Storm Rising

'But I will have buildings and walls,' he reminded them. 'With any fortune at all, by exchanging unskilled workers for skilled, I will have them faster. I will even grant you this; for jobs requiring neither skill nor strength I will hire two boys—and by 'boys,' I mean children ten years old and younger—at a man's wage, and that is probably fairer than they would get anywhere else.'

It was, as he knew very well, more than fair. Girls didn't normally work in the Empire, they went to school until they turned sixteen, then became servants or got married. Some few became mages, entertainers, or scholars, but seldom craftspeople. Boys who worked usually got whatever copper bits they could scrape up; if they were apprentices, they got room and board and stayed grateful for both if their masters were generous.

'I think we can agree to that,' Sandar said quickly—as Tremane had thought he would. 'Send a list of what you have to dispose of over to my office; we'll either barter the work of apprentices and journeymen for it or buy it outright, provided it isn't totally useless, like ornamental funeral urns or some such.'

'Oh, I think I can guarantee it won't be anything of the sort,' Tremane said agreeably. He was already making a mental list of things his men wouldn't need from the looted stores. Raw iron, tin, and copper bar-stock, for instance; he didn't have any smiths, but there had been crate after crate of the stuff in the storehouse. By now, this town must be running low on raw metals—wars disrupted trade, after all, and he hadn't seen any mines or smelters in operation around here. He had enough finished metal goods to last his men for years; he didn't need the raw material. He had more horse tack than anyone would ever need; he had cured leather by the stack, and he knew by the state of some harness he'd seen, mended with bits of rope or patched together with bits cut away from worn-out straps, that they'd welcome both tack and leather. Those were just the things he could think of immediately. No, there would be no trouble finding things these people would be happy to see.

'In that case, we'll be getting on our way,' Sandar replied, showing a bit more color in his thin face than he'd had when he came in—and a bit more hope, as well. 'We'll have to send criers out all over town to round up the unskilled laborers, but Master Kerst will have an answer for you from the Guild of the Masons and Woodworkers shortly.'

'Is there a—a Thatcher's Guild?' Tremane asked, wondering if he sounded like a fool for asking.

Stoen laughed. 'No Guild, lad, but I'll have plenty of thachers for you once the harvest's in. Never fear of that; most farmers know how to thatch a roof fair handily. You'll be wanting thatching straw, then?'

He nodded, relieved to have that one out of his hands. 'Yes, and a great deal of it, I suppose. These barracks are going to be barnlike buildings, and a thatched roof has been recommended.'

'Just leave that to me,' Stoen assured him. 'Thank your gods, the one thing we've no lack of is thatching straw.' He sighed. 'Keeps well, and there've been fewer roofs to mend these days.'

The men shook hands all around, and the delegation left, escorted by the aide. Tremane remained where he was, behind his desk with his nose buried in the ledgers line by line, making up his list of barter goods. He found an amazing variety of absolutely useless items—useless to his men, that is. What in the name of all that was holy would they do with a hundred pairs of women's half boots? Or three crates of gilded copper bracelets? Or regulation Healer's tunics and trews in sizes too small for any man in the force? All of those could go; since his Healers wore the plainest of clothing without rank or regiment marks, even the tunics and trews be redyed and used as common clothing. Tools—he had enough shovels to give every man two; he certainly didn't need that many. Small hatchets, hammer-ended, made for pounding tent stakes into the ground and cutting firewood—again, he had twice as many of those as he had men. Did he really need all those tents? He certainly didn't need six decorative dress-parade pavillions!

There were things he didn't need but was not inclined to put into the hands of former enemies—siege engine components and weapons, for instance. But why on earth had the Imperial supply depot been holding six trunks of costumes for veil-dancers? Or all the scenery, props, and costumes needed for a production of The Nine-Days King? Or an entire field mews for thirty hunting birds, complete with imping flat-drawered cabinets?

Though I do know why it had that 'special tent and accountrements for the Commander's recreation. Duke Clerance can't even field an army without his mistress, and she can't do without anything she's become accustomed to. That should certainly bring a pretty piece of coin. Best he didn't let on that it was meant for a courtesan, however. Let the ladies of the town that still had money argue over who obtained what.

There were oddments; insect veiling for swamp campaigns, white salve and suncoats for desert fighting, camp furniture for officers—a few of this, a dozen of that. Once he had his list, he gave it to his clerks to copy out in Hardornen and send to Sandar, then went about writing up the orders calling for volunteers for harvest work.

Those required very special care in phrasing. No man receiving special pay for special skills will be accepted for harvest work. As he'd told Sandar, he did not intend to lose a single skilled builder to pulling roots. He made it quite clear in his orders that he would not tolerate any 'interference with or molestation or harassment of the women, married or unmarried, of the farms.' He reiterated that Imperial Army rules regarding civilian women would hold and that there would be officers there to enforce them. He did this very deliberately; without coming out and saying so, he was telling the men that there would be attractive—or, at least, fresh-faced —young farm women working alongside them. They would know that there would be severe punishment for taking liberties with the civilians, but if a young woman and a young man decided to meet some time after the soldier was off-duty, and the soldier had proper leave to go off-grounds and conducted himself with respect for the lady's wishes....

Farm labor might be hard work, but it was easier than building walls, and for those soldiers conscripted from farming families, it would be much more pleasant. And certainly the surroundings—especially surroundings including unattached young women—would be much more congenial.

I might get more volunteers than I can spare. I'd better make arrangements in advance for a rotation of duties so I avoid the appearance of favoritism.