The Captive

by Paul Lauritsen

  “Still,” he murmured to Cevet, “I don’t want you getting involved again. The Masks specifically singled you out as a target. If you are even suspected of interfering again, I’m not sure we will be able to keep you safe from them.”

  “I know the risks. I’m willing to take them.”

  “Why?” Relam demanded. “Cevet, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you, and you want to throw it away hunting for the Masks? When you’re not even trained as a spy?”

  “You don’t understand,” Cevet snapped. “They were part of what my father did. They backed him, helped him and D’Arnlo launch their little uprising. As far as I’m concerned, their whole organization has to be brought down.”

  “Yes, but does it have to be by you?”

  “I would like it to be,” Cevet murmured. “Or, at least, I would like to help. I don’t like letting other people clean up my messes for me. It’s not my way.”

  “It’s not mine, either,” Relam assured him. “But we don’t always get what we want. Let Narin handle this for now, Cevet. If he turns something up, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “After you and Oreius,” Cevet countered.

  “Probably,” Relam admitted. “But, can you blame us? Oreius is just as critical to this effort as Narin is.”

  “Sir,” Galen called from behind them, “We’re approaching the new sector.”

  Relam slowed and turned left, off of the main road and onto a wide thoroughfare that had not existed a few months ago. “This is much better,” he observed, looking around. “Now, time to be seen serving the people.” He pushed back the hood of his cloak, revealing his face and the Sthan crown. Then, he marched along the new road, towards a plaza that stood a little removed from the main road to Etares’ west gate.

  As they moved along the side road, Relam slowed to inspect the new buildings that reared up to either side. They were taller than the previous structures had been, but these were solid, sturdy, and reliable. They were also spaced better, not built one on top of the other with the outer walls touching. Rotting and warped wood was replaced by brick and stone, patched and leaky roofs replaced by tight patterns of slate and tiles that kept the weather out.

  “Not bad,” Cevet observed. “I haven’t been in this area since the project was started. How many of these buildings are there?”

  “A lot,” Relam replied. “This, and the cleaning of the river, are the two areas where we have made the most progress. They’re linked in some ways – we’re not throwing all of our trash from the west side straight into the Furnier anymore.”

  They reached the plaza and found a sort of command post set up there, with several flimsy structures sheltering a few tables and chairs. Relam led the others towards the largest one, looking around curiously. Harried men and woman in thick cloaks were running back and forth between the shelters, many of them carrying rolls of parchment. The tables each of the structures sheltered were covered with even more parchment.

  The young king reached the central tent and stopped just beyond its boundaries, waiting to be noticed. An older man and two younger men with muscular builds were hunched over some sort of drawing, the old man muttering to himself.

  “Ah!” he cried. “I have found it. See here? It needs to match this angle, then your measurements should line up.”

  “That’s what I told you,” one of the young men growled, glaring at his partner. “This whole mess could have been avoided if you could just read the drawings properly.”

  “It’s so small though!” the other man protested. “And my eyes are bad. How am I supposed to – ?”

  “Perhaps you should trust those who can read the drawings better,” the older man replied calmly. “Now, back to work. These shelters won’t build themselves and we need as many as possible before winter really sets in. The ice and snow are here, but we won’t see the worst of it for a couple more weeks.”

  The two younger men muttered in agreement and turned to leave the tent, still studying their drawing. By chance, their path took them towards Relam and his guards. The nearest builder glanced up at Relam as he passed by, frowning.

  “Who are . . .”

  His voice trailed off and his eyes widened as he noticed the crown on Relam’s head. The builder stopped in his tracks and nudged his companion sharply. The other builder stopped as well, brow furrowed with irritation, then his jaw dropped and they both stood, motionless.

  “Good morning,” Relam said pleasantly. “How goes the project?”

  One of the builders made a strangled sort of choking noise. The other shook his head in disbelief.

  “Ah, your majesty!”

  Relam turned and saw the older man advancing on them. “Welcome, welcome. I’m so glad you could come and inspect our progress.”

  “The honor is all mine,” Relam replied easily, reaching out to shake hands with the other man. “I brought one of my regents, Cevet along as well. I hope you don’t mind. He’s always been curious about construction and he hasn’t seen how this project is going yet, so I – ”

  “Not a problem at all,” the old man assured them. “I am Brund, master architect,” he said, introducing himself to Relam’s guards and Cevet. Relam himself already vaguely knew the man from meetings in the past. The two younger builders were still standing at the edge of the tent, dumbfounded. When Brund had finished shaking hands all around, he glanced back at the builders and cocked his head.

  “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s show his majesty what we’ve been up to these past months.”

  The builders exchanged nervous glances. “Now, Brund?” one asked finally. “I mean, we’re a little behind schedule and our most recent building is still in its early stages.”

  “It’s not much to look at,” the other builder agreed apologetically.

  “Not to worry,” Relam replied, “I’ve been impressed with your work so far. The buildings between here and the main road are a significant improvement over what we used to have.”

  “Yes,” Brund agreed, leading the king from the tent and across the plaza, the two younger builders trailing behind. “The original buildings were . . . well, a disaster. No architect would ever deem them worthy to be inhabited.”

  “They were that unsafe?”

  “It’s a miracle most of them didn’t fall into the river,” Brund replied, shaking his head. “Still, it took us months just to clear space for the new structures. Which are considerably more substantial as you have no doubt noticed,” he added. Brund frowned suddenly, looking back at the other builders. “Ryle, Sarek, get up here and tell his majesty what you’ve been working on!”

  The two young builders reluctantly drew closer, shooting nervous glances at Relam and attempting to bow as they walked. Relam struggled to hide a grin at their uneasiness, hoping Cevet was doing the same.

  “So,” Relam asked, gesturing to the surrounding buildings. “How did all of this come about? It’s been a while since I’ve been directly involved in the project.”

  Brund nodded eagerly. “Well, it started with a vision of course. You were partially involved with that process, your majesty. Each building was designed to house a couple hundred people, with plenty of space, accessibility, and safety. You won’t find any of the blind alleys and trap streets that used to exist in this part of Etares. In fact, Commander Hadere has been able to significantly reduce patrols in the area.

  “That’s good,” Cevet observed. “Who did the design for these buildings?”

  “I did,” Brund replied proudly. “With some input from another architect and a city planner. Both excellent men, very sharp. Now, I said we have built many of these new buildings. What you may not realize is that every single one of these buildings is unique!”

  “What?” Relam asked looking back at the buildings they had passed. “How in the world did you have time for that?”

  “Oh, we didn’t,” Brund replied, chuckling. “In fact,” he added, glancing back at Ryle and Sarek. “We are a little behind schedule a
t the moment, what with all the snow and weather. But I digress. We were able to make these buildings unique using a very simple concept.”

  “Modularization,” Cevet guessed. Relam blinked in surprise, wondering what in the world the regent meant. But Brund’s eyes widened and Ryle and Sarek let out exclamations of appreciation.

  “How in the world did you know?” the architect asked Cevet. “You must have more than a mere interest in architecture and construction, Regent Thius.”

  “Maybe a little more,” Cevet admitted, “But it makes sense. Saves you doing the same work multiple times.” He glanced at Relam and must have noticed the young king was not following this turn in the conversation at all. “Modularization means designing a few standard components and then combining them in a lot of different, unique ways,” Cevet explained, eyes glittering with excitement. “I noticed some similarities in the buildings we passed earlier, shape and layout decisions that overlapped but were not identical. Modularization was the obvious conclusion.”

  “Of course,” Relam muttered. “Obvious, as you said.”

  “To one with an experienced eye,” Sarek agreed, speaking for the first time. “When we reach the building Ryle and I are foremen for, we can show you a little more of our process.”

  “That would be great,” Cevet said eagerly. He glanced around, noticing they were still surrounded by finished buildings. “Where is your most recent project?” he asked.

  “Another three buildings ahead,” Ryle explained. “The structures you see now were finished over the course of the last three months. Normally, so much could not be done in such a short time, but his majesty has given us a small army of workers.”

  “Commander Hadere has helped as well,” Brund added. “His soldiers have been spreading the word about this project, that solid wages can be had for a good day’s work.”

  “What of the people who used to live in the area?” Relam asked. “Do they contribute?”

  “Some,” Sarek replied, nodding. “Quite a few, actually. Many of the people who are living in those buildings back by the main road now helped build those structures originally.”

  “It is a good thing,” Brund said, “This way they have pride in their new living space, and feel like they did something to make it theirs, to have a right to take ownership of it. As I mentioned earlier, crime is down significantly in the area and these streets here are the safest in all of Etares’ west side.”

  They rounded a slight bend in the road, still following the river more or less, and a series of houses that were under construction came into view. Relam gaped in astonishment at the workers swarming over the partially completed structures, climbing scaffolding, cutting wood, hauling stone. There were hundreds of workers, and they all seemed to know what they were doing.

  “They’re efficient,” Cevet observed, echoing Relam’s thoughts. “Any previous construction experience?”

  “Not much,” Ryle said, shrugging. “But they work pretty well.”

  “They see value in the project,” Brund explained, “And a great many of them will end up living here when the buildings are completed. Before winter set in, they worked feverishly to get as many built as possible. They have relaxed their frantic pace somewhat recently, but still take great pride in their work.”

  “Can we walk through a few of them?” Cevet asked eagerly.

  “Should be safe enough,” Sarek replied. “Keep your wits about you though, don’t want to have to explain how the king and his regent got roughed up on our site.”

  “We’ll be careful,” Relam promised, grinning at the builders. “Lead the way, Sarek.”

  The foreman moved quickly to the nearest building, teeming with workers. The first level of this structure was nearly complete, but the second and third levels were still skeletal frames. Stone and lumber were being hauled up and down on ropes by a team on the ground, while workers above removed the materials and piled them carefully to one side.

  “As Brund said, these buildings each house a couple hundred people,” the foreman began. “Inside of each is a collection of individual living units. Some are designed for a single person, some for families. They’re all connected by central hallways on each floor.”

  They moved through the structure slowly, dodging construction workers and stepping around piles of equipment. The workers stopped and stared at Relam and Cevet as they passed, a few bowing awkwardly when they saw the crown.

  “This is good work,” Relam observed, stooping to inspect the lower part of one of the walls. “Everything is set perfectly level. No mortar, though?”

  “No,” Brund said from behind Relam, shaking his head. “No mortar. The blocks are large enough and cut regularly enough that they are stable without mortar.”

  “And they fit together very tightly,” Ryle added. “There’s not much of an airgap there at all.”

  “There doesn’t seem to be any airgap,” Cevet murmured, running a hand over the wall. “Your masons should be commended.”

  “They do good work,” Sarek agreed, “But it’s not just the masons. The ones who lay the blocks are part of this as well. The masons roughly shape each block, but the final details are done when the stone is actually set in place.”

  “Once we know how it needs to fit with the blocks around it,” Brund interjected. “The masons don’t have access to that information, so they can’t do the finishing details.”

  “That sounds like it takes time,” Relam observed doubtfully. “Is that part of the reason you are behind schedule?”

  “I don’t think so,” Brund countered, shaking his head slowly. “We anticipated this when we provided you with the initial timeline. No, I think we just need more men. With winter setting in, the days are shorter and colder, harder to work.”

  “I see,” Relam murmured. “We’ll have to see about those extra men. Have all of the people whose old homes are gone been moved into one of these units?”

  “Not yet,” Sarek grunted, grimacing. “There’s probably two or three buildings’ worth of people who are living in improvised housing right now.”

  “Improvised housing?” Cevet asked pointedly.

  “Tents and the like,” Ryle elaborated. “It’s not ideal, but until we complete these other buildings – ”

  “It’s a lot worse than ‘not ideal’,” Relam growled. “Do you know how cold it gets overnight?”

  “Aye,” Ryle replied, shivering. “We’ve worked through a night or two. And we’ve only tents ourselves since we stay on site with Brund all the time.”

  “You don’t go home?”

  Sarek laughed. “Wherever our project is, that is home. We spend all day building, but there is also work which must be done besides the actual building. Planning, namely.” They came to a flight of stairs and the foreman started climbing up to the second level, the rest of the small group following behind him.

  “We need to get the rest of those people in real housing,” Relam muttered, “Regardless of who else is in tents.”

  “These three buildings will be finished in . . . a month or two?” Cevet guessed.

  “Maybe a tad longer,” Ryle replied.

  “So, well into winter,” Cevet observed. “We need another solution. Anywhere in the city we could move them to?”

  “Not that I am aware of,” Brund said after a moment’s thought. “At least, not anywhere indoors.”

  “How are they?” Relam interrupted. “The people who don’t have new homes yet?”

  “Cold,” Sarek grunted. “Disgruntled.”

  “Do they help with the construction?”

  “Those who can.”

  “Then we need to find some way to help them out,” Relam decided. “Let’s finish touring this building, then go visit the tent camps.”

  “As you wish, your majesty.”

  They moved through the second and third levels of the building more cautiously, watching the construction workers as they went about framing in the upper levels, adding walls and floors,
mapping out rooms and hallways. They worked with an efficiency and energy that surprised Relam, especially considering the freezing conditions.

  Only a few of the workers they passed looked up from their given tasks or took any notice of their visitors. Those who did blinked in surprise, then went back to work with renewed vigor. A couple stopped Sarek or Ryle to ask questions, but other than that their progress through the building was unimpeded.

  If Relam was impressed, Cevet was brimming with curiosity. The regent paused more than once to observe an individual worker, whether he was framing a room, laying a floor, working the rudimentary cranes, or arguing with his fellows over the layout of the building. Every task seemed to fascinate the young lord, and it seemed to Relam that Cevet would gladly stay here the remainder of the day, and maybe even join the workers in their labor.

  The tour culminated in a climb to the highest safe point in the building, a third-floor room which was missing two of its walls and half of its floor. Relam eyed the drop to the second level nervously at first, then he was distracted by the view.

  This particular room looked out towards the Furnier River, and from there back towards the eastern half of Etares. The frozen river shone in a bright ribbon, a shimmering divider between the organized, impressive east side and the rebuilding west. To the south, part of the harbor was visible, numerous ships sitting at anchor, their rigging and masts frosted and teeming with small icicles. The Citadel and the palace lorded over the entire scene, looming above the rest of the city.

  “Magnificent,” Cevet breathed. “You know, the east side really is beautiful.”

  “No one could see it like this until now,” Brund observed, gesturing towards the surrounding buildings. “This area was a mess. Still is, to an extent. But it is getting better. Some of these buildings will go even higher than this one, and the view will be even more majestic.”

  “You’ve made good progress,” Relam murmured, glancing down at the second level. “Incredible progress, really. The funds for the project are holding up?”

  “They will cover all of our plans and more,” Brund assured him, eyes gleaming. “And we’re paying our workers extremely well.”