15. N #3
And if we solve all those problems, we will face a powerful enemy on their home turf with magic that we must conquer in order to survive. All the while time there spins eight times as fast there as here. Does that about sum it up?”
Haldeen opened his mouth to correct the king’s math. Closer to ten, not eight.
Someone stepped on his foot.
The king glanced at the nobles, spread out a bit to avoid the risk of proximity to Haldeen.
“All right, first things first,” King Alliard said, “every city in the Jeweled cities is doing exactly what we’re doing … pretending to cooperate while trying to be the first to get to the gold mine. We’re not going to survive unless we start sharing our toys.
I’ve got a Farspeaker session with the other Kings where we’re going to lie to each other about how just how much we’re sharing. That needs to stop. At least half the Jewels are in worse shape food-wise than us, so have less time for a fix.”
Kaeltwyn cleared his throat. “Um, Your Majesty, how do you plan to proceed?”
King Alliard laughed mirthlessly. “I’m going to try something radical. Honesty. We’re going to share our toys, our secrets, and our situation with the other Kings. Perhaps if we go first, then others will follow. Assuming every one of the Jeweled cities has a Haldeen,
then we’re duplicating the same work seven times.”
He looked at Kaeltwyn. “Yes, High Lord, we’re giving up an advantage, but The Lord High Provisioner has given us a deadline that the Lord Gatekeeper can’t meet. So, unless you good nobles have something that changes that particular equation, we need to try something different.”
Haldeen could see the nobles trading glances. Kaeltwyn grimaced, uncomfortable with the king’s undivided attention. “How do you wish to proceed, my king?”
“I’ll talk to the kings, get them to see the light. High Lords and Lords, reach out to your in-laws and counterparts. Tell them where we stand, tell them what we discussed here. They will question your motives. Good. Let them. But, tell them.”
One of the birth lords spoke up from the back rank. Haldeen couldn’t place the voice. Neither could the king for that matter. “Who’s that?”
“Lor-lor-lord Molkres, Sire,” came a thin and reedy voice. A few of the older lords smiled. Haldeen saw at least two roll their eyes.
“Come out, lad,” said King Alliard. “Your father was a friend of mine, before he passed. How are you and your new bride settling in … she’s a Darune isn’t she, from over in … Garnet … isn’t it?”
“Yes, Sire,” the youth said. “My father-in-law said the same thing. Too much holding out. Said everyone thinks that if they sit on the part of the boat that isn’t sinking means they’re safe. Told Ameline that the last time she Farspoke him.”
The very young lord looked around at the unfriendly eyes surrounding him and began to blush.
“Boy’s got the right of it, though,” Alliard said. “Your bride’s father sits on the Garnet Grand Council?”
A quick nod.
Alliard turned to Haldeen. “We’ve been spreading you too thin. From now on, you have one task, and one task only. To find a way to defeat their magic. That’s it. The rest we’re going to hand over, get the others involved.”
He crooked a finger at Kaeltwyn. “When we’re done here High Lord, have two of your stouter lads go with Haldeen, and collect up every scrap he has that relates to the Gates. I want them copied and ready to send to the other Kings.”
He turned to Haldeen, his face hard as stone, his voice flat with restrained anger.
“You’ve been playing games with me, my Lord Haldeen, holding out this, and holding out that. That stops. I want your undivided attention, Lord Haldeen. When I dismiss you, you will proceed to your estate with the two fellows that Kaeltwyn sends. There, you will hand over every scrap, every note,
and all of your records to Kaeltwyn’s people. There will be no willful misinterpretations, no playing games, and no pretending I meant one thing when I meant the other. Toy with me on this, and Gatekeeper or no, you will swing. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Haldeen replied in a small voice. He had heard King Alliard roar with anger, snap with frustration, and bellow at Lords who failed him. None of those moments came close to terrifying him as much as this steely, controlled rage. “I understand.”
He held Haldeen’s eye. “Kaeltwyn, you will have his notes by nightfall. Any mistakes … his, yours, mine … doesn’t matter, then by my order he will be thrown off the wall for the Preds to play with.” Haldeen could just see Kaeltwyn arch an eyebrow at him.
“Haldeen’s notes are the easiest part of this knot to unpick. I’ve no doubt that every Gatekeeper in the Jeweled cities is working the same problem. Haldeen’s made more progress than the others, I’ll warrant, or his Probe would have tripped over theirs.”
Haldeen blanched. Something else that hadn’t occurred to him. Another city, working on the same problem, would arrive in the same place. The cave. My cave.
The king continued to survey the group. Haldeen tried to back away, but stopped under Alliard’s stern glance.
“I will put it to the Kings. Our information comes with a catch. It gets shared to all the cities, and each city puts their top Master on it, the best with their Gate lore. Two tasks. Verify the Great Gate works. Figure out how to get it up and running.”
The lords began to nod along, starting to follow where King Alliard led. Lorenz, noble-born, spoke up. “My wife’s a Mistria … her family built its fortune on Gate lore. They don’t like me much, but her father thinks she hung the moons and covered them in gilding. Start with them?”
Alliard nodded, then looked to the Lord Marshall. “Good. Next. We’re a hundred leagues from the Gate’s location. Amethyst is closer, I think. eighty, or so.”
The Lord Marshall nodded quickly. “Thereabouts, Sire.”
“I’m going to work on Amethyst to get them to lead the really hard part. Forcing, cutting, or fighting a corridor from the city to the Great Gate’s location. Everything we have, with the exception of the actinics, we will use to open an escape route.
All the cities will have to deliver up firelances, troops, Skydancers, whatever is needed to punch through to the Gate.”
“Sire?” said a very timid voice from the back. “About the rations—”
All the lords parted to reveal the lone woman in the room, a very young widow of one of the last of the lords who’d built their fortunes on their farms.
Obviously now a very impoverished widow, since those farms were long gone.
Haldeen recalled the talk about the country lords and their impoverishment.
It never occurred to him to consider that one had been standing a few feet away.
She visibly gulped, then, at the king’s nod, continued to speak.
“There are many small resources, that combined, could add a few more days to the rations, or even make up for the losses. All those people with tiny gardens, potted plants—I’m not saying confiscate those, I would suggest that the produce be counted against their daily rations.
That returns more to the common store. And,” she added thoughtfully, “that will encourage them to make their little plots even more productive.”
The king’s eyebrows slowly rose, as he nodded his agreement. “Lord Provisioner, make it so. Organize it however you need to.” He continued to gaze at the young widow. “You have more?”
She licked her lips, nervously. “There are potential ration makers we have not touched yet. Noble families. The bare-yellows, people who can only make a bar or a handful in a day. And an enormous labor pool in the children and the elderly. Even if the children cannot yet use ambient magic,
they can tend algae vats. Cancel schooling and install vats in the schools. Move all the elderly into central housing so their bars are easy to collect. Gather everyone not working a critical job and get them to make single bars a day, or half-bars, or crumbs.
Make that their ration so they aren’t pulling on common stores.”
Haldeen almost uttered a nervous laugh at the idea of his ladywife being told she was going to be working in the ration room.
Someone else burst out in a guffaw, which was quickly stifled at the king’s glare.
“She’s right. We no longer have the option for a few to spend their time in pleasurable pursuits when there are mouths to feed. The bare-yellows can help feed themselves. And our children will have to grow up now. Lord Provisioner,
find places and things we can convert quickly to vats and production stations, with a minimum of labor. Everyone must work, unless they are too young to stand or sit behind a table. No work, no ration. If someone wants to share theirs with someone who can’t work, that’s their outlook.
Even an old cripple in a wheeled chair can tend a vat or a row of plants.”
Haldeen noted what had not been spoken. If someone actually was too sick or elderly to even do that?
Leave them with nothing but water and allow them to starve to death, I reckon.
Someone else tittered nervously. “I don’t fancy telling my wife she’s going to have to put on a smock and make ration bars ….”
“You won’t have to,” the king said, iron in his voice.
“Lord Provisioner, you will make up orders under my seal and send them personally to the female heads of households throughout the city. Make it very clear that anyone who objects is going to have to find accommodations elsewhere.”
His lips thinned into a hard line. “They can always try their luck outside the gates.”
Haldeen watched Alliard working through the details.
“Team effort for the Gate. Amethyst leads the charge to take the Gate. Gatekeepers get it up and running. Evacuees pass through the corridor and out. Lord High Provisioner tells us to the crumb where we stand food-wise.”
Everyone noticed the vast silence around who would be evacuated, and in what order.
“Then, it’s up to Haldeen to tell us how we beat them. Hard and fast. I take as fact that we will lose a lot of troops taking and holding the corridor between Amethyst and the Great Gate. Questions.”