Empress of Fire

Chapter 101: Generational Power

I determined light was a wave through an exhaustive search of every natural phenomenon that could be defined with runes. It wasn't heat, force, or negative energy. Nor was it push-pull expansion or contraction. It wasn't a substance like metal, iron, wood, air, stone, or glass; eventually, I stumbled into the answer by imagining light as waves of energy. I only knew how to define a wave because of the tool. It showed how necessary it was for me to gain access to more magical items. Already, I was in the middle of designing a way to absorb energy from light.

Recruiting continued without my intervention. According to Corina's and Anicia’s last report, we acquired ten people rather quickly. Two were actually Cramer’s men. Nihl, a young man with dark brown, nearly black hair and bright blue eyes, and Leaf, an older, grey-bearded fighter. He was past his prime but had decades of experience in the wastes. Ben was already training with them in the rear of the house. Next was Nubin, a large bald man who was a cartwright of passable skill. Along with him were his family: his wife and two sons.

Others included Meave, the prospective healer; a cousin of hers, Hugh, who apparently was one of the prisoners; and the last two were a mother and daughter. Familial love was an easy way to guarantee they would behave. At Anicia’s recommendation, they would take the roles of cooks, allowing Julia and Edine to serve me exclusively.

This arrangement pleased both Julia and Michael, since it meant less work, better pay, and more privilege. The last was a random orphan called Bean, of all things. He was a tall, lanky boy who looked half-starved and was bronzed so severely by the sun that his skin was nearly the color of caff. How he ended up a prisoner, I didn't know or care.

I grew tired of the tearful expressions of gratitude and foisted the responsibility of arranging their roles to Anicia. Tin, another orphan from the town, Ben, Nihl, Leaf, Bean, and Hugh would make up the beginnings of a melee fighting force. Finding no fault in her reasoning, I accepted every appointment.

More people meant more carriages, water generators, and horses. We had ten carriages in total. Two carried food exclusively, and another carried magical tools. I bought a large covered transport for people and another for camping supplies, an entire carriage dedicated to horse feed, and a comfortable carriage for me. The rest were for a combination of supplies, tools, and weapons.

Of course, everyone received a commission of thirty eagles. Deciding to establish a hierarchy, I doubled the pay for everyone I recruited before reaching Cramer’s mine. With four water generators per cart, I did not worry that we would encounter water problems in the wastes. The last indulgence was a carriage dedicated to carrying a bath and other miscellaneous pieces of luxury, such as the pieces necessary to assemble my tent, which was spacious enough to fit a dining table, chairs, my bath, and even a small bed.

Anyone not in a family, such as Ben, would have to share comparatively smaller and less luxurious tents. Though they still had the adjustable air warmers, a magical lantern, and decent bedding. To maintain this level of comfort required large amounts of coin. At least four royals per month. Fortunately, coin was as easy for me to make as breathing. Still, sixteen people in a few months was a decent start. The real recruiting, however, would start once I reached the capital of Derk.

~

I walked with Cramer through the town; Ben followed closely behind, pretending to be imposing in his armor.

“You’ve been on quite the stint of recruitment,” Cramer said without any particular inflection.

“I need people; I certainly won't be slumming it in the wastes like a common peasant,” I said. "How are the mining operations?"

“It’s starting. You’ll see soon enough. I’m eager to hear your opinion.”

“Eager to see how I can improve it with magic, you mean."

“You've seen right through me, my lady. But I don't have the coin to pay you with at the moment. When we reach the capital, however, I’d like to pick your brain on the subject."

“That would require a very in-depth study into how you mine for emeralds. Most likely, I would take weeks developing a system.”

“In other words, the price would be significant.”

“Is there a limit?”

“To my magic?” I asked, and Cramer nodded.

“The only limit is skill, imagination, and coin.”

~

We passed the simple fortification; inside the wooden palisade was the entrance to the mine itself, a cave that led further down into a system of tunnels. Men of all ages streamed out of the mine, some pushing wheelbarrows while others carried wide crates.

“It’s a simple enough operation; one team is responsible for digging deeper into the mine. While others are surveyors, they are chiefly responsible for finding emerald veins. Once a vein is found. Small picks and more skilled workers are used to extract the gems. Then they are cleaned and prepped for transport, usually to a city where my jewelers can cut and make them into proper products."

As Cramer explained, pointing to the differing buildings, my mind was hard at work forming solutions to the mining problem. Finding the veins would be rather simple magic. I could create tools that would blast away rock rapidly, along with magical wheelbarrows and boxes to decrease the weight of the contents, in order to improve productivity.

Most men were sweating like dogs and looked to be on the verge of collapse. However, it seemed Cramer had the common sense to make improvements to their lives. To the left were three water generators, all arranged on a table. These generators were made of simple iron and copper. Every time a man dropped off his load, he would walk over to the water generator, fill a wooden tankard with water, drink, and continue his work. The generators were being guarded by two men carrying halberds.

Quite a few of the workers were young men not even old enough to have beards. Actual children weren't spared from the labor. I couldn't figure out who looked more pathetic, the boys or the old men who seemed close to collapse. I watched for some time as Cramer walked about like a king surveying his soldiers, shouting orders and berating workers who weren't up to his standards.

There was a scream from within the mine, high-pitched and filled with pain. Out came a brown-haired child with a horrifically mangled leg. It didn't take much deduction to conclude that some large stone crushed it. They rushed him to a small, decrepit wooden building near the east end of the mine.

“That one’s not going to last long,” Cramer said.

“Do injuries like that happen often?”

“It depends. It could be once a day or once a month; it doesn't really matter. Out in the wastes, there isn't much in terms of opportunity, so I always have fresh bodies.”

“It is rather sweltering. Inside the mine must be hell.” I mused

Cramer laughed. "This is but a light roasting. Deeper into the wastes is true suffering. The air is drier and hotter, and water is even harder to find. You go days without seeing a single living creature. You’ll see for yourself soon enough. It’s faster to travel directly through, and with those water generators, there shouldn't be that much of a problem, right?"

I did some quick mental math, then spoke. “Accounting for the horses and people, that’s roughly five hundred gallons of water a day, assuming a gallon per person and around twenty for the horses. With fifty water generators, we'll produce between eight hundred and sixteen hundred gallons a day.”

“Are you quite sure?”

“Yes, I’ve been monitoring water generation as we traveled. The operation of the generators is independent of me. If we ever fall below this, I can increase the generation at the expense of fuel, and the air around us getting uncomfortably cold.”

Shrugging, Cramer said. “I’ll take your word for it, Lady Magus. Though you are overestimating how much water we need. My sand steeds only need half the water of a normal horse, and I doubt most people will drink a whole gallon of water.”

“I like to account for the absolute worst-case scenario and double everything again just on principle.”

“I cannot argue with your logic.”

I decided to change the subject. “Tell me, Ser Cramer, how good is your ability to gather information?”

With a raised eyebrow, the portly man said. “I'm not an information broker, but I have some sources.”

“I’m looking for information on a Sir Indal Summerson.”

"I can't say I've ever heard of them.” Then he rubbed his chin. “But Summerson…I feel like I've heard that name before.”

“Minilan Summerson is his grandfather, at least according to my information. It could be false for all I know. He may have been a minor lord a few decades ago who fled to the empire.”

“In that case. It shouldn't be too hard to find out that information.” Then he smirked. “I’ll do this task free of charge.”

I didn't try to hide my dubious expression.

“I may be a man in constant pursuit of capital, but I know my limits.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “I would be grateful if you could be subtle about it.”

“My dear, I am the very image of subtlety.” Looking at his garish teal ensemble, I briefly wondered if I had made a mistake.

~

Anicia, Corina, and I stood on my balcony watching as Cramer and the magistrate, a corpulent man in his middle age, dressed in garish purple, examine the prisoners. It took three days before they were given any water, though I was reasonably sure it was avoiding death and not pity that was the excuse for Cramer’s mercy. There was no begging or pleading anymore, just despair and silent acceptance of their fate.

Anicia walked away and returned to a book she was reading, while Corina remained, tried, and failed to hide her pity.

“We can take more,” Corina said.

“Why should we, Corina? More mouths to feed, more people to manage, and who knows what kind of resentment they would have in their hearts.”

“The women and girls, at least."

“Is the fairer sex incapable of resentment? We came into this town with six people; now we’ve more than doubled our number. Some of them have children; would they be willing to abandon them? And no, before you even ask, I will not take a gaggle of children. Edine is an exception; with her comes Julia and Michael, who have proven to be diligent and truthful servants.”

Corina remained silent, contemplating how to convince me, no doubt. In truth, I wanted her to; there were even a few good reasons she could use.

Anicia spoke, breaking the silence that hung in the air for over a minute. “Unattached women, between marriageable age and their middle years.”

“That’s roughly 12 women,” Corina mumbled.

“And what would they do?” I asked. “Everyone must have a role. I won't fill my ranks with freeloaders recruited through pity.”

I remained quiet, not giving her any solutions to the problem. If she didn't find one herself, then those women would be left to their fates.

“You’re going to make this into a fighting force at some point, and your crossbows don't need a strong sword arm.”

My mind quickly found every problem in this plan within moments. In any other situation, I would have rejected it, but Corina was acting on her own will, and if she actually succeeded in this venture, it would only benefit me. Even if she failed, it would be better if she failed early and learned from it.

"Very well, Corina, you ask, and my trusted right hand, you will have it. But you will be responsible for them. Their food, training, equipment, and, most importantly, discipline and loyalty. If they fail in their loyalty or you are incapable of forging these desperate women into something useful, then it will be your responsibility to dispose of them. You are free to speak to Cramer on my behalf."

Corina looked like she wanted to save more of them, but I had to have limits. Seeing my unrelenting gaze, she released her breath and said, “My thanks, my lady.”

“You are most welcome. I suggest you hurry before they are loaded onto those transports.”

With a bow, she turned and left.

“You wanted her to convince you,” Anicia said as soon as the door was closed.

“I wanted her to think for herself. This is good for her."

“It gives Mother a purpose, and if she succeeds, you get more bodies to throw at our enemies. Was this always your plan?”

“Not quite. Corina has little ambition and desire beyond caring for you. But she has a guilty conscience, which I largely lack.”

“Is the lack of conscience a flaw you see in yourself?”

I watched, from the balcony, as Corina approached the bound peasants; quite a few perked up at her approach.

“It isn't, but Baron Redstone taught me something a long time ago. Different perspectives are invaluable.”

“But did you want her to do that or not?”

“It would be beneficial, so I approved it. That is it, essentially. She could have convinced me to do it for the purposes of increasing my reputation or to hire them as servants, since I intend to make myself a noblewoman. But beyond that, Anicia, she's showing initiative, something I thought she would suppress for much longer.”

“What if she fails?”

“Then she fails and learns from it. I am not so demanding as to desire instant perfection."

I watched as Corina talked to Cramer for long moments. Eventually, he looked up at me, though he stood a few dozen paces beyond my balcony; I could see the confusion on his face. With a nod of approval from me and a transfer of coin to the magistrate, the matter was settled. Thirteen women were untied; some cried, and others knelt at Corina’s feet in gratitude. The begging continued; some women had children, and others were older than my requirements. And I couldn't care less about the men and boys.

Corina looked toward the balcony where I was watching her. I shook my head, refusing to indulge her further. With a sigh, she nodded and led the released women away. It was amusing that not a single one of the women looked back at their fellow prisoners as they escaped their fates.

“And that brings our number to thirty-nine. I’m going to lean on you now, Anicia. More people means more opportunities for betrayal.”

“And a greater chance your magic items could be stolen.”

“That doesn't matter very much. So long as I have my reservoir, the only thing they’ll walk away with is interesting-looking scrap metal.” I said, then I added, just for Anicia, "Even if they steal my reservoir, I can, with a small expression of my will, permanently deactivate every magical item. For now, arrange everything for me. I need to focus on magic. There’s something I need to complete before we leave the town."

“I’ll sort out the other carriages and supplies. And of course, the people," Anicia said. “Cramer was rather generous with his grudges. To think he allowed us to take so many of his prisoners.”

“In the end, he’s a creature driven by profit. There is little else to him."

“What about noble lords and such?”

“If they are of sound mind, then when they look upon me, they will see power.”

“But you refused to sell weapons?” Anicia asked.

“Power comes in many forms. Think, Anicia, these desert kings… What could I offer that would completely alter the balance of power within this desert?”

“Something only you can offer…magic, of course…but not a weapon.” She mumbled. “It’s probably not a trinket either, knowing you. The water generator is the only thing, but…No, there’s something more I'm missing.”

It wasn't close to the only thing, but seeing that she was close to an answer, I raised a hand to end her contemplation. “Good enough. You are on the right track; water is a precious resource. People in these lands invest massive amounts of time, effort, blood, and coin into securing it. According to Cramer, in the cities, it is an even greater problem. Too long without rain, and the wells run dry. This has been the state of living within the wastes for centuries."

Walking over to a desk, I fetched a scrap of parchment. I began to draw a simple cylinder standing on a stone substructure, elevating it 30 feet above ground, using a bit of coal.

“Water goes in this large container?” She asked.

“Yes, but that is the beginning. Let's imagine that this container is 25 feet tall and 20 feet wide. That’s roughly sixty thousand gallons of water. Now, imagine a tube connected to the base of this tower, and this tube branches off underground through a city. We make sure that there is a public pipe on every street and neighborhood in this city so anyone can get clean water to drink at any time, in any amount they desire.

Now, what if this city had two or three of these containers? What if some tubes lead to farmland or bathhouses? A single water generator produces, in the worst-case conditions, 16 gallons of water a day. That means we only need the equivalent of 3700 water generators to fuel an entire city. But we can be reasonably assured that no city was built within the worst regions of the wastes, so we can halve that number. Also, we produce more water at night, and the usage of water isn't consistent, so we can probably cut that number in half again. In this case, I only need to build one massive generator for water."

Anicia stared wide-eyed at the crude drawing. “I see now, a desert king with any sense would sell his entire family to have you build this system within his city. Commerce, agriculture, the population’s health, trade, and general happiness...people would flock to this city to live just for a better quality of life, especially the nobility. Cramer himself left Derk because of the heat, but now…"

“Think even deeper. What would be the price of such a system?” I asked her.

“I…I can't even begin to guess. It’s practically priceless. But now I see why you don't care about Cramer's generous commission. This isn't a trinket he can sell. This is power, generational power far beyond what weapons could provide. But who will you offer this to?”

I smirked, revealing that I desired her to find the answer herself. Anicia bolted to her feet, ran over to the chest, and removed a map, no doubt for the entire continent. “Of course…” Her finger traced lines along the map, and the muttering continued. “These three… Ahh, I see how they could be used. But would they really support you?” I turned away from her, watching as the rest of the wailing prisoners were dragged away, rather pleased that she understood a part of what I planned to do.

“When the time comes, and I stake my claim. They will not have a choice."