by Bob Blink
“I’d like that,” he said earnestly, and was rewarded with another of her brief smiles.
“Can you do that same trick with lead?”
“You want cups made of lead?”
“No, I need a bunch of lead balls, maybe thirty of them, exactly one-half inch in diameter.”
Shyar nodded minutely, and walked over to where Buris kept supplies of scrap metal. She pulled out a couple of lead ingots, and playing a variation of the same procedure, soon handed over fifty of the perfectly formed balls.
“That’s incredible,” Jolan said. He’d been watching her at work, but had been unable to determine how she had managed the task, which told him she was using skills that were beyond his current level. “What level do I need to be to do that?” he asked.
“A five,” she responded. “It’s easier when you are a six.”
Damn, he thought. Did that mean she was a six already.
“I’ve got to go now,” she said suddenly.
“Wait,” Jolan said, hating to have her leave. “I thought you wanted to know what we’re doing?”
“We can talk later. I have to go now.”
As smoothly and quietly as she had arrived, Shyar suddenly slipped out of sight down one of the equipment aisles leaving Jolan alone with the results of her magic.
Chapter 54
Jolan was on his way back to his quarters after yet another demonstration of the airwrap spell he had developed the previous week. The instuctor-mages were fascinated by the spell. It was effective and non lethal, and they were enthralled since Jolan seemed to have improvised the spell by somehow modifying an existing spell they all knew. This was especially impressive in their minds because he had still not advanced to a four that would have allowed him to read the mage language, so the creation of the new spell was done at some subconscious level.
Jolan had already noted that they didn’t seem big on creativity here. As near as he had been able to determine, the bulk of the effort was passing on known spells by one or another of the established means, and digging through scrolls that came in to see if they could find something “new” in the old writings. Experimentation and modification was simply not an approach that merited much following.
“The prince is waiting for you in the visitors room,” he was told when he walked into the dorms.
“The prince. He’s here to see me? Why didn’t he call on me to attend him?”
“He didn’t say. He asked for you, and I told him where you were. He said he would wait. I wouldn’t keep him waiting any longer if I were you.”
Jolan nodded his agreement, and changing direction he hurried down the hall where the prince waited. He’d half expected to be called by the King after the comments that had been made at the party, but he hadn’t even considered the prince. Still, the prince had been watching him closely at that meeting. He walked into the room and saw the prince looking at the paintings on the wall at the far end of the room. He must have great ears as he turned when Jolan entered the room.
“I didn’t know to expect you,” Jolan apologized. “I would have begged off from the presentation had I known.”
The prince smiled. If it weren’t for the wild look in his eyes, he would seem like the perfect soldier. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t want this meeting to become formal.”
“I. . . I guess I don’t know the proper way to address you. We don’t have royalty at home, and I’m still learning my way around.”
“I prefer to be addressed as Mojol. Nothing formal. If I one day become king, then I’ll have to accept the formality and the titles, but for now I can be myself. Especially out of the palace.”
Jolan wasn’t so sure the prince was so informal as he seemed to want Jolan to think, but clearly there was no choice but to go along.
“You wanted to talk with me. What can I help you with?”
“When you talked with my father at the King’s Ball, you were very forthcoming about the likelihood of war. I am of a similar mind, but my father doesn’t want there to be a war, and so tries to argue himself out of the possibility I fear. There have already been reports of unusual weapons being seen during some skirmishes in Kimlelm. These may or may not be related to your own concerns, but I would like to go there and check out the stories myself. It would have the added advantage of being on hand should further hostilities develop.”
“You are going now. It is still winter. That must make the trip very difficult.”
“Alas, Father has forbidden the trip at all. I am left to ponder what I can do here to prepare for the war I am certain is coming.”
“How can I be of help?”
“You talked of the weapons that the wizards of Ale’ald might be building. Is it possible to start our own development of such devices?”
The question brought them very abruptly to a point that skirted Jolan’s own project to develop a firearm, but he was not sure just what it was wise to reveal. He didn’t understand the politics here, nor how it would be received if it was discovered he had been working quietly to develop a weapon on his own. Before telling the prince, he needed to discuss the matter with Asari, Buris, and Shyar. He would like to ask some of his student-mage friends, but that would mean revealing the project to even more people.
He had considered the possibility. “It would require a serious effort because it was an area in which he had limited knowledge. He could suggest concepts, but the specific details would need people more knowledgable about your technology and manufacturing capabilities.”
The prince nodded. “I thought you might be able to help. I would ask that you put in some thought, and in a week, two at most, you request a meeting with me. I would like to see what you have thought of. Maybe we can start preparing.”
“What about your father?”
“I’ll have to decide what he should know after I see your ideas.”
Great. Now he was involved in something that might progress without the knowledge or explicit approval of the King. Wasn’t that treason?
A bit later the same day he spent a couple of hours with Shyar down in the lab going over the details of the gun design. She was eager to participate in the scheduled testing, and hoped to be a part of the refinement phase of the project. Jolan wasn’t sure why she was so eager to participate, but he was really glad of her interest. He realized he was more than a little attracted to her and looked to the project as a way to spend many future hours with her.
Chapter 55
Two weeks had passed since the unfortunate failure of the preliminary barrels before replacements became available. Asari and Jolan had been out enjoying the first hints of the early spring that Nerila had predicted. They gathered up the various parts of the guns and retired back to the inn where Asari lived to work on the assembly. They had picked up the new barrels the day before and had immediately set to testing since no further progress could be made if they didn’t hold up. Happily, the preliminary testing seemed to indicate the thicker metal at the chamber end had worked as hoped, and they were able to set off charges without getting a single damaged barrel.
Jolan was now examining one of the actions and noting how the indent in the tip of the hammer fit smoothly over the percussion cap. The design provided protection to the shooter against flash from the detonation as well as from bits of primer that could split and fly off as the primer exploded. It also helped to direct the flash in the desired direction down the small tube into the base of the barrel.
“How does this look?” Asari asked as he passed over an assembly he had just completed that had one of the actions screwed in place to the barrel itself.
Jolan accepted the assembly and marveled at how well the parts seemed to fit together. He pulled back on the large hammer and heard the two distinct satisfying clicks as the hammer locked back in place for firing. He didn’t know how original designs had worked, but in addition to the fired position he’d wanted one position that held the hammer slightly back from the primer and a second position that was t
he ready to fire. While they had two very different looking designs, both watchmakers had come up with assemblies that met his criteria. Both also sported adjustable length linkages between the hammers and the triggers, since they hadn’t known what length they would need until the barrels were finally completed. It had added a bit of complexity, and could eventually be designed out, but had been useful at this stage.
He slipped one of the small aluminum primers onto the nipple, which fit snugly and stayed in place when he inverted the barrel to check, then pointed the barrel at the window and pulled the trigger. With a satisfying snap, the hammer dropped smartly onto the nipple. There was no explosion because he didn’t yet have any caps that had been charged with the fulminate of mercury. Buris and Shyar had finally worked out a way to make a paste that would dry out and leave the little caps charged with a layer that filled about one-fourth of the little cups with primer material. He promised to have a batch completed this week, so the real testing would be possible the following week.
“Better than I’d hoped, to be honest,” he replied. He pulled back the hammer and examined the mashed percussion cap. It had been crushed by the force of the hammer dropping, and was split in two places, allowing it to drop away easily. Jolan was still a bit concerned about how much splatter they might get under actual firing, and long term they might need to develop an alloy that was a bit stronger, but these looked like they would work for now.
“Let’s get the others assembled and then see what we can do for the stocks.”
The stocks they were planning on putting the actions into were nothing like one would expect to see on a functioning rifle. These were rectangular blocks of hardwood they would be reaming out to fit the barreled actions. They would then strap the actions in place. It would not be a design that could be fired from the shoulder. The ungainly blocks of wood would provide a firm mounting surface to the test table they planned on using, since the guns would be fired remotely. Jolan would use his magic abilities to trip the triggers and they would see how the guns held up under a series of firings with actual loads and real bullets. They also intended to mount the rifles securely enough that they could see what kind of accuracy was being achieved by seeing how a series of five to ten shots from each would print on the “targets” they had created. Initial testing was planned for one hundred feet. It was going to be an interesting session next week.
* * * *
Jolan had smuggled one of the disassembled muskets back to the dorms and had taken it to Buris’ shop so he and Shyar could examine it in detail. They had been working together on the primer material, and although he hadn’t yet told Asari for fear of the reaction he might get, he had invited Shyar to participate in the test firings this week.
“It’s going to be pretty heavy,” Buris had remarked. “After looking at your little gun, I expected this to be a bit sleeker.”
‘It’s a matter of the steel that is available. We had to beef it up for strength. It’s one of those areas where Cheurt could have a real advantage. He could bring back the process for building far better steel than is currently available on Gaea. That would allow lighter and stronger barrels.”
“I’ll bet I could magically enhance the material to make it stronger,” Shyar had observed. “Let me think on it. Maybe for the new ones we can try.”
Now, as Jolan rode toward the testing field outside of town in the wagon loaded with all of their supplies, including the heavy table the rifles would be strapped to, he started to get nervous. He already knew that Asari would be displeased when Shyar appeared at the testing grounds, the question was going to be to what degree. Would he act as he had with Ronoran some weeks before, or would, as Jolan hoped, the prospects of having a major success in their effort temper his animosity towards Jolan’s new friends. Jolan had warned Shyar about the problem, explaining how Asari had been suddenly left on his own when Jolan had been admitted into the college.
They set up the table, and then placed the heavy muskets in place, strapping each one in place and weighing it down with sand bags. Then they set up the targets, marking the locations using the crude sights of the guns. The targets were large, almost a yard square, but they didn’t know where the guns were going to hit, and they didn’t want to miss due to their very limited supplies. The size of the group was what mattered today, not the actual point of impact.
The powder would be measured out using a special cup they had made that threw a charge determined by earlier testing, and the bag of heavy balls was on the table and ready. All they needed now was for Shyar to arrive with the percussion caps. Jolan had used the percussion caps as a thinly veiled excuse for Shyar to arrive, telling Asari they had been in the final stages of drying when he left this morning. They were making final adjustments and checks when Shyar rode up on her horse ten minutes later.
Jolan knew Asari was aware that something was up the minute he saw Shyar.
“Shyar, this is my friend and partner Asari,” Jolan said as he prayed for a smooth greeting.”
Shyar smiled and held out her hand.
Asari only nodded at her, and then turned to Jolan and said. “Why’d you invite her? This is supposed to be our project.”
“Come on Asari. I’ve told you how much help she and Buris have been. Without their help we probably wouldn’t be this far. She wants to see the test, and has some ideas how we might be able to improve the steels. Not only is she a friend of mine, but she can really help us along.”
“Maybe you and her should run the test. I can just go back to the inn and you can let me know how things turn out. Doesn’t seem like you really need my help after all.”
Jolan had had about all he could take from Asari and was about to let him know when Shyar handed over the percussion caps, looked at Jolan with sadness in her eyes, and turned abruptly and hurriedly left.
Jolan didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to turn away from Asari in fear it might open a rift that would be beyond repair, although at the moment he was so angry it didn’t seem like it should matter. At the same time, he felt badly for Shyar, and feared this could damage or end a relationship he hoped to pursue.
“Shyar, wait,” he yelled and started her way.
She was already on her horse. She turned and looked his way, shook her head, and galloped off before he could even come near.
“God damn it Asari! What’s the matter with you?” Jolan said hotly. “It’s not like you to treat people that way. She is a friend of mine and she has been an incredible help. You’ve probably chased her away for good.”
Asari shrugged. “So your girlfriend is a little upset. She’s not needed here. I think you just wanted to show her off.”
“She’s not a girlfriend. She’s a friend.”
“Yeah, right. Are we going to do this or not?”
Jolan considered dropping the whole thing right there, but he suspected that would be the first step down a road he really didn’t want to walk. He forced himself to push back his anger afraid he’d say or do something that he’d be unable to take back. Reluctantly he set about loading the guns, wondering how he would handle Shyar when he returned to the dorms.
They fired five rounds through each of the four guns, but even before they finished the series it was obvious the accuracy was abysmal. When they completed the series, they walked down together and looked carefully at the targets. The best “group” was just under a foot at one hundred feet. That would work out to about a yard at one hundred yards, which was the sight-in range Jolan had used for his hunting rifle back home.
“I can do better than that with my bow any day,” Asari observed, his sour mood little changed from earlier.
“Let’s put up another set of targets, check to make sure the guns aren’t shifting, and try again,” Jolan suggested, but he already suspected what they would find.
Jolan was loading the third gun when he noticed the crack. A small hairline crack had developed back near the threaded section. A careful check showed an even larger crac
k on the fourth gun, and when they pulled the barrels from the wooden stocks, they found a crack on the undersides of three of the guns. None were without cracks in some location, and it was clear that in a few more shots, they would give way. The design was not safe for use.
“Stupid damn idea,” Asari said as they loaded the guns back onto the wagon. “We’ve spent almost fifteen golds and the entire winter and the Dragon cursed things are just so much junk.”
“Okay, so it’s another setback. I told you when we started this was going to take some time.”
“I think it’s something you thought up to keep me distracted,” Asari accused.
Jolan admitted to himself that had been much of the original motivation, but the project had evolved and now he very much wanted to make it work. He wanted a working rifle, and he suspected the kingdom was going to need them sooner than anyone thought. Besides, he had to address the issue with the prince before much longer. Only the fact the prince had been sent somewhere by the King had given him a bit of breathing room so far.
“I’d like the pistol back,” Asari said suddenly. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve got no idea what Cheurt is up to, and we have no chance of learning while we’re sitting around here.”
“We can’t go after Cheurt. You told me why yourself when we first met. Knowing what I do now I realize you understated the problems. We wouldn’t have a chance of taking him down. You know that!”