When they were all seated again, Corio turned to Trella. “My apologies, Trella, I see both you and your master are wiser than you appear. Sometimes it’s better to keep one’s wits hidden and so conceal your abilities.
“Your idea is a good one,” Corio went on, “and one I should have thought of myself. I’ve sent a boy off to find the well maker. We need to know about the force of the water inside the wells and how long it takes to dig new ones and where they could be placed. The water wheel would be an excellent way to lift and move the water. But I don’t think we would need to lift the water over the walls. Holes can be constructed in the wall just above the ground to pass the water through to the ditch. Yes, I think that would work.”
Corio paused for a moment. “We could use clay pipes inside the holes, and build some lengths of wooden troughs to carry the water from the wells to the pipes. The dirt in the ditch would remain a pool of mud, forcing the attackers to move slowly in it, but not so wet as to threaten the base of the wall, or rob it of its strength.”
Esk kar thought about Corio’s comment about hiding one’s wits and realized the master builder included himself in that group. Esk kar had always believed that people like young Drigo who spoke sharply and arrogantly all the time were smarter than he was, smarter than most others.
Perhaps it wasn’t true. Perhaps there were many like Corio and Trella who kept their wits and their mouths to themselves and so avoided the difficulties of appearing to know too much. He would talk about it with Trella later.
“Captain, for the first time, I begin to believe what you propose is barely possible. Whether it can be built in time, I’m not sure, but I will study the matter, and give you an answer tomorrow. It will be close, I warrant that much. But it may be that we can do what you ask.”
“Master Corio,” Trella said, “what of the gates to the village? Can they be made strong enough, if that is where the barbarians will attack?”
“The gates can be strengthened until they’re stronger than the wall, and the ditch can be twice as wide and even deeper there. We’ll need great logs from the forests of the north for that. As long as we keep them wet enough, they won’t burn. The barbarians will try to use a ram against them, but that will take time, and your soldiers will have to kill them.”
He looked at Esk kar. “I hope you’ve thought about barbarians shooting arrows at whatever sticks out over the wall?”
“Yes, Corio, I have.” He didn’t explain further, since he didn’t know yet whether the bows could be crafted in time or men trained.
Esk kar tightened his lips and remained silent, until Corio realized nothing further would be forthcoming. Corio wasn’t the type to ask again.
At that moment, the apprentice returned, accompanied by the village’s well maker. Solus had been appointed by the Families and was the only one in Orak allowed to construct wells. One of the oldest men in the village, short and stooped, he claimed nearly sixty seasons. The man had lived in and around the river all of his life.
“Yes, Master Corio, I come at your summons. What is it you wish to know?” Solus had trouble speaking, mostly because he had so few teeth left in his bald head.
“How difficult is it to construct new wells inside Orak, Solus?” Corio asked, getting right to the point.
“We already have four large wells for public use as well as many private ones that provide more water than we can use. Why would we want more wells?”
Another man with pride in his station and his trade, Esk kar thought with amusement. The old man had ignored him completely. Obviously Corio had worked with Solus before because he took the question in stride.
“We plan for the defense of Orak, and I need water supplies closer to the palisade. I need to know how much pressure is in each well, in case I need to draw large quantities of water each day. So tell me, Master Digger, how long does it take?”
Solus scratched his bald pate and took his time answering, plainly not used to rushing at the beck and call even of Corio, let alone some upstart captain of the guard. “To do it properly, cutting through the rock and walling the sides, about two months.” Solus looked around the table, as if waiting for someone to challenge his estimate.
Corio said nothing, just drummed his fingers on the table.
Solus went on. “As for the water pressure, the force of the river is powerful and the wells in Orak cannot be emptied. As fast as you take water, it will be replenished.”
“Even with a water wheel?” Corio asked.
“Why would you need a water wheel?” When he saw Corio’s expression darken, Solus hastened to amplify his answers. “Yes, even with a water wheel. Further inland, the ground is dry and even a good well can be emptied in three or four days of heavy use.”
Corio stood up and bowed to the digger of wells. “Thank you for your time and your wisdom, Solus. You’ve been of great assistance. I’ve taken you away from your work for long enough.”
When the man left, Corio turned to Esk kar. “He’s an old fool, but a good stone mason. As for the wells, I’m sure a working well could be dug in about a week or two. Solus is very good about taking his time and lengthening out the work. But I believe he’s correct about the pressure of the water.” Corio glanced out the door at the sun, then carefully rolled up his map, replacing it in the case, which he sealed tightly.
“I’ll go and review my estimates. By noon tomorrow, I’ll return and tell you what you need to know.”
“My thanks to you, Master Corio,” Esk kar replied. He stood and clasped Corio’s arm. “I’ve learned much this morning.”
“As have I.” Corio’s smile this time was more relaxed. He started for the door but then stopped and turned back. “Honorable Captain,” he began formally, “I don’t wish to offend, but I would ask something.” He looked at Trella, then continued. “If you should ever wish to sell your servant, then I would be prepared to pay almost any price. In my trade, I must search constantly for people with certain skills and talents. Your servant seems to have many such skills.” His eyes fl ickered from Esk kar to Trella and back to Esk kar.
“Master Builder, I thank you for your generous offer, but Trella is not for sale.” Esk kar smiled to show that he hadn’t taken any offense. “And we look forward to meeting you tomorrow.” He bowed to Corio, as did Trella.
Corio hesitated as if wanting to add something, but instead merely smiled. He bowed and left the room, calling out to his apprentices as he did so. Esk kar went to the doorway and watched him depart with his en- tourage. The master artisan had given him much food for thought, but now Esk kar’s thoughts were elsewhere.
He stepped out into the bright sun and called out to the guard, standing patiently at his post. “I don’t want to be disturbed by anyone for the next hour. If someone asks, tell them I’m busy planning the defense of Orak.”
The guard looked at him and nodded his understanding, keeping his face under control. Returning inside, Esk kar closed the door and dropped the wooden bar across the entrance. Trella was clearing the table of the water cups, but looked up at the sound, put down the cups, and walked into his arms.
“You should be meeting with Nicar and with the tradesmen,” she put her arms around him and her head against his chest. “Master Corio seems to be the most important person in Orak right now, and we should …”
“Be quiet, girl,” his voice already hoarse with passion, “or I’ll sell you to Corio. I’m sure he could keep you busy building things.” His hands slid under her dress. Feeling her softness, he marveled once again at how she roused him.
“Maybe I would like him better. He might not keep me up all night.”
Her hands were under his tunic now, making him even more excited.
He lifted the dress up over her head and tossed it toward the table, then picked her up, carried her to the bed, and deposited her gently on the blankets. He stood over her looking down at her naked body as he removed his tunic. She moved sinuously in the bed, looking up at him and arching her back a little in anticipated pleasure. Remembering his promise from last night, he vowed to keep better control of his desire.
“Trella, my woman, you belong to me, and with me you will stay.” He sat down on the bed and began kissing her breasts, and then he had no more words in his head for anyone or anything.
7
