Aedelbert groaned, and the two men inspected the foundation. "Here's the problem," Caedda snapped. "Crumbled out along the trench and dropped the rock into the trench. Schaef dung." He tossed the broken bit as far and hard as he could.
"Keep the other bits. We'll use them to shore up the trench wall, then rebuild the gap." Aedelbert wanted to snarl as well, but there wasn't any point. "Radmar turned the Wheel." Since Caedda had dug that portion of the slag trench, Aedelbert understood his frustration.
They removed the stones from inside the trench and around it, then used the broken ones to shore up the sides of the trench, along with some of the waste rock left from digging the trench. Once the sides of the trench felt and looked stable, the men began re-building the wall. Now they had to fit stones into an existing structure without disturbing the others, and then seal it with clay. At least they had not gotten to that part, Aedelbert allowed. Trying to remove and redo the clay as well as the stones, and get a smooth enough interior finish, that meant far more work than simply filling the hole in the wall. And it had fallen before they had more than five courses above the foundation. If it had waited until they'd finished... The entire chimney would have fallen, probably onto the main smelter, given Radmar's habits.
"Should we have Ehric stand on it to see if it shifts?" Caedda inquired as they covered the interior with clay and smoothed it.
"No." He'd seen that done, but Ehric had gotten a little clumsy as well as taller, and if he fell, he'd likely break a bone.
Once the chimney wall reached eight courses, they assembled two sets of scaffold, one level high. One set went on the south, one on the north. Caedda studied the framework, frowning. "Sir, wasn't there an additional piece here," he touched base of the platform. "I don't see the cross brace."
Aedelbert left his task and checked the frame. "You're right. Should be two cross braces each side." The two sorted through the wood for the next level, in case they'd overlooked some pieces. "I don't see it."
"Hey!" A man bellowed, then hurried over to them. "You get away from our building timbers. Those'r for shelters for us."
Aedelbert straightened up. "No. That wood is over there," he pointed with his chin to the heap beside Turold's shelter. "This is scaffolding material we cut and fitted two eight-days back."
"Bird shit it is! That's for us an' you're stealin', ye damn Scavenger-born."
Caedda swung, catching the man and sending him reeling back, doubled over by the blow to his gut. Aedelbert shoved the stocky man onto his rear in the dirt. "All that wood has our mark, including the piece that is now missing. Unless you want one and two-thirds of three smelters, keep to your own wood pile."
Two more smelter workers ran toward the commotion, and Turold lumbered down from where he'd been talking to a charcoal burner. One of the smelter men had a long wooden push pole in his hand, and Aedelbert took his rock hammer out of his belt, crouching for a lunge.
"Hold!" Turold called. "What's the strife?"
The man on the ground pointed a finger at the stone-cutters. "They's stealin' our shelter wood and claim we's takin' from them. Hit me without cause, that one did!"
"I hit him because he accused us of theft and insulted all Scavenger Born, sir," Caedda stated. "We are missing pieces of the scaffold, even though they have our mark on them."
"Draw the mark," Turold ordered. He held a large rock-hammer in his left fist. Aedelbert sketched the mark in the dirt so all could see it. "Any wood in your building with that?" Turold nodded to the smelter men.
"Aye, but they took it from our store and put the mark on it after. All that's ourn'," the man on the ground declared. He managed to get to his feet and looked as if he wanted to resume the fight.
"Where's your store?"
The smelter men pointed to the closest pile, the marked wood. "Those."
Turold shook his head. "No. Your wood is up beside my cabin so that they," he gestured toward Caedda and Aedelbert with his hammer, "Won't touch it. I saw them bring this themselves and shape it. You bring back whatever has their mark, and keep to your own timber. Theirs is all for scrap once they finish."
"You're jus' sidin' with them because you're another Scavenger's bastard," the heavyset man growled low in his chest. The other smelter men backed away as fast as they could, several making warding gestures or spitting through the horns.
For all his injuries and scars, Turold moved fast and hard. Aedelbert didn't watch after Turold broke the other man's nose with the butt of his miner's hammer. The fool might know how to operate a smelter and work metal, but he hadn't the brains Korvaal gave schaef. Once the beating sounds—meaty thunks, animal-like yelps of pain—stopped, two of the smelter men handed Caedda an arm-load of marked wood. "Yer pardon, Master Caedda," one murmured. "Our mistake."
Caedda took the wood. "Honest mistake, honestly cured. No hard feelings."
"Thank ye, sir."
Caedda and Aedelbert set the cross-bracing on the scaffold and returned to work. Ehric brought stones and clay, and they worked steadily for as long as daylight lasted. As they reached the upper rings of stones, Aedelbert had Ehric join him. "Don't build farther than you can reach if you need to plaster or cover the inside of the chimney." He reached into the opening as far as his shoulder. "Otherwise, sure as rats, if you are depending on the reach of your tool to apply and smooth the plaster..."
Ehric grinned and pretended to drop something down a hole. "And there's not a good way to fetch either back, is there, sir?"
"Not from this. From a normal chimney, yes, and if you are wise, you have a little hole and a thong on your tool so it doesn't drop all the way."
Ehric peered into the space. "Ah, sir, if the clay is thick and sticky enough to stick to the paddle, will it be able to spread?"
Good question. "Yes, but." Aedelbert held up the smoothing tool. "The stones are not fitted, are they?"
"Not tight, dry-fitted, no sir. No mortar, either."
Aedelbert pushed on the top of the tool, and it tipped away from him. "As you force the drier clay onto the surface, you move the stones. The only way you can do it easily is to have one man outside and he exactly matches your push."
The boy's eyes lit up. "Like when the potters work on a wheel!" He put his hands palms-together in front of himself and pretended to draw clay up. "So the sides are straight and don't bulge in or out unless the potter wants them to."
He was fast, very fast, Aedelbert observed. "Exactly. So, I want you to work the inside of the chimney."
"Yes, sir!"
Aedelbert moved with care, keeping his weight spread as he and the boy traded places. He watched as Ehric took a handful of clay, worked it a little with one hand, then smeared it next to where Aedelbert had been working. Once he had a good layer that covered the stones completely, he took the smoothing tool. It looked like a plaster-worker's smoothing trowel or a carpenter's plane—a wooden board two hands in length as measured from wrist to tip of fingers, sanded and scraped smooth with a handle on the back—but curved just a little. That allowed them to ease the clay ahead of the tool and blend it into the edges more easily. Aedelbert had seen the thing used by someone repairing a chimney and had gone hungry for a week in order to buy one for himself. Ehric didn't press quite as hard as Aedelbert did, just judging by the amount of clay shifted to the side, but again, it was easier to start with a light touch and then learn.
Aedelbert let him finish that round of plastering, then set two courses of stone. "Remember, we are tapering in," he cautioned. Caedda rolled his eyes, but then he'd not had to re-do a span of wall because someone forgot to taper with height. Ehric leaned into the chimney and studied what existed thus far, then set the two courses. He started in the middle and worked out, and Aedelbert waited. Indeed, the boy discovered that his taper did not match Caedda's work, and he had to re-do both rows. Aedelbert said nothing, and Caedda matched his silence. Instead, Caedda finished his rows, plastered them, and climbed down from the scaffold. He sauntered over to the fire b
urning near the first smelter, selected one of the sausages on sticks and came back, eating loudly. That's mean. Well done. Ehric's stomach growled but he kept working and didn't complain.
The next day Caedda supervised Ehric as he set the final course of stone on the top of the smelter. These ran end to end rather than nose in, tail out. Then a layer of clay covered everything. Caedda had a bit of broken pot that happened to fit the stones, and showed Ehric how to use it to make a crown on top with the clay in order to turn water. "Some places put a roof over the smelters entire, but Master Winfrith doesn't want that here. So we put extra clay around the top and don't taper as much as we might otherwise."
"Aye," a voice called from the base of the scaffold. "There's miasmas from smelting lead and copper together and no point in trapping those in with workmen. Rocks in the Gift weep vitriole, so we know they have miasma bubbles in them. Heat the rock and out comes the bad air." Winfrith put his hands on his hips. "No point in breathing miasmas if a man can avoid it. We'll build a small shed-roof to go over the top of the chimney if we need to, to keep it from cold-cracking in the rain."
And that meant woodwork finer than Aedelbert cared to do. Good, not his problem then. He waved to Winfrith and returned to shaping the clay so that it matched the curve and surfaces on Caedda's side without crack or seam.
"I'll fire this one tomorrow," Winfrith told them at sundown. "Take two days, no, three days so you get the Eighth Day. And if you know of a source for great hauler dung, tell them I want to buy it. From Garmouth, not the farmers. They'll charge the weight in gold."
"Fire!" Aedelbert had his trousers on and boots on feet before he finished waking. "Fire!" The wooden rattles of the fire-watchers and the cries brought men running, many carrying buckets and pails or pots. Aedelbert and Caedda joined the stream of men and women racing toward the mills. Rella be praised we're close to water. "Fire near the beast market! All to the bucket line!" Two priests directed people where to form the line, and two of the bigger men climbed down onto the stepping stones in the mill-stream, filling leather buckets and handing them up. Other men and women hurried past with hook-ended poles to pull down the burning stuff before sparks could spread. No one asked questions. The buckets grew heavy as they travelled hand to hand, and breath needed to be saved for working.
A red glow in the darkness told Aedelbert what he needed to know. This was no false warning. Fire burned and all had to help stop it, rich or poor, miner or farmer. "Glad we don't have thatch roofs anymore," an old woman wheezed, then took another bucket and passed it along the line. She wore a shawl and her shift and clogs, nothing more, and Aedelbert looked away as he passed the heavy pails and buckets. He had a good reason to sleep in his smalls. He'd been called out for fires too often not to. Thanks be the night stayed warm, and this was high summer, not mid-winter. Nothing stopped a mid-winter fire save for more fire, and people died from cold afterwards. Who had failed to bank their fire at the proper time? Or had someone been careless with a lamp or torch? Worry later, move buckets now.
CreeeaakCRASH! A building fell in with a spray of embers and sparks. The men and women on the line groaned. Two fresh men replaced the ones in the stream and the buckets continued to pass. A boy peltered down the line, calling, "'Twas the old rain shelter caved in, fire's not spreadin', still need water." Bucket after bucket went up the line and bucket after bucket came down. Thanks be to Donwah of the Waters for the millstream. Thanks be that no wind moved in the night. Thanks be for rain not long before. Aedelbert recited thanks prayers in his mind, trying to ignore the pain in his hands. He should have grabbed his gloves. At least he had breeches on. Some men wore nothing but what they'd come into the world wearing.
Black water trickled down the far side of the lane. "Priests and Master Colar say stop," the word came. Two soot-streaked men and an equally tired woman came down the line, hooked poles over their shoulders. "Fire's out, embers too. Rella and Donwah be praised, one old shelter burned and part of two houses. Pulled them down before it could spread."
Everyone set about locating their own buckets, or drinking the water. A few poured it back into the millstream with prayers of thanks. Two girls and a boy offered buns from a basket. Aedelbert and Caedda both took two. They tasted like the rolls made at the Wheat Wreath. A wise man asked no questions, and they ate, then carried their buckets back to the house, hung them on the hooks on the ground floor, and staggered up to bed once more.
The next morning, Aedelbert shook his head with dismay as he surveyed the damage. The old shelter in the beast market lay in ruins, only a few of the largest beams recognizable. Two men with axes cut the partially charred beams into smaller pieces and loaded them into hand-carts to take to the Scavenger's temple. They'd be given to those in need of firewood later in the year. The house owners worked to salvage what they could. One man had lost the entire wall and roof, and the other regarded the remains of an overhanging roof and portico. Their women and children removed furnishings and other household goods. "We'll rebuild," the man with the missing portico said. "Tile or slate if we can find them. Might make it deeper if the market master permits and let him rent it."
Behind Aedelbert, a woman whispered, "Council's been tellin' Hardrad to cover with plaster like the rest of us or put on a different roof, but no, he wouldn' heed."
A second woman murmured, "That's Hardrad for you. Skin a louse for leather, he would."
"Aye. Poor Hildi, workin' so hard for such a man."
Hildi would be the woman in a mended shawl trying to move too-heavy of a chest while her husband talked to someone. Aedelbert glanced left and right, then approached the lady. He lifted the other end of the chest, taking just enough of the weight that she could move it more easily to where she'd piled other furnishings. A child dragged a mass of bedding and a mattress seemed to move on its own. He lifted the dragging end of the mattress and saw small bare feet. Hardrad should quit flapping his tongue and start helping his family. Aedelbert felt nothing but contempt for the creature called Hardrad. He wasn't a man, not anymore. Aedelbert went into the remains of the house and lifted two chairs, carrying them out, then returning to help Hildi move a very heavy table. For a household so prosperous, the woman and children dressed like the poorest day workers. Anger rose in Aedelbert. Where were the neighbors and the men of the town who permitted this?
"Hey, get away from my goods. What are you doing?" Hardrad rushed up and grabbed the end of the table from Aedelbert, or tried to.
"I'm doing a proper man's job, since there are no grown men in the household," Aedelbert said, loud enough to be heard across the market square.
Hardrad's hands clenched into fists. Aedelbert set the table down on the stones near the other household goods. Hildi pulled the children to her, cowering away from her husband. "How dare you! I'm the man of the household and you are stealin' my—"
Two men in the tabards and hats of the town watch lowered halberds between the two men. "Shut it, Hardrad," the larger of the two stated in a loud voice. A number of people had gathered to watch, and some moved to stand between Hildi and the scene. "You couldn't be bothered to do your duty or to listen to the Council's warnings. Your lady wife is trying to save your gear so you can start rebuilding properly and all you can do is whine like a baby. Th' stone-master's right. If you can't work like a proper man, then get out of men's way and let them do what's needful."
Aedelbert sensed motion and glanced behind him. A chain of men and women carried the rest of the house's contents out and added them to the stack. Other women were guiding Hildi and the children to a corner of the market where a priestess of Gember waited with a large basket. He turned back to see Hardrad's face turn red, then pale.
"Unless you want the Scavenger's priests to declare this," the second guard waved his free hand toward the goods, "as the god's property, you'd best see about organizing it and moving it, then stabilize the house and call for carpenters and others."
"Yes, sir." Hardrad's shoulders drooped and he hu
ng his head. The people parted and Aedelbert left. More than enough town dwellers had started helping. The stone cutter found his way to the Golden Loaf and ordered a honey bread, plus whatever was in the pot, and smallbeer. Schaef and summer herbs in a dark-bread bowl filled his hollows, and the honey bread satisfied his craving for something sweet. The mildly bitter beer cut the honey and he felt well satisfied by the time he finished the meal. He set the tankard down, and a fresh one replaced it. "A mercy for a mercy," Mistress Godgifu stated firmly, then spun on her heel and returned to the counter. "No, no, not on the board, over there on the cooling shelf," she commanded a journeyman as he juggled a laden bread paddle.
Master Paegan of The Ore Cart emerged from behind the door to the kitchen. "Now you know what I do," he told someone, then closed the door. He came and thumped onto the bench across from Aedelbert. "My son," he tipped his head toward the kitchen. "His mother threw him out for bakin' better than she does. He's got cooler hands for sweet breads."
And no woman wanted to hear that her son baked better than she did. Aedelbert nodded and drank a little more of the beer. "Any news?"
The innkeeper glowered at the wall behind Aedelbert. "Someone lit the old beast shelter on fire. Rella's priest and a preservation mage looked at it, and someone cast a counter-charm to weaken the anti-fire spells put on the old wood."
Aedelbert felt his eyebrows rising until they bumped the band of his cap. "That's capital crime."
"Would be if anyone died. Thanks be to all gods known and unknown, no one was hurt and no beasts sheltered overnight. Goodman Karol lost his drying porch, but he'd already been talkin' about re-roofing it in tile or stone. He's with th' market master and Colar of the Council gettin' permission to do just that. Hardrad," He lifted his cap and ran his hand through thin dark brown hair. "The louse finally quit beratin' his family and hired a wagon to move his gear into one of his warehouses before the Scavenger's priests declare it salvage. And he spoke to Master Actulf about shoring up the roof and wall, and starting to rebuild."
Miners and Empire Page 11