B3 Chapter 47 (Patreon)

Lucan rose with the sun, sitting up in his bed, skin bare under a thin quilt. Spring was perhaps the finest of the seasons, temperate and mild. In its brief stay, they didn’t have to hide under a mountain of blankets nor bear the sweat of a thousand suns.

He leaned over his still sleeping wife, her skin bare as well, most of it sheltered by the quilt save for her shoulders. Lucan lowered himself and gave her a peck on the side of the forehead. Even after a long journey and the vigor of last night, he still had eagerness in him, but there was much to do, and a dearth of time to do it.

He rose out of bed and went about his morning ablutions, and then headed to his study, where Thomas, ever the early bird, met him.

“I have woken up Sawyer,” the steward said as they settled in the study. “He should be here promptly.”

Lucan nodded. “After, I would have you, Cordell, and Aldous here for another matter of utmost importance.”

“Aldous?” Thomas quirked a brow.

Lucan gave him a deep nod. “I hope our coffers have been doing as well as when I last left them.”

“They have,” Thomas said. “Perhaps even a little better. Why, though? Another undertaking on your mind?”

“Yes.”

“Is this venture along the canal not enough weight on the treasury, Lucan? No one knows what tomorrow brings, and coin can always serve a troubled house.”

“It is, and it can,” Lucan said with a sigh. “However, time is of the essence. What I wish to do cannot wait, and it will serve us against those very troubles if done well.”

Thomas nodded slowly, though he still seemed unconvinced. Then he moved to something else, something that Lucan knew would still be on his mind. “The girl you brought.”

“What of her?”

“What’s the merit of bringing her here? What’s her worth, and why do you honor her folk so?”

Lucan waved him off. “That’s a matter for another time.”

“But–”

They were interrupted by a knock, and Lucan called for Sawyer to enter.

The engineer opened the door and stepped in, bowing to Lucan quickly before approaching the table. “Your hale return gladdens me, my lord.”

“Thank you, Sawyer,” Lucan said. “Thomas tells me you have the plans for the canal prepared.”

“I do, my lord.” The engineer nodded. “Most of the undertaking is hard labor. There is little skilled work, except the planning and the work on our tools.”

“How long do you reckon it will take?”

“Two years.”

Lucan closed his eyes, then opened them again, taking a deep breath. “Too long, my good engineer.”

“One year, if I am allowed to use all the labor there is in the estate only for this purpose.”

“Then you shall have it,” Lucan said, then he paused, tilting his head. “You say that there is little skilled work in this, that labor alone will cut it short, yes?”

Sawyer bobbed his head.

“With enough labor, could you perhaps finish it in half a year?”

Some mirth came over the engineer’s face. “I could, my lord, but that would need once again as many laborers as we have in the whole territory.”

Lucan gestured to Thomas. “Spread the word north. Lord Zesh is sparing good coin to strong, honest laborers.” The steward raised a brow, and Lucan continued, “We will be paying them well, but not too much better than what we have already been. Plenty of folk will be happy to escape the coming war, particularly those who might be escaping its recruitments. We ought to get another flow of folk from the north when word reaches the right ears.”

“That will cost more coin, yet again,” Thomas said

Lucan nodded. “It will, but it will also hasten the benefit we will garner from the trade. It is better that we see this undertaking done sooner. I would rather it cost me more coin than to see the merchants find another route to bring their goods between east and west. The Hamodians would certainly be happy to levy more tolls on their strait. Perhaps even The Vincemare will open their borders for this opportunity.”

Thomas nodded his agreement at last, and Lucan turned back to the engineer.

“My lord,” Sawyer said. “Should you indeed provide me with enough labor, the canal can be cleared before winter.”

“Good.” Lucan nodded again. “Now to other matters. After the canal is cleared, we will need an abundance of warehouses for all the merchants that will stop here.” The engineer nodded, and Lucan paused for a moment, recalling something. “There was also this structure they had in the Union, a belltower.” He explained the purpose of the bell and how it had kept time for the city’s residents. Varencourt had, in truth, contained more than one belltower to keep the residents apprised of time, but Silvergate was small enough that one bell would be enough for now.

“It’s a simple matter, my lord,” Sawyer said. “I can set men to labor on it even before I leave for the canal.”

“You must head to Lord Ravencroft first to begin the works there,” Lucan said. “If this matter has to wait, then let it.”

Sawyer nodded, and Lucan gave him his leave.

Soon, it was only the two of them again. Thomas laid some parchments on the table, which Lucan gratefully took. Mostly, they were treasury matters, of which Lucan always wished to be apprised.

“More expenses,” Thomas said leadingly. “You have plenty of faith in our coffers.”

“The sooner trade begins on the canal, the better for the estate and the treasury too,” Lucan said, then a chuckle escaped him. He gave Thomas an apologetic look and continued, “I am afraid that’s not the last of its woes today, however. Summon Aldous and Cordell.”

Thomas sighed, likely thinking of what was waiting for him in the coming months. He stepped out of the study to send someone to fetch the two men as Lucan perused the parchments on his table, and there were plenty of them. Their coffers were healthy, at least until his plans this year began to drain them. Hopefully, trade would indeed begin to come through before winter, which would reward his efforts and make good on the expenses of all his plans and undertakings.

Thomas stepped back inside, words on his mouth. “Even should we finish work on the canal early as Sawyer said, are we certain all the other parties will match?”

“Lord Ravencroft will provide us enough coin for the same laborers to clear his end at the same time,” Lucan said. “While he is not the wealthiest of lords, he is no lesser than us, and he will spare no expense in anticipation of this turn of fortunes. As for the Union.” Lucan huffed. “We are buying time with coin, and if there’s anything the guilds have no shortage of, it’s coin. I reckon if they wished, they could buy enough labor to clear it in half our ambitious time.”

Thomas nodded, though he still seemed conflicted. The steward had watched over the estate in its leanest and direst years, having been accustomed to a lack of coin under his father's reign. In those years, he’d learned to pinch the estate’s silver like the most miserly shopkeeper, and Lucan couldn’t blame him, considering how dry their coffers had been in the past.

Cordell and Aldous soon joined them, their knocks on the door coming in quick succession. The two men stood side by side with the steward, awaiting his word.

Lucan took a breath and addressed them. “It is no secret that matters are coming to a head across the realm, and even beyond it sometimes. We cannot rely on others for our safety, even with the stalemate to the north…even with the alliance.”

“More men-at-arms?” Cordell said. He was right to assume, considering Lucan had brought him a man-at-arms out of nowhere, one whose stature and history would suggest desperation on Lucan’s part.

“No.” Lucan shook his head. “You were both on the campaign with me. You saw how the levy broke first. You saw how it was the knights and men-at-arms who held the line when it was time for our retreat. These men are lightly armed, barely trained, and unreliable at best.”

Aldous and Cordell nodded, obviously listening to something they already knew.

“I wish to remedy this matter,” Lucan continued. “I want to build a company, better trained, better armed, and better prepared for war. One hundred men I can rely on are better than five I cannot.”

All three men looked perplexed for a moment, but Thomas recovered fastest. “You wouldn’t mean to have a standing army like the Empire of old, would you, my lord?”

Lucan huffed. “Not quite.” He tapped the table twice with his fingers. “As you well know, farmers have respite time after winter harvest, then in midsummer before hay harvest.”

His men, still seemingly perplexed, stayed silent, though Lucan could see that the old steward was beginning to read into his intentions.

“I wish to recruit willing hands,” he continued. “Hopefully, those who have gone on the campaign as levies. Those who have seen a bloody battlefield and would still wish to don armor and fight again are bound to be the best soldiers.”

Aldous and Cordell looked at each other, then at him. “You wish to train a company of men, my lord?” The master-at-arms asked.

“I do. I also don’t wish for them to be in service for most of the year. Instead, they ought to do their everyday work in whatever professions they have chosen, with a negligible but steady resting wage from me. Their pay would be considerable, however, when they’re called upon to serve. They would be trained on fortnight ends when farmers rest and during the long lulls between harvests and sowings. One such lull is coming soon after hay sowing. It will be a good opportunity to give the company its first experience of proper training.”

“These men…” Cordell said, then seemed to lose his thoughts. “Most of those who’ve been on the campaign would do anything never to see a battlefield again. Most of this company will be made of greenhorns, I fear.”

“There is truth in that.” Lucan nodded. “But you forget, there are plenty of second and third sons that don’t stand to inherit their fathers’ lands. Some will find fortune among the latest changes and claim their own plots of land to the south, but others may still be in waiting, perhaps seeking another path. Those same second and third sons are often the ones sacrificed to the levy. You might be due for a surprise, Cordell.”

Thomas ended up nodding along with that.

Aldous suddenly began chuckling, and Lucan eyed him sharply. The master-at-arms raised an apologetic hand. “Forgive me, my lord. But it sounds like you’re raising a sitting army instead of a standing one.”

Lucan frowned for a moment, then the same thought that had struck Aldous struck him, and he burst out laughing. “Indeed, but it will be a sitting company.”

“And will this company have a name, my lord?”

“But of course.” Lucan smiled. “Named after our very town, even. The Silver Company.”