Preserving Hope (The Aliomenti Saga - Book 2) Page 16
Arthur, who’d noted Will’s protective streak toward Elizabeth, ensured that the two were never part of the same morning group of five. Maynard, on the other hand, always accompanied Elizabeth, and passed leering grins at Will as they departed and returned each morning. Elizabeth’s “work” continued throughout the winter, and the cold, by her own design, worsened the effects of each session. At least she had Traders there most days; they’d stand by the doors of the Schola as each day’s “facilitator” arrived with the young woman and would join her inside. They endured the same trials Elizabeth endured, and Will noted with some satisfaction the looks of concern on the villagers’ faces at seeing the suffering and pain extended to others. Perhaps they’d see Elizabeth’s plan work yet.
At long last, warmer weather returned, the snows melted, and the villagers were able to resume construction of the duct system. The extensions were far less a time burden than the construction of the original aqueduct, and the carpenters were able, with minimal assistance from Will, to complete an initial run that would direct water into the well. The finished the work two weeks later, and Will was sent to remove the blocking wood from the start of the aqueduct by the Wheel. By agreement, Will counted to one hundred, replaced the blockage, and returned to the village to see the results. He learned that the water from the river had filled the well quite extensively in the short period of time the water had run; in fact, taller members of the village were able to draw water with buckets without needing to use the rope system.
Many villagers said that the knowledge that the well could now never run dry was proof that the construction project was worthwhile.
The second phase was the creation of the drainage system, essential to allowing the Wheel to turn and supply water on a continual basis without the worry of flooding the village. They started once again at the endpoint — in this case, a stream only one hundred feet from the village gate — and started the first section of the drainage duct at the edge of the water, lying directly on the ground. When they reached the village wall near the gate, they were able to bore through the outer wall and feed a section of the aqueduct into the opening.They maintained the same upward angle, but with wider and deeper troughs, until they reached the stable door frame and stopped. The last section had an end preventing water from flowing out the end in the unlikely event that the drainage water would flow backwards.
“Why not feed it directly up?” Joseph asked. “If we’d done that, we could connect it to the duct with the water flowing in.”
“We don’t want it to connect directly,” Will replied. “We’re going to make a duct system running off the inflow starting at that height and a somewhat modest angle, and allow the water to pour down into the lower trough like a waterfall, before it all flows out to the stream.”
Joseph frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“If the bakers wish to clean a dirty baking pan, they can hold the pan under the waterfall, and the water will clean it and carry the residue away. If someone wants to fill several buckets of water at once, they can do so quickly. And…” Will hesitated. “We can partition off the areas closest to the exit to serve as latrines.”
Joseph’s face wrinkled as he pondered this. Then his eyes widened. “The falling water would enable the… er, refuse, to more easily be washed away!”
Will grinned. “Exactly. We’ll keep that downstream from the place where we wash dishes or collect water, though.”
Joseph laughed.
The waterfall ducts proved somewhat challenging to construct, as they didn’t want all of the water coming out at once. Joseph’s team built a standard aqueduct section, and tapered the bottom away; it was widest at its highest point and narrowed into nothing as it reached the edge of the wide lower trough below. The carpenters built several poles, and the weavers created large tapestries to provide some degree of privacy for the latrine. They built a panel inserted into the incoming water aqueduct which controlled how much water went into the drainage system and how much would go elsewhere; elsewhere, at the moment, consisted solely of the segment used to refill the well.
On a cool April morning, the day after the Traders returned from another profitable trip, half of the villagers marched to the Wheel, a group which included Will and the Traders. Those remaining behind to watch the impact of the water flow included Arthur, Elizabeth, and Maynard. Joseph and the carpenters stayed behind as well; they’d need to watch for any sign of structural problems as the water coursed through the system. With little ceremony, Will climbed up the ramp on the shore-side dock and removed the water shield. The Wheel, as it had for so many months, continued turning as the turbulent waters of the Ealdor River pushed the paddles, and bucket after bucket of fresh water was collected and dumped into the waiting aqueduct system. With the shield removed, Will and the others raced back to the village and entered the gate, watching in awe as the water from the river made its way over the protective walls and into the downspout, where it fell as a wide waterfall into the waiting trough below. The water continued flowing, and Will was one of a handful of villagers who trotted the length of the drainage system to watch the water reach the stream.
Aldus grinned. “That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. You’ve basically moved water from one river to another without anybody needing to do anything.” He laughed. “I can die happy, now, even if those mythical magical abilities Arthur keeps selling never appear. This is true magic, right here. Thank you for this, Will.”
Will chuckled. “We all did this, Aldus. Not one of us could have done it alone. Everybody chipped in, everybody believed.” He frowned. “Well, there was quite a bit of doubt when the Wheel went in the wrong way. If you’d told me back then, back when nearly everyone gave up, that we’d be watching this water from the Ealdor reach this stream… I’m not sure I would have believed you.”
Matilda smiled. “Will, I met with many dukes and earls and barons, men who are supposed to be leaders. None of them… none of them… would have kept trying at that point. Oh, they might have beaten some slaves to get the job done, but it never would have happened.” When she realized what she’d said and saw Eva wince, she patted the older woman on the arm. “Sorry, Eva.”
Eva forced a smile. “You’ve done well, Will.” In his head, with her nascent telepathic abilities, she projected a warning. Be careful. Arthur probably thinks you’re getting too popular.
I won’t stop trying to help people due to his insecurities, Will replied. Aloud, he added, “Thanks, everyone. Let’s go eat.”
They walked back into the village, where a roar of applause greeted them.
Over the next several days, the community came to love the flowing water. They enjoyed the sound of the waterfall near the gate, and they especially enjoyed the fact that they’d eliminated the need for latrines. The metalworkers created sheets of metal, and they covered all of the former waste deposit sites with metal and a healthy coating of dirt. The smell, which Will had grown accustomed to after his arrival, all but disappeared.
The unlimited, easily accessible supply of water had a near-immediate impact on the skilled workers. The metal workers were able to make longer and sharper blades, heating the metal to higher temperatures than ever before, because they could readily run to the waterfall to cool the entire lengths of metal. Prior to the running water, they’d focused on daggers and knives, needing to plunge the heated metal into the buckets so that it could cool and harden. They were able to make better tools for the carpenters, who in turn increased the speed of production and the level of quality of their crafts. The brewers were able to experiment with different combinations of grains and create ales and beers that were superior to any others of the time. Eva, Will, and the rest of the Traders were soon traveling with far greater frequency, often spending less than ten days in the village before overflowing Stores required them to travel again.
Will had little time to engage in Trade. He had consulted his diary during the winter, and was pleased that his children
had elected to provide him with a list of herbs to treat most common illnesses, and he used this information to purchase a small supply of each. He also purchased a separate bag filled with the herbs, which he learned to identify by sight. He hadn’t heard of most, save for a rather large quantity of poppy plant extract that he knew was called opium. The merchant selling it agreed to a price for a small quantity, and then decided — without any urging by Will — that she’d prefer to be rid of all of it. Will felt like an old school doctor because of the bag, which he kept stored in his room. The villagers were seldom sick, and as such he was rarely called upon to act in his role as a doctor. He was comforted to know that he was prepared if needed.
The Traders, for the most part, spent time between trips sharing information gathered in the towns, primarily relating to the types of goods and styles people wanted to buy, which enabled the workers of the various crafts to tailor goods for the various markets. The Traders were more inclined to visit towns again after the villagers created goods crafted especially for the tastes of such a town. Profitability soared again. Over the course of the year, their wealth continued to grow. It was likely that each of them had amassed enough gold and silver to rival many of the dukes, earls, barons, and other nobility of the time.
Will oversaw the construction of the planned extension of the aqueduct system to reach into the Shop areas, which would further increase productivity. They wouldn’t be able to repeat the solution used by the stables to enable a constant flow of water. Getting the water low enough to be usable would see a drainage aqueduct cutting off foot traffic between the Shops and stables. They needed to keep the duct system up in the air, above their heads, that enabled them to access water only as needed. “If only we could cut a hole in the overhead duct that we could close as soon as we had the water we needed!” fumed Winter, a woman who worked in the metal shop.
That gave Will an idea. He explained to Winter that she would need to create a thin sliver of metal wrapped into a coil. The coil could expand when pulled with sufficient force, but would naturally contract back to its original size. They stopped the flow of water to the Shop aqueduct while the carpenters mounted ladders and cut a small, circular section on one of the sides, near the bottom of the duct. They then attached one end of the coil — which Will told them was called a spring — to the main section of the aqueduct, and attached the other end to the small door. Winter also created two small pieces of metal to use as a hinge. They coated the entire door in sap to waterproof it, and attached a length of rope to the “door.” Tests were successful; the “door” would open when pulled, and the spring would pull it closed when the rope was released. Will had recommended the side of the aqueduct for the door to avoid the possibility that the weight of the water might keep the door open, in spite of the spring. They put a trough beneath the door to catch the water collected, and tested everything before the water was allowed to run to the Shops on a continuous basis. Over successive weeks, they created hinged openings with springs near each Shop.
They spent time after the final harvest of grains in the fall using a similar technology to build a spur from the main aqueduct to the fields lying to the south of the aqueduct, and to the west of the village. The hinged door fed water into an aqueduct that carried water directly to the fields, which would enable the farmers to keep their crops watered even during conditions of drought.
Will asked for a few hinges and springs, and the metal workers happily complied. Will paid them a silver coin for their efforts. It was a sample of the innovation the village had produced, and he looked at the products with a sense of pride.
The community thrived financially, enjoying a huge abundance of grains grown in their fields. Their products developed a reputation; towns no longer shunned the skilled Traders, they welcomed them and the quality goods they brought. They added additional Shops and reached the point, as winter approached, that they were essentially self-sufficient. The Traders purchased only luxury items in the form of fine wines, silks, shoes, boots, and cloaks. During the winter, Will and Eva taught classes in the Schola – with the doors open – teaching the villagers to read and write. As spring dawned, the Traders received many requests to look for the rare book that might be available for sale.
For all of their success, however, one man was suffering. Arthur found fewer and fewer people who still believed his tales of people with incredible abilities. His stories were widely dismissed, and were seen as myths perpetuated by a man desperate to believe in something that simply didn’t exist. He was the only one remaining from that first trip who had seen the reputed abilities. Genevieve was dead, and Eva’s brother had left over a decade ago and never returned. The other Travelers, outside a man named Roland, had returned long before Will arrive, returning without success. All had taken up new trades, and were among the most vocal doubters Arthur’s stories. Roland had departed three years before Will’s arrival and, like Eva’s brother, was presumed dead.
With the loss of belief in Arthur’s vision, and the prosperity achieved through the innovations Will suggested, few bothered to pay Arthur a coin to hire Elizabeth to do “research.” Instead, she was occasionally hired to clean rooms or perform other menial labor. As before, her pay went to Arthur. The few true believers left still eagerly tried new combinations of ingredients on Elizabeth; as always, the testing produced no results. She celebrated her eighteenth birthday without fanfare. Will gritted his teeth and paid Arthur five gold coins to ensure no one else scheduled her on that day and teleported her outside the walls to the cave, where she sat, brooding. He sat and watched her, not certain how to proceed. Her mood had been growing darker over the past few months, and though he suspected the reasons, he waited to let her speak.
After what seemed like hours, she finally turned to him. “Why are you avoiding me?”
Will sighed. He’d spent little time with her in any fashion, especially in this setting. She surely knew why, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. “I’ve not been avoiding you, Elizabeth. I’ve been Trading in other towns and cities, and working to build all of the water systems. It’s not a case of avoidance. It’s a case of my being prevented from being around you.”
She glared at him. “Are you afraid of him?”
“Who? Your father?”
She snorted. “No. Maynard.”
Oh. “I am always worried about what he might try to do to you. I also recognize that the more I make my concerns in that regard clear, the more likely he is to act at Arthur’s direction. They suspect there’s a bond, though they most certainly have no idea as to the nature of that bond. And they see me as the ultimate threat to their control of this community.” He opened his mouth to speak to what Arthur and Maynard might do to pressure him to alter his behavior and weaken his role in the village, but knew that would only further dampen her mood.
She knew it anyway. “He doesn’t see me as anything other than a prop to use to grow his own power. I know that. If you’re the threat, and you care for me, then they’ll threaten or actually hurt me to subvert you.” Her mood darkened further. “Is it even possible for me to succeed in changing him?” Elizabeth sighed deeply. “I doubt he’d change even if I died, even if I died because of his need to control.”
“Don’t say that!” Will snapped. “Do not speak of dying!”
“Nobody would care but you and Eva, Will,” Elizabeth said.
And he knew she was right. “You need to leave, Elizabeth. Before they try to hurt you.”
She shook her head. “This is my home, awful though it might be. Until he changes, or until one of us dies… I’m staying.” She glanced at him. “Don’t force me to do anything else.”
He nodded. “Happy birthday, Elizabeth.”
She said nothing.
Will spoke to Arthur that evening. “She’s eighteen now, Arthur. She needs to learn a trade of some kind. Every trade here is looking for more people. Let everyone know that she’s able to work with them. She can sow seeds, she can forage,
she can—”
“She is not to work outside these walls. She can work with the animals.”
Elizabeth, thankfully, took to caring for the animals with the closest thing to enthusiasm that she could muster. Will, who watched her over the next several weeks as she cared for the cows and goats that supplied their milk and the chickens that supplied their eggs, saw an occasional smile, which quickly faded to a gloomy frown.
Everything changed in an instant, as two words echoed from outside the gates.
“Roland’s back!”
The cry came from one of the foragers, who rushed through the gates to alert the rest of the villagers. Will, who had been talking to Winter the metalworker about building metal ducts they could run under the ground, glanced up. He saw Elizabeth look up as well, turning her attention from the fresh straw she had been carrying into the stables.
Roland entered the village, carrying with him a large bag constructed of some type of animal hide. His face was joyful, and Will watched him look around the village in amazement, taking in the elaborate aqueduct system and the coursing waterfall near the stables. As Arthur and the others gathered around, he began to share his story.
“I traveled west this time, heading for the coast, and then journeyed north until I reached a port city. I had previously only traveled south along the coast, and thus spent much of my time along the great sea in the lands once conquered by the Romans. As many of you know, the other Travelers and I have always been treated with great suspicion. We’ve been told thousands of things might help one develop the abilities we’ve seen, or that might do nothing, or that might make you desperately ill or even leave you dead. But we’ve never been told, with certainty, that a very specific item does work and will work.”