The Elder Lands - Chapter 45: Silver Thorns

The horses clopped rhythmically on Lucan’s new road as the party trotted their way into the territory. It had taken them less than a month to arrive, during which they had only suffered from boredom and the aches of a long journey.

The first movement they saw was that of a dozen laborers working on the new irrigation channels. Lucan was aggrieved at seeing a miniscule part of his shiny, new road demolished to make way for the main channel. It was negligible, but it still alerted him to the importance of early, good planning. All his ideas were quick in showing themselves and even in being implemented, yet that turned out to have its own downsides. Different plans could, and perhaps always would, contradict each other in parts.

They had to cross over the dry channel, one rider at a time, on a makeshift bridge made from planks nailed and roped together.

The laborers were working a bit to the south of them. Some of them waved and others bowed as they passed. But before long, they found a lone rider coming their way from the motte-and-bailey’s direction. Lucan recognized Lee, the old man-at-arms his father had left behind as castellan in his stead.

He greeted them with a raised hand, nodding to Sir Golan. “Sire.” Then he turned and rode alongside the knight, speaking quickly in a hushed tone.

Lucan only caught snippets of their conversation, but it seemed that the old man-at-arms had sent the other three under his command to Lord Arden’s territory to help in fending off the Wildermen, leaving only him and Thomas to care for the fief.

They hastened their trot at Sir Golan’s behest, quickly passing by dozens more workers near the road and in the distance. Most of the laborers savored the opportunity to stretch their backs and look upon a new sight, the rest only giving a passing glance to their small procession and continuing with their work.

They soon reached the wooden palisade of their fief, and Lucan felt a comfort that could only come from the familiarity of home. The weathered logs of the wall were like an old friend he’d not seen for an age, and the keep looming over the bailey was like a mother’s embrace beckoning him forward.

They crossed the drawbridge over the first moat and rode through the bailey, dismounting before the second drawbridge that led up to the keep.

His father hastened ahead with Lee, eating up the walkway with large strides. The rest of the men waited as Lucan guided Sawyer forward. The engineer was looking worse for wear, his face toned and his travel clothes dirty, though he’d certainly strived to wash his two sets during the journey with limited success. Lucan patted the grumbling man on the back and gestured for him to follow him. “Careful while climbing. The planks are steady but you could still slip.”

The men-at-arms followed them up, and they were soon climbing the stone steps to the keep’s main hall. Lucan had Cordell show Sawyer to his chamber and to where he could have a bath, while he went to find his father and Lee.

As expected, Lucan found them in his father’s study. His father was seated behind his desk, and Thomas and Lee were seated across from him, the latter having been interrupted by Lucan’s entrance.

“Lucan,” his father said. “I was just about to send for you. Come, take a seat. Thomas and Lee have much to tell us.”

Lucan took a seat beside Thomas and his father gestured for Lee to continue whatever he’d been saying before.

“…The raids have let off recently,” Lee continued what he’d been saying before the interruption, “which is the only reason Lord Arden’s steward hasn’t sent a grievance to the King.”

Sir Golan frowned, his eyes shifting between his two aides. “And why does Lord Arden’s steward need to send a grievance to the King? We arrived as soon as we reasonably could.”

Lee’s countenance turned solemn and he gave a meaningful look to Thomas who, in turn, took a deep breath and began to explain. “Word came from the lands of Sir Upton and Sir Wolfe. A mine was found.”

Sir Golan’s brows rose in surprise, and a silent question came over his face.

The steward continued, “A silver mine.” He let out a heavy sigh as he answered the knight’s unspoken question. “Regrettably, what should’ve been a good thing turned into a thorny affair.”

Lucan’s father frowned in thought for a moment then spoke before Thomas could continue. “You said that word came from the lands of both Upton and Wolfe. Whose land is the mine on?”

Thomas’s elderly features squeezed into a rueful smile. “Both. It’s within the ridge that marks the border between their territories by royal decree.”

“Damned gods,” Sir Golan muttered. “What happened?”

“As one might expect,” Thomas said. “There was a dispute that soon grew in intensity between the stewards who were backed by their sires’ men-at-arms, and it unfortunately led to some of them coming to blows. Thankfully, no blood was drawn that day. But the men-at-arms have stayed in their territories since, to safeguard their sires’ rights to the mine. Naturally, that means that they are not aiding Lord Arden’s troops at the border.”

“And word didn’t reach Upton or Wolfe in Eldham? They were prompt, but they didn’t seem in too much of a hurry to leave,” Sir Golan said.

Lucan had to agree. His father’s need to leave had been pressing due to his distaste for the court, and they had ridden a day ahead of the other knights, while old Lord Arden had been given leave even a day before them and had probably ridden to his territory as hard as they had or harder because it was his lands at risk. Yet the other knights had only taken care to not be tardy but had not been possessed of any sort of haste.

“I persuaded the stewards not to send missives to their knights, since if the King got word of it, it would end well for no one. It would be best to come to an agreement once Sir Wolfe and Sir Upton return.”

His father let out a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a grunt. “An agreement? I doubt it. If the mine is that close to both their territories, then they will both claim it. This is indeed a thorny matter.”

“Perhaps the knights’ friendship might make negotiation more favorable,” Thomas said.

Sir Golan shook his head. “They’re on good terms, but their friendship isn’t that deep.”

“Then perhaps their esteem for you can be used to reach an accord,” Thomas said. “If you were to mediate…”

Lucan had been holding himself back from interrupting them so far, but once Thomas grew silent, he couldn’t help but interject, “Yes, Father. We must interfere. This will be good for us. Merchants will be going mad for the silver. Perhaps I should send someone to find us a jeweler in Arpague.” He took a breath then rattled on. “Clifton is best used to a big city, and perhaps Ryder to go with him. With only the two of them, the journey shouldn’t–”

“No one is being sent to Arpague,” his father interrupted him. “We have duties to observe in the South. Even if the raids have ebbed, the Wildermen are doubtless still nearby.” He glanced at Thomas and released a sigh of his own. “I will mediate though. Let’s use the time the Wildermen have given us as best as we can, otherwise, this matter will end up being elevated to the royal court, and then it will be a proper mess.”

Lucan scrunched his face in thought while the old steward and the old man-at-arms nodded in agreement with his father.

He couldn’t help but think that they were fortunate this time, but they had to make the best of their fortunes too. It would have been a truly joyous affair if that mine had been found in their territory, but alas it was not. It was good enough for Lucan though. Now they only had to entice the merchants to come for the silver and hopefully salt too, soon. It would be best, however, if they invited a jeweler to their fief. The best uses for silver were minting coin and crafting jewelry and silverware. The King had sole authority over the former, and only proper craftsmen could do the latter.

His father was right, though. They couldn’t send their men on an errand while the borderlands were endangered by such untimely raids. He’d have to wait. Hopefully, the raids would be done and over with before the hay harvest. Since some of the merchants would pass by after the minor harvest to buy meats, skins, and wools. And that would be the best time to spread the word about the silver. It would be best to have a jeweler handy at that time too.

The presence of the craftsman would set Lucan’s mind at ease, since he would be certain that he could deliver on promises of jewelry to the merchants. But it would also be a compelling reason for the metal to be sent to their fief for trade. The knights were already sending their produce to be sold here, since more merchants at the same place meant better offers for their goods, but that would do nothing to prevent them from trying to attract trade to their own lands in time. And with a silver mine in their lands, the merchants would be happy to oblige. Lucan needed to have his pieces in place ahead of it all. All he had to do now was wait.

Thankfully, he had other matters to keep his mind off what he couldn’t do. On the morrow, their estate would finally see the stubborn salt lake defeated.

Lucan came out of his thoughts to find his father’s eyes fixed on him, perhaps waiting for his agreement too. So he obliged and nodded along with Lee and Thomas.

“Very well,” the knight said. “I will try to catch Wolfe and Upton as they pass through. It would be better to get ahold of their ears before their angry stewards do.”

The next day, Lucan rode with Sawyer to the lake. The engineer looked much better today, as reflected in his mood. He was beaming at the expanse of green and brown surrounding them and occasionally scowling in disapproval at the work of the laborers they passed by. Still, the nearly-polished, clean skin and the fresh clothes seemed to do him much good. His back was straight as opposed to the hunched-over state he’d been in during the second half of their journey, and his hair was brushed instead of being a disheveled, greasy mess.

They rode on and eventually arrived at their destination. As they came up on the crater where the saltwater pooled into a lake, Lucan spied the new hamlet built by the stream to the west. The smoke from a cooking fire drifted into the sky near the small hovels that had sprouted up to crowd each other. Beside them lay the fields where the new inhabitants earnestly grew their crops. Hay harvest was approaching, and soon they would earn their fair reward.

Lucan turned his attention to the engineer. While he’d been gazing at his handiwork, Sawyer beside him had been scrutinizing the lake with a critical eye.

“This is indeed a hurdle in need of a good engineer,” the engineer said, still eying the lake. Then he turned to Lucan and saw the quizzical look on his face before continuing quickly, “Which I am.”

Lucan nodded emphatically.

“I will need a few days to appraise the soil and work on my plans,” Sawyer said, pulling out a large scroll of vellum. “I will also need the aid of some laborers.”

“You shall have both,” Lucan said. “I can have the hamlet host you if you wish to stay near the lake.” He gestured towards the distant group of huts along the stream.

Sawyer snorted and nearly choked on a brief laugh. “I believe I will be fine riding the short distance from the keep. I’d rather keep myself odorless for more than a day.”

Lucan nodded. “As you wish.”

“Once I’m done with this undertaking, we ought to talk about the channels.”

“The channels?”

“Yes. They are, without a doubt, a tragedy of engineering.”