the project, including the cove beach.
— We will need the equivalent of two hectares of land, Father — I explained, focusing on my diction. — Or at least a hectare and a half of usable area.
And I began listing the structures that artisan Gronis would have to erect on the sand. I explained that the initial three evaporation drawers would have to be expanded to ten units of treated wood. To maintain production during cold and rainy periods, we would build a stone shed with furnaces and four circular copper basins for boiling the brine. Integrated into this, in the calm sea, we would install wooden stakes with hemp nets for sustainable kelp cultivation and oyster baskets to filter and clean the water. Finally, we would establish a tree farm nearby for a regulated firewood supply, requiring the planting of three new saplings for every trunk felled. It would be a complete and renewable production cycle.
When I finished my explanation and looked around, I noticed that silence had taken over the vehicle. My father and Katriny were staring at me with faces of pure astonishment, as if their minds were incapable of conceiving that line of reasoning.
The first to catch her breath was the panda-monk, her furry ears twitching:
— Young Master Kaelen... did all of this come out of your head? How do you manage to foresee so many organizational details in a single plan?
I made a puzzled face, blinking with childhood eyes.
— What do you mean, Katriny? It is just elementary logic. If we harvest salt directly from the water, solar yield will be excellent on hot days. But on cold or rainy days, evaporation stops in the drawers. That is why the bronze basins and furnaces in the boiling house are necessary to maintain the supply during winter. Furthermore, the kelp from the nets can be dried and ground in mortars into powder. If we mix one measure of this powder for every hundred measures of dry salt, we will create health salt. This fixed mineral will prevent peasants and sailors from developing that terrible goiter disease, which leaves people with huge, swollen chins like frogs. And the timber farm guarantees fuel without depleting the fiefdom's forests. If we stop production to wait for nature to recover on its own, we will waste time and gold coins.
My father brought his palm to his face, visibly overwhelmed by that flood of economic data. He let out a heavy sigh and interrupted:
— Son... please stop for a moment. My head is spinning. I want you to put every single one of those drawings and words on paper. I will inspect our vaults to see how many gold coins we have available, and I will speak with Baron Claus so we can purchase the hectare and half of the beach. But be warned: two days from now, you will have to explain all this engineering to him at the council.
I looked at my father and he looked like a soldier who had been run over by a herd of warhorses. Katriny kept her eyes wide, looking like a frightened cat that had seen a ghost float by. Heavens, this is the most basic knowledge of production cycles, I chided myself mentally, bewildered. I believe any master builder or artisan in Téia knows this, right? Why are they reacting like this?
I folded my hands over my tunic and tried to calm them down:
— Don't you think you are overestimating my plan? By my report, the total annual capacity will be three tons of health salt. This medicinal mineral should be worth double the price of common salt in the market. The amount will be more than enough to supply our fortress and the entire port city of Teguma. Of course we can expand the business in the future, but we would need to track down new white-sand coves along the coast. Right?
Why did they look at me with that look of total nonconformity every time I opened my mouth?
Katriny kept her thoughts in a secret whirlwind: "By the gods... how can a mind of six winters structure a cycle like this? My former master of orders used to cite the prodigies of the capitals, but this boy has gone entirely out of control... How am I going to explain to him that not even the greatest master engineers of the kingdom could imagine such a sustainable integration? I am speechless."
My father's despair operated on a much more dangerous military and political frequency: "I didn't understand half the terms he used, but the final calculation was clear: three tons of medicinal salt per planetary year. And he guaranteed it cures the goiter disease affecting coastal sailors and mountain serfs. If the Crown gets wind of such a monopoly on my lands, the King will grant me the title of Marquis or Count on the spot! But on the flip side... we will have a rush of greedy nobles trying to plunder our borders. If the neighboring Baron of Ghalia suspects this wealth, he will find any pretext for war to invade our fief through the Great Black Forest. I will have to triple the active troop contingent in the barracks to protect this boy."
I looked at the two of them and they looked like two jellies that had melted under Teguma's dual suns. They were leaning against the leather seats as if their souls had left their bodies. I didn't miss the chance to crack a joke to break the ice:
— Well, look on the bright side. This will generate a lot of gold and work for the province's serfs. Cheer up!
The two of them glared at me at the same time. My father massaged his temples and decreed with his command voice:
— Kaelen, this is a military order from our house: two days from now, organize your papyri and prepare for the meeting with the baron. Katriny, assist the boy with cuneiform writing.
— Yes, my lord — we answered in unison.
The rest of the journey to the temporary residence in Teguma was marked by a sepulchral silence.
The Council of the Three Souls
Two days later, the heavy doors of the banquet hall were sealed for the grand meeting. Baron Claus presided over the center of the rotating round table, with my father stationed on the right wing and the imposing Lord Varian Aurelius positioned on the left. We began the explanations around ten in the morning.
I handed over the rustic papyri containing the detailed report on the wooden drawers and marine polyculture. With Katriny's help, who translated my gestures and pointed out coordinates on the map, I began deciphering the logistics of health salt. At first, the countenances of the two leaders shifted from commercial joy to restrained shock. By the time the clock struck four long hours in the afternoon, the expression of Baron Claus and the tiger-man had escalated to total disarray, and finally, to political despair. In the corner of the room, the dwarf Gronis, who had been hired for carpentry, was trembling so hard that his iron tools rattled at his belt.
Are you serious? I asked myself, watching the worker's technical panic. The laboratory caused a collective mental collapse.
As soon as I concluded the final line of the report, silence fell over the hall like a boulder. Gronis stepped forward with heavy steps across the stone, his knees knocking from nervousness. The dwarf collapsed to his knees in front of my small six-year-old chair, raising his calloused hands:
— Young Master Vance... I beg you by the ancestors of stone... allow me to be your humble apprentice in this new art of refining!
I jolted in my seat, waving my hands in utter refusal:
— What do you mean, Master Gronis?! Wait a second! I am just a child of six winters, how do you want to be my apprentice? Let me grow up and finish my fencing drills first!
The dwarf rose with renewed pride, turned to the governor of Teguma, and struck his fist against his chest:
— Young Baron Claus, I swear by my forge hammer that I will execute every oak sluice on this beach with imperial precision! I will not leave this province for anything. I accept receiving only half the gold coins agreed upon in the mystical contract, as long as I am granted extra time to dialogue with this small master and understand the engineering behind his reasoning!
I was startled by the dwarf's technical fanaticism. Baron Claus cleared his throat, trying to regain his posture as a fleet captain:
— We will deliberate on the craftsman's terms, Gronis, but the final decision rests with Lord Arl... However, this salt treatise will completely alter the ocean's trade routes.
Lord Varian Aurelius slammed his claws against the table, his striped tail moving gravely:
— Not just the sea routes, Claus. We will have to make heavy investments in border military patrols. We must ensure that the wagons transporting sweet roots are armored against plundering and robbery on forest roads. It will take me many moons to restructure the overland routes of House Aurelius, and you, Baron...
— I will need to expand the harbor piers to accommodate merchant ships from the capitals — Claus completed, his brow furrowed. — We will have to hire more sailors and elite mariners, which requires a larger contingent of soldiers. And what will your strategy be, Lord Arl?
My father sighed, crossing his iron arms:
— I will need a minimum of three months of rigorous recruitment to train new swordsmen and defense knights for the walls. Time is short.
Lanterns in the Fog and the Alert of the Past
Looking at the concern of those three robust men, I couldn't contain my university professor impulse. I leaned my hands on the table and dispensed my geeky advice:
— Look... I don't understand the bureaucratic difficulties of your Houses, but as for the delay in overland routes, if the serfs throw limestone rocks into the ruts and clear the trees closest to the margins, the muddy roads will dry faster and the wagons will gain speed. If the problem is robbery and plundering by bandits, why don't you establish a temporary custody contract with the local adventurer guilds? They receive silver coins per mission, and the fortress saves the cost of maintaining fixed soldiers on the road. As for the shortage of soldiers for the walls, military instructors can conduct physical aptitude pre-selections in every village of the province to recruit the strongest peasants before winter. And for the ship problem in the port... colored flags atop the masts help, but if captains use a flashing signal system with oil lamps and colored glass during fog, it will be infinitely easier to identify whether an approaching vessel is friend or foe in the tides of Aegis. I... well, I recall reading something like that in an epic mariner's journal.
The three leaders and Monk Katriny froze once again, staring at me with expressions of pure intellectual horror. My adult mind had shattered the barrier of simplicity once more.
I shrank back into my chair, hunching my boyish shoulders and bringing my palms to my face:
— Ah... I'm sorry! Forget what I uttered... I am just a child and know nothing of naval tactics, really!
The sudden break in tension made the nobles burst into thunderous laughter in the hall.
— Your son is truly a unique rarity in the world, Lord Arl! — Claus commented, wiping away a tear of laughter.
After the bureaucratic deliberations, Katriny and I were finally dismissed from the council. I was informed that our entourage would depart the following morning back to our border fortress. Just imagining the return journey, I put my hands behind my back, making a face of pure sadness and panic. My buttocks had not yet recovered from the first martyrdom.
Noticing my anatomical despair, Katriny stifled a sly laugh with her furry paws:
— Young master... pfft... if it pleases you, I can swipe a very fluffy feather cushion from the baron's sofas to mitigate the suffering of the journey... pfft...
— You traitorous bear! — I glared at her, irritated. — You are mocking my pain on purpose again!
When we were about to reach the hallway of our quarters, Valeria's silhouette emerged from behind the tapestries, halting our steps. The little white-furred feline girl had a visibly melancholic expression.
— Is Young Master Kaelen already leaving in the next tides? — she asked, lowering her ears.
— Yes, Valeria — I replied gently. — Tomorrow we take the road by carriage.
— Please... don't forget our home and me, okay? — the countess whispered shyly. And without giving time for a reply, she turned her back and ran toward the gardens.
Katriny leaned over my shoulder, letting out a mocking laugh that got on my nerves:
— My, my... it seems you have permanently stolen the little striped countess's heart. What a romantic fate, young master.
I looked at the panda-monk with a cold, calculating expression, crossing my small arms:
— Don't waste your temper on mockery, Katriny. Tonight we will have exhaustive revision work with Master Galupono's new scrolls, and we will spend the night awake organizing the notes.
— You don't need to worry about romances; you will have plenty of work to occupy your mind.
The panda's ears wilted immediately.
— Young master, you are being terribly cruel! That breaks the rules! A lady of the Order needs her beauty sleep so she doesn't wake up with a ruined face!
We shared short laughs over our own complicity and pushed open the heavy oak door of the room to start packing our bags. However, the exact second my tiny fingers touched the rustic wood of the frame, a painful, violent pang crossed my head. My ability to read the past of objects activated unexpectedly, triggering a crisp warning in my mind.
The greyish vision of the recent past exploded before my eyes.
I saw our own room, just a few hours before our arrival. The door was opened stealthily, and the traitorous coachman of our entourage entered with light steps. With a look of pure greed and nervousness, he rummaged through every single one of my linen drawers, tossed the bear blankets onto the floor, and inspected the corners of the desk, desperately trying to find any notes regarding the secret of sugar or salt to send to his handlers.
Frustrated at not having found a single written line, the spy punched the headboard of the bed in frustration and muttered to the walls:
— Damned child... There's nothing kept here!
— I urgently need to send some substantial report to Baron Kenneth; he's becoming completely impatient, and the neighboring nation demands results.
— The growth of this Vance border is far beyond expected. They are enriching themselves and growing too strong with this trade...
— That boy has become a real danger to our plans. But there's excessive surveillance around him all the time because of those monks... I will have no choice. We will urgently need to set up a new ambush on the return road!
The image dissolved like smoke and I stumbled backward, gasping for breath while holding my head in my hands. Cold sweat broke out on my forehead, but fatigue was replaced by a icy fury.
The spy had revealed his cards in the dark of our chamber. The silence of our fortress had exhausted the enemy Baron's patience, and they were already planning to shed blood on the forest roads during our four-day return journey. Danger was no longer lurking in the future; it would be driving our carriage horses the very next morning.
