by Eric Vall
“What took you so long?” I asked with a grin. “We’re ready to go.”
“We woulda been here hours ago, but when we were halfway to Serin, we met up with those gals of yours in their train on the track,” Haragh replied and cocked a hairy eyebrow in my direction. “Now, can you guess the problem, bud?”
“You were on the same track, and you couldn’t get around each other?” I groaned.
The half-ogre nodded. “Yup. I had to pull their car off the track, roll it in the grass past my two cars, and get on the track on the other side.”
“Shit, you’re strong,” I gasped. “Even empty, those cars weigh tons.”
“Well, I didn’t say I did it fast or without a lot of sweat,” Haragh chuckled, pride in his eyes.
“Okay, there’s a simpler way, so simple I should have thought of it while I was building it,” I replied. “Let me show you.”
I sent out a pulse of my power, pulled four tracks out of Haragh’s car, and laid them out parallel to the last of the tracks I had lain last night. With another wave of energy, I gently bent the ones on the ends so that they formed a curve and met the track they were next to.
I turned to the pudgy brunette Ignis Mage, “Honey, could you give me a little heat?”
On cue, she blushed furiously but nodded. Then she held out her hands and produced a ball of fire.
“I need you to soften up the iron, so I can work with it,” I explained as I pointed to the intersection of tracks.
The girl sent forth an arc of blue flame onto the tracks, and when I felt it was soft enough, I used my own power to break the tracks and create a joint secured by a hinge to connect them together. When I was satisfied with the mechanism, I sent a pulse of power into the car and pulled out a single metal tie.
“This one I need you to melt down completely, darlin’,” I said with a wink.
The Ignis Mage concentrated and pushed her flame so that it completely engulfed the tie as I held it aloft. In took a few minutes for the metal to completely liquefy so I could work with it.
I needed a couple parts to fit together. A three-foot long lever, a five-foot long bar, an axle pin, and a frame with two notches, which fit with a similar groove on the lever. I used my Terra magecraft to dig up a small trench under the hinged intersection, and I floated the bar into it. Then I connected the bar to the hinge, and with another small push of power, I buried it in the trench. Once it all fitted together, I walked over and threw the switch in my hand.
“This is called a railroad switch,” I explained. “We need to build these into the track every few miles, and that will solve the problem of how to get trains to pass each other if you don’t have a mighty half-ogre on hand to move things around with his hands.”
“All right, I get it.” Haragh nodded as he took it in. “I can create some molds at the factory and modify the tracks you’ve built already. Probably not as fast as you can, but you got other stuff to do, I guess.”
“Thanks, dude.” I grinned.
The half-ogre was right. I did have a lot to do. The first thing was to unload one of the cars’ cargo into the main locomotive. I just had to remember to go slow, stack by stack, and not get impatient and use up all my energy before the sun was up on a new day. It took a few hours, but at least I was ready to go, and not go to sleep, when it was all loaded up.
Thanks to the railroad switch, it was easy to detach the second full car and bring it around to attach it to the locomotive. We were fully stocked and ready for sixty more miles of track building.
“See you with the next load!” I shouted to Haragh as he left for his empty car facing east, and I headed toward my two full cars facing west.
“Sorry to disappoint ya, but I think your half-elf is probably loading up at Magehill as we speak, so she’ll be the one you’ll see next,” the half-ogre Terra Mage guffawed. “You’ll have to wait ta see my pretty face for another two days.”
“You’re breaking my heart, big guy,” I laughed and gave him a wave as I got aboard the train.
Bagnera shook her head, but her gray-blue eyes were amused as she started the engines and we continued the journey west.
It was afternoon when we had all but emptied out all the tracks and ties in the locomotive. It was time to stop so I could refill our load from the car we pulled behind. We had reached the river Asris and could make out the skyline of Westrock on the other side. Bagnera was at the engine, and I knew I had to give her plenty of warning to cut the engine.
“Full stop!” I shouted.
I threw out a half mile’s worth of tracks as Bagnera pulled back the spark she fed to the engine. The locomotive rumbled along slower and slower before it came to a rest.
First, I jumped out and began the slow process of floating the tracks and ties out of the car and into the locomotive. I reminded myself that as close to Westrock as we were, this was not the time to rush.
Then I turned to the Terra Mages on the train.
“Come with me,” I said. “We need to build a bridge.”
The eastern bank of the river where we were had a gentle, rolling terrain with a twenty-foot drop, while the western bank was a cliff face fifty feet high. I walked to the river’s edge so I could survey the situation. It was about half a mile across the water at this point in the Asris. Fortunately, there was a lot of rock to work with.
I squatted down and put my hand to the ground, and the other Terra Mages did the same. Together, our power linked to one another and to the rocks and stones around us until it spread out under the water to the stone on the other side. I guided our collective focus to the cliff that faced us, and then we began to work it like clay. The ground squashed down and flattened as we pulled the rock toward us until it connected to the bank on our side of the river.
“That wasn’t hard,” Pindor said with a grin beside me.
“We’re not done yet,” I grunted. “We need more structural support at this distance.”
As operations manager at a steel company, I had seen plenty of bridges built and badly constructed bridges repaired. I brought focus to the group mind down into the river itself. We delved down through the silt and mud and into a layer of sandstone. It was eroded and weak, so we pushed even further down until we encountered a bed of basalt, the remnants of an ancient volcano flow. That was what we needed.
The river below us began to bubble as we pulled up the rock. Wall after wall emerged from the surface, twenty of them in total, exactly placed every one hundred and thirty-two feet. Mud, silt, and the occasional flopping fish dropped from the surface of the walls as they rose up to meet the bridge.
With the power of our communal mind, we Terra Mages connected with the bridge and could test its integrity and strength. It was good, but I wanted it to be something that could withstand the heaviest loads and not need any repairs for generations to come. So, I redirected our focus back down into the basalt bed deep below the river.
More walls of black igneous rock burbled up from the surface in our direction, each pressed close to both sides of the supports we already had. We curved them into one another so that they met, one by one, in an arch that melded into the bridge above.
“They’re called abutments,” I explained to the mages as we released ourselves from our connection. “The stress of carrying weight isn’t top down, but along the curve of the arches and supports. In my old kingdom, there are bridges thousands of years old still being used with this kind of design.”
The six of us returned to the train, and in a few minutes, the engine roared to life. Once again, I used my power to drop tracks and ties just ahead of us as we chugged slowly along through the meadow and then across our new bridge.
The Terra Mages pushed through the rocky terrain as we neared the lights of the town of Westrock a few hours later. It was nestled in a valley between rugged hillsides where herds of sheep grazed among the vineyards. A great castle or cathedral dominated the highest hill, like a sentinel that guarded all the stone buildings with tha
tched roofs below. Though the sun had set, and the sky was gray with twilight. There was something warm and welcoming about this little town, and I felt a tired smile stretch across my face.
When we were about a hundred yards away, I signaled to Bagnera to cut the engine, and our train ground slowly to a halt. We only had about a mile left of tracks and ties, so the timing was good.
Cayla and I led the procession of seven mages, all of us with our belongings in hand, as we made our way into town. We were immediately faced with three guards in full mail. By the scars on their faces through their steel helms, they were obviously seasoned veterans, but they kept their blades sheathed and greeted us in a friendly fashion.
“Welcome, travelers,” the captain, a tall, lean man with a leathery face, said. “What brings you to Westrock?” His eyes shot over our shoulders to the train, and I could see the vast confusion in his eyes.
“We bring greetings from your sovereign King Temin,” Cayla said in her best diplomatic tone. “These are members of the Order of Elementa here to connect the kingdom through a fast transportation system called a railroad. We would request an audience with the Baron of Westrock and a representative of your merchants’ guild at their earliest convenience tomorrow morning.”
“I can bring you to them now if you’d like,” the captain suggested with a smile. “May I offer you rooms at the castle?”
“Thanks, we’ll definitely take you up on that,” I spoke up eagerly.
We had the gear to sleep rough, but I had to admit that a proper bed sounded mighty good to me. The aches in my body had gone from pain to numbness. Small wonder, when I thought back on the events of the last couple of days. The mine collapse and rescue, building the train and the Grand Station of Serin, the miles of train track from Magehill to the capitol to Westrock. If Aurora had been with me, she would have warned me that I had pushed myself too hard.
And I would have to concede that she was right because right now my legs felt like jelly, and my vision flickered every so often.
I rallied enough strength to join the rest of my party as we followed the guards up dirt roads. Bagnera thought it a good time to play tour guide.
“That pub has the most delicious mulled wine,” the white-haired Ignis Mage squealed as she pointed to a tumbledown cottage with a painted wooden sign of a beer mug.
“You must not have been here in years,” the captain corrected her with a shake of his head. “They haven’t had mulled wine in a long while.”
“Oh dear.” Bagnera’s face fell. “Did they lose the recipe?”
“No, the ingredients,” he replied with a sigh. “They couldn’t get the spices anymore. The bandits were blocking the southern trade routes for cinnamon and ginger.”
“You’ve had a lot of trouble with bandits?” I asked curiously.
“The terrain around here is ideal for them to camp and raid at their leisure,” the captain nodded grimly. “We hold our own, but it hasn’t been easy.”
“When I talk to your baron, I might have some solutions for that,” I replied with confidence.
“I can say with certainty that he’ll be eager to hear that,” the captain said.
We had arrived at the great stone door of the castle, and the guards opened it for us. For such a modest little town, it was a truly spectacular sight. Hundreds of candles in ornate chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling to lend a glow to the rose quartz and marble below. Life-sized statues of knights and nobles, both men and women, lined the sides of the great hall, which led to a grand spiral staircase.
“They’re beautiful,” Cayla gasped as we passed the statuary.
“They’re all the barons and baronesses who have reigned in Westrock,” Bagnera explained, and then she stopped in front of one. “Oh dear.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked as I joined her.
The statue, cast in white marble, was of a tall, heavily-built tank of a man with a sword in one hand and scales in the other. The sculptor had given him a handsome, noble face that conveyed wisdom and strength.
“This was the Baron of Westrock when I was here last,” the white-haired Ignis Mage said sadly before she turned to the captain. “When did Aerwin die?”
“Almost a year ago,” the captain replied with a sigh.
“I hadn’t heard,” Bagnera said, concern in her gray-blue eyes. “What is the new baron like? Does he measure up to his predecessor?”
“It is difficult for any man to follow Baron Aerwin,” the captain said with a slight smile, “but I can vouch for how hard the new baron tries.”
“Do you need to announce us or should we just go up?” asked Cayla.
“Baron Killock will only be too happy to talk. He doesn’t stand on ceremony,” he replied, and then he gestured to the half of the staircase that led down. “If you’d prefer to bathe first, the castle is built above hot springs. They’re very soothing.”
It was very tempting as sore as I was to take up that offer, but I was afraid if I let myself relax, I would be out for the night, so I shook my head reluctantly.
“Thank you for the kind offer.” Cayla smiled as if she understood my thoughts. “We should probably conduct business first, however.”
“This way then,” the captain said as he led us up the dark marble staircase.
An arched doorway at the top of the stairs led to a richly appointed chamber. A large hearth fire warmed the council room and gave a flickering light to the brightly colored tapestries that covered the walls. Each depicted an intricate scene, from a battle to a courtly romance. I looked for the baron, but no one was in the room except for us.
“I thought you said the baron was in residence,” Cayla said to the captain with a frown.
“Just a moment,” the captain replied as he pulled the helmet from his head, set it on a table, and ran his fingers through his silver hair to make himself presentable. “Baron Killock of Westrock at your service.”
I don’t know if my face gave away my surprise, but Cayla and the mages definitely looked stunned for a moment, all wide eyes and dropped jaws. The baron chuckled as he poured flagons of wine for all of us from a decanter on the table.
“I’m not sure I understand,” I said at last with a frown. “Were you in disguise as the captain of your own guard?”
“I wear many hats,” Baron Killock replied as he handed us each a goblet, “but no disguises. Depending on the occasion, I am captain of the town guard, Baron of Westrock, master of the guild of merchants, or high priest of the temple of Nemris.”
“Nemris?” I repeated, startled.
I had thought of the goddess many times over the past few days, sometimes even felt her presence, but I hadn’t seen her manifest herself since Serlo’s inn in Keld. Immediately, my mind swept back to when I first met her, in this lifetime at least, as she floated in the nothingness of the cosmos and gave me the gift to choose the path of my journey beyond my life on Earth. I didn’t need to have her in front of me to be reminded of every detail of her beautiful face and figure.
“I knew Nemris had blessed you the moment you stepped into town,” the baron said with a nod. “She isn’t a well-known goddess throughout the kingdoms, but Westrock is sacred to her. Legend has it that she crafted it in her aspect of the goddess of transition, as we are the juncture between the mountains, flatlands, and the sea. The springs below are one of her gifts to us. Like I said, they soothe both body and mind, which is only fitting for the goddess of peace.”
“Huh,” I replied as I scratched at my beard. It was a little disorienting to try and process this information after the day I’d had. I’d always known that Illaria and Cedis probably had a pantheon of deities as “gods” was always the word they used, but with everything else I was having to get used to, I didn’t give it much thought. I never imagined Nemris as one of these gods, but perhaps I should have.
“I still don’t understand why you’re filling the roles of four men,” Bagnera said and then blushed slightly and curtsied, “with all resp
ect, milord.”
“I have no aim to be a tyrant,” Baron Killock smiled wearily. “Westrock has fallen on hard times. The previous baron protected his people from the bandit raids, but it was beyond his power to do the same when we were visited by a terrible plague. It claimed his life as well as some of our most prominent leaders, and I had no choice but to take on all those responsibilities to the best of my abilities.”
“Are there no more healers in Westrock either?” asked Bagnera, stricken.
“Aye,” the baron sighed as he nodded, “but cut off as we are, it is difficult to get herbs and medicine. We were helpless to do anything but grieve as the plague took its toll, and the baron was the very last victim.”
“Was he your father?” Cayla asked gently.
“No one inherits the barony based on birthright,” Baron Killock replied as he shook his head. “The elders perform a sacred rite, and the goddess herself ordains who she deems worthy of the honor. Now, can you tell me more about this project of yours and how it will help us?”
“Well,” I said and took a long breath. Even without my physical exhaustion, it was always hard to explain the concept to someone who didn’t have the twenty-first century Earth background to grasp, “just imagine an indestructible caravan that comes through a couple times a week. It delivers and picks up goods and soldiers, whatever you need or need to sell. Say, spices for your tavern’s mulled wine or medical herbs for your healers.”
“What do you need from me to make this happen?” the baron asked, and I could see the eager, relieved light in his eyes.
“Just a place in or near town to build a depot,” I replied, grateful that he seemed to be on board. “Also, with your permission, we Terra Mages can create a stone wall around Westrock which will at least help protect you in bandit raids.”
“Nemris certainly sent you to us, that much is clear,” Baron Killock said as a wide smile broke across his tan face. “When would you want to start?”