for permission to cross their land, the rulers of each kingdom would get copies of any of the surface maps they wanted, but if they wished to know the locations of other things the Deliambrens uncovered, they would have to pay.
All of which seemed perfectly reasonable to Visyr, but apparently there were those who were incensed by the idea; they felt that information should be given away, no matter how hard someone had worked to obtain or create it. As a result, the expedition was stalled, and he was taking little jobs like this one to prove just how useful those accurate maps would be. If the Deliambrens could point out that even the basic maps would contribute to generating revenue or solving problems, the various rulers who were causing difficulties might see their way clear to removing their objections. They might also find it easier to accept the very moderate fees that the Deliambrens would charge for other information.
Of course, Visyr thought, noting down the dimensions of another building, they could always go out and look for their treasures themselves.
This was no bad way to pass the time while he waited; it was useful and needed work, and the Duke was being quite generous in his wages. The Duke had always wanted absolutely accurate maps of his city—and now that Kingsford was being rebuilt, such maps were more important than ever and not just for the constables. People now had the opportunity to build whatever they pleased, wherever they pleased, and many of them were doing just that. Property owners were taking advantage of the situation to move original property lines, stealing inches and even whole feet of property from their neighbors.
Sadly, there were many who were no longer around to care what their former neighbors did, and their heirs were either children or too wrapped still in grief to realize what was happening. Eventually, though, they might discover what had happened and want some legal redress, and Visyr's maps would give evidence of what had happened.
The trouble with human, ground-pounding surveyors was that they took more time than Visyr did. They had to lay out measuring tapes, and use other equipment, to do what he did by eye. They often stalled traffic while they were working, and they got in the way of pedestrians. And while they could measure the size of something, they wouldn't necessarily get its placement correct.
Humans do this very well, when they are measuring out open fields. For a job like this, you need someone like me. That was the long and the short of it, so far as Visyr was concerned.
Another problem that surveyors encountered was that people were building things behind walls and fences that they wouldn't let the surveyors pass. Without going and getting an authority who would force the owners to let the surveyors inside, there was no way of telling what was or was not in there, and most surveyors simply didn't want to take the chance of angering home and business owners. Walls and fences didn't hinder Visyr, and there would be a number of folk who would be very unhappy with him when this survey was over, and they got tax-bills for outbuildings, workshops, and secondary dwellings that they hadn't reported.
But by then I'll be gone, so they can be as unhappy as they like. Frankly, I think Arden deserves the extra tax money. If it weren't for the money he is putting into the city, these people wouldn't have public water, covered sewers, or any of the other more pleasant innovations he's building in.
Visyr liked Duke Arden; most people did, he suspected. It wasn't difficult to like the Duke, as Arden was personable, persuasive, and really did have the welfare of his people first and foremost in his mind. He had made some very sensible laws about the rebuilding in Kingsford that were being violated every day. There would be some unhappy people when the Duke's men appeared to levy fines or tear down illegal constructions that Visyr had uncovered, but some of those structures were fire hazards and others were clearly not supposed to be where they were. It was one thing to keep pigs and goats in the country, but putting them in a tiny scrap of yard in the middle of a residential district was going to make
It might have seemed odd to conduct this survey in the dead of winter, but cold didn't particularly bother Visyr, and he would much rather fly in a snowstorm than in a rainstorm. Besides, in winter no one was doing any exterior construction; any building going on was all interior work. That meant that if he could finish this work before spring (and he certainly should be able to!) he wouldn't have to backtrack to add new buildings.
So far no one but the Duke and a few of his people were aware of what Visyr was up to. Plenty of people knew that the Duke had a Haspur at his Court, but after the great to-do caused by another Haspur at the Court of the High King, the masterful musician and singer T'fyrr, they probably all assumed he was a musician, too. And he was, but not a professional like T'fyrr; all Haspur could sing, and any Haspur would probably impress a human who'd never heard one before, but anyone who had heard T'fyrr would never mistake Visyr for a professional.
But as long as people thought he was a musician, no one would wonder why he was hovering over their houses. If they asked, he had a standard—and quite truthful—reply.
