either side for various works. Ok?” They nodded, and a proud look crossed Arkin’s face. So far this was going well.
He pointed to the mills closest to them. “Neither of those buildings have smoke stacks, so that probably means that one is a grain mill and the other a saw mill. Like Arkin’s shop, an open flame is an issue in both those buildings, more so for the grain mill. There is enough dust in there to actually make the building explode if ignited.” This time there were a few “Wows!” from the others.
“There’s probably a loom on the lower level of the bridge too. It looks tall enough. Now, the big one downstream that has a lot of smoke is a foundry. The wheels drive billows and hammers, helping them to make a lot of stuff faster.”
Kovos broke in. “Yeah, I’ve heard of those. They’re used to make large-scale stuff and to refine ore into ingots that other smiths can use, but what is the dome for?”
“That’s a good question. I don’t know much about them, but I do know they are made by the Iumenta, and that most large cities have them. Arkin, can you help me out?”
Arkin smiled warmly at him. “Well done, Keither, and yes, I can help you out. Legon, can you tell me what happens to towns with dirty water?”
“People get sick, and I mean really sick, with diphtheria and other disease; that’s why towns put their dung heaps a good distance away from town or in a river to sweep it away.”
“There. You hit it right on the head: put in the river and swept down for another town to deal with. This is one of the only times you will hear me say that the Iumenta did something good, even though they only did it to keep their workforce in better condition.” Arkin really did hate the Iumenta, but Keither wasn’t sure why. They had done some good things, hadn’t they?
“If you look closely at that bridge you’ll see intakes where water is going into the far building. In that building are augers that are powered by the river. They carry water up to a main well in town. As soon as the well reaches a certain level, it encounters another pipe that diverts water to another well, and so on and so forth.” He paused, waiting for questions.
“Ok, so it’s easier to get water,” Legon said.
“Yes, and when the well reaches another level, the water is diverted to a pit where people dump waste, be it food, dung, or otherwise.”
“So then the waste is flushed to the river, I got it.”
“Not yet. The waste is flushed to that dome, which is called a condenser. Under it is a pit that’s around thirty feet deep and at the bottom a huge steel plate. Inside the main building and under the steel plate is a furnace. Bellows are run from the mill, keeping the furnace hot. All of the waste wood and grain from the other mills go there and to the foundry, too. The leftovers from the other mills are small and burn hot and fast. Also, the belongings of sick people can be burned here as well, and in some cases the corpses of the sick.”
“So whatever it is doesn’t spread, right?” asked Sasha. With her background, Keither figured she would show an interest in anything that kept illness from spreading.
“Right. The furnace makes the steel plate hot and boils off the water in the pit. There is another auger that is pumping water inside that dome, which is made of ceramics. Iumenta use a lot of ceramics; it’s one of their specialties. That water keeps the dome cold, so as steam hits is it, the steam condenses into water and is caught in a little ridge with holes that circles the rim of the dome, and then it goes into the river clean.”
“So the waste doesn’t infect another town,” said Legon.
“Correct. At the end of the day there is a stop in the pipe leading to the pit and people go in there and collect all of the remaining waste to be burnt in the furnace the next day. There are some other details from there, but you get how it works now,” he finished.
“Seems like a lot of time and money just to keep a workforce alive,” Keither added. He wasn’t sure just how bad the empire could be. After all, most people lived in relative comfort, and wasn’t it the good of the many that mattered? Moreover, he was feeling confident. None of the others could figure out the stuff he had, so why would Arkin be any different?
“It keeps your workforce healthy, yes. From my understanding this was a big fight with the Elves. Humans resisted placing measures like this in towns and cities because of the cost,” Arkin responded.
“So where the Elves failed the Iumenta have succeeded. Isn’t it possible that the Iumenta are not as bad as some people think, and that they think of the good of the many versus the cost?”
“You’d better not say the Iumenta are misunderstood, Keither,” Sasha said. He was taken aback by the tone in her voice. “Do you think the Royal Guard that killed a woman in front of your eyes was misunderstood? Or was that for the good of the many as well?” There was a defiant bite to her tone now. She did have a point, but the actions of an isolated group of human soldiers didn’t tarnish the entire Iumenta race. He began to open his mouth to retort but was cut off by Arkin.
“We are near town now. This talk can wait for later, and yes, Keither, it is a talk we will have. You don’t have to take my word. The Iumenta are not our friends. I’m sure you will be given more evidence than you have already.”
“But why not now? The…”
“Because we are fugitives and I don’t want attention, that’s why.” Arkin sounded irritated, like Keither had said something ignorant or childish. Was it wrong to want to continue the conversation?
Sasha felt anger seething in her. She couldn’t believe what Keither was saying. Didn’t he understand, didn’t he see how the queen was? This was all “academic” for him; he wasn’t in any near danger of being made a slave. He wasn’t there when they took Sara. She gripped the horn on her saddle harder, hearing the leather creak. It was rare for her to feel anger this strong, but when she did it was usually justified. It wasn’t that Keither didn’t have good points, the good of the many and such, but he was justifying the end result. There was a lot more to justice and good than most of the people having a comfortable lifestyle.
Or was there? She wasn’t sure. She knew the queen was evil, but why? That’s what mattered. Keither’s logic was sound but still she knew it was wrong. She thought hard, not noticing Salkay come closer and closer. Arkin had taught them one of the principles of the Mahann: “Black and white is all there is. Grey is just misunderstanding.” What did that mean?
Her eye caught a glimmer of something silver. They were at the gate of Salkay, and the glimmer was the end of guard’s spear. The owner was leaning against the wall of the town talking to another guard on the other side of the entrance. The man was tall and wearing leather armor with a wooden chest plate. There was about a week’s worth of black stubble on his face that matched his hair. The man looked very friendly, like the guy everyone knew and liked-ideal for a guard.
Legon wasn’t nervous about the guards. They probably wouldn’t bother them.
“Hey there, can I help you find something here?” said the guard.
These men were paid by the town to keep order and deter robbers, but also to act as guides. They were nothing like the guards from children’s stories that always harassed people who came by and were always ready for a fight. If there was no threat there was no need. It didn’t make sense for the empire to place soldiers in every town; if you did that then your fighting force was too spread out, so each town paid people to do the job. These people would fight, but they also helped the town thrive. They knew every shop and resident, so if you needed something when you came to a town you weren’t familiar with, the guards could guide you. This was also a great way to protect a town; happy and cheery guards got people talking, and people that might be trouble often gave themselves away.
“We need to get some supplies and I need to sell some horses,” Arkin said to the guard as they approached.
“Then you’ll want to see Bear. Go to your left and you can’t miss him, and if it’s traveling supplies you’re in need of, there’s Peg’s shop next door that can help you out.”
“Thank you. Bear?” Arkin asked.
“That’s a nickname. The guy is fat and hairy and looks like, well, a bear.”
“Does he like that name?”
The man laughed heartily. “Nope, not at all, but he’ll tell you he loves it just to save face.”
“Thank you for your assistance,” Arkin said graciously.
