bombs was an excellent way to store that energy in advance, meaning when the war started we would be able to produce as many such explosions as we had bombs prepared ahead of time.
The general idea we had worked out was to produce hundreds and have them hidden along the road long before the enemy arrived. On paper it was a great plan, but in practice I couldn’t make more than one or two an hour. My father had set up a temporary foundry to cast the iron in fist size ingots for me to use, but he was able to produce far more than I could possibly charge. In fact he had already made over a thousand, and almost all of them were still waiting for me to fill them with power. My only hope of doing that would be to devote my every waking hour to the task over the entire winter.
Obviously I couldn’t do that, help with the dam, organize the men we had recruited, and prepare the teleportation circles needed for my other plans. You get the point I’m sure. I was working on charging my second iron bomb for the day when my father came over to check on me. He was already done with his shift supervising at the dam.
“You look exhausted son,” he said. “Maybe you should quit for the day.”
“I can’t,” I replied, still focusing on the flow of energy into the iron. “I have to get as many of these finished as possible. We only have a few months left.”
“You spent six hours today helping at the dam, and I’m sure that must have taxed you. Then you come back here and spend four or five more… you’re going to hurt yourself. We can’t afford for you to kill yourself before the enemy even gets here.” Royce rubbed his beard as he spoke, a sure sign he was worried.
I was already tired and irritated, “Do you know any other wizards who might volunteer to come help out?” I’ll admit it. I was grumpy; otherwise I would never have spoken to him like that.
He frowned but didn’t snap back, “There has to be some easier way.” In all his years smithing my father had learned a thousand tricks to make his tasks easier. He just couldn’t accept that there weren’t any shortcuts in magic.
“It isn’t something I can get around. It takes a certain amount of energy to charge each one of these bombs… and I’m the only one who can do it,” I replied sourly.
“Can’t you get the energy from somewhere else?” he suggested.
“Huh?” I responded sagely.
He ran his fingers through his beard carefully, “Well millers don’t grind their flour by hand. They use a waterwheel to do the work for them.”
I sighed, “Dad I can’t just hook this up to some sort of magic water wheel! This isn’t the same sort of…” I stopped in mid-sentence, staring at him with my mouth open.
He watched me for a moment before commenting dryly, “You’re going to start catching flies if you leave your mouth open much longer.”
I didn’t answer, just shook my head, as if the motion would help put the pieces in my head together. A water wheel draws power from the motion of water, I had no idea how to do that, but some of my earlier enchanting experiments had used heat drawn from the environment. I could conceivably set up a temporary enchantment to charge the iron bombs in the same way. In fact I had first gotten the idea for storing explosive energy had come from my ill-fated experiment using heat energy to power a ward on a paring knife. It had exploded when the ward had put more power into it than could be held safely.
There was no reason I couldn’t do the same thing here. A temporary ward could draw heat to fill the explosive containment enchantment; I would just have to be sure to remove the ward before the limit was reached. I had originally thought of using the heat storing spell to create a device that would chill air… but if I used a stronger version it would work more quickly, and have a greater chilling effect. Perhaps it would be even be great enough to freeze water.
“What would happen if the water behind the dam froze solid?” I mused aloud.
“It might fracture the dam itself. Any water between the stones would expand,” my father answered promptly. I had almost forgotten he was listening.
“Would it matter?” I asked.
“Hell yes it would matter. As soon as the water melted the dam would fall apart. Even if it didn’t the damage would probably be enough to cause it to fail once the water started flowing through the fractures,” he said.
“What if the water didn’t melt?”
“Why don’t you explain what you’re thinking? Instead of asking dumbass questions,” he suggested. My father had never been fond of answering pointless questions.
“Alright, this might sound strange though…,” I prefaced.
“Like I’m not used to that already,” he snorted.
“What if we used heat drawn from the water to charge the iron? I think I could do it in such a way that it would cause the water to freeze,” I told him.
“How much water are you talking about freezing exactly?” he asked.
“I have no idea. But what if we could manage to freeze the river where it met the dam?”
“The water level behind would keep rising, and it would melt your ice. You’d most likely wind up with a mess and a lot of wasted time. Wait, are you suggesting we build the dam itself out of ice?” His face made it plain he thought I had lost my wits.
“Suppose we kept freezing the water as it rose, building higher levels of ice…”
He shook his head, “You’d have to freeze far more than that… the highest ice would always be at the same level as the water. I don’t think it would work.”
“Let me think about it,” I said. “I’ll have something to try tomorrow.” I finished the iron bomb I was working on and decided to call it an evening. I had a lot to think about.
Chapter 25
The next morning brought its own challenges, Joe had returned from the capital with the first string of wagons and men. I was about to head down to the dam to try out some of my new ideas when they came through the main gate.
“Joe!” I called to him. He was riding with a small group at the head of the procession.
He rode over to me, “Morning your lordship!” He doffed a cap he must have picked up in the capital and executed a bow while staying in the saddle.
“Your trip seems to have been good for you,” I remarked.
“Not half so good as it has been to you,” he replied. He pointed back along the line of wagons and men. “You can’t see the half of it yet. More than two hundred men have signed on, most of ‘em hoping for land. I’ve also got twenty wagons of lumber, seventeen of grain, several more with stock iron and tools… I’ll have to make you a list.”
“How many of the men are workers?” I asked.
“About half of ‘em, the rest are mercenaries, though I bet they’ll work a shovel as good as anyone,” he winked at me. “Let me introduce you to my new friend here… Angus McElroy. He’s a stone mason by trade, and a damn good one. Angus this is our Lord Mordecai Illeniel, the new Count di’Cameron.”
The man riding beside him looked short, though it was hard to tell since he was in the saddle. Balding on top he had possibly the broadest shoulders I had ever seen. “Nice to meet you your lordship.” He attempted a bow from the saddle as well, though it was a bit clumsier than Joe’s had been.
“Excellent to meet you Angus, I’ve got a rather complicated dam building project at the moment. I don’t suppose you have any experience in that area?” I asked eagerly.
“I worked on the pier construction in the port city of Krytos. I’ve never worked on a dam but I’ve overseen several large projects in the capital and I’m familiar with the issues of masonry and water,” he answered smoothly.
He projected a calm confidence. I took that as a good sign, the one thing we sorely lacked was experience. None of the masons I had working with us currently had ever been involved in large projects, much less managed them. “I’ll introduce you to my father; he was about to head over to the build site this morning. He’s currently in charge of the project but he could sorely use your help.”
