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Imperator-Zor — Infrastructure: Part Three Hundred and Thirty One
#apron #carpenter #hook #timber #wood #fidelium #saw #fantasy #infrastructure #pegleg #sawmill #sciencefiction
Published: 2021-10-11 13:57:42 +0000 UTC; Views: 5315; Favourites: 5; Downloads: 0
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Description
Kainla Forth of Rosilim had no feet, which while not unusual for a Valnothron slave was unusual for a slave clerk. One day when she was twelve she got jostled in a crowd and her lower legs were crushed under an ox cart. She recovered and soon resumed her job keeping track of the flow of goods in and out of a warehouse, though things did become more difficult. For ten years she tried to be a good worker and her masters were satisfied with her book keeping, but getting about was difficult at best and her ability to perform daily chores was compromised. Her family and some of her fellows were supportive and the priest commended her dutifulness, but there were others in her compound that saw her as a burden and a freak. She thought she was doing well despite all of this up until on a cold winter's day she was taken away and sold off. Her masters had trained up a cooper's daughter to replace her and they'd found a buyer interested in slave clerks on the cheap.
At the time, she was too worked up about being taken away from everyone she'd ever known to put much thought where she was going, but whatever she thought was in store being one of the founders of Fidelium was not on that list. Life on the frontier was hard, doubly so with a handicap. Never the less she persevered, life had given her a challenge before and she'd do her best to deal with this. There was a surprising need for people who could read and write even in this rustic setting, even though she also spent time cleaning pots, feeding firewood to the ovens, making candles and other odd jobs. More surprising still was that despite needing a cane to get around and not even being consecrated, Kainla ended up with a measure of influence. To someone who was raised to only speak when spoken to, be humble, be modest and above all else be dutiful and obey orders it took some time for her to realize this, but she realized this fact in time to make the most important decision of her life.
Over the past three years, she'd gradually gotten close with Tolish Third of Coreth . There were noticeably more men than women among the Fidelians and even a peg legged woman would have at least some choice in partners, never the less she saw something in the battered man. The fact that both of them had been crippled was an initial link and their work was different enough that they had plenty to talk about. A friendship soon formed and soon it became more. For the most part, he simply plodded along as best he could hoping that his work would be sufficient. Kainla saw in him untapped potential and made her move.
For the most part Tolish worked for the Housing Deaconate, doing odd bits of rough carpentry work here and there for them. Among the projects was a water wheel driven saw mill. When the matter of who would be put in charge of it was brought up, Kainla recommended Tolish alongside herself acting as his permanent secretary. There were other figures that had worked on it and the priests generally agreed that one of them put in charge. But Kainla argued that Tolish had special experience, having helped build the mechanisms and having previously worked in a sawmill in Galthirith (which was true, though that had been a side assignment for at most a few weeks a year). She also brought up that he had led logging gangs (which was true, for what leading four other lumberjacks was worth). The fact that he was crippled meant that he could be more productively employed overseeing an operation than doing manual labor. She also brought up his Naval Service, which was brief but faithfully carried out. That a pair of Conjugal Partners working in harmony would be more productive than two acquaintances. Finally she told him that he had one critical advantage in that he could read and write. When asked to demonstrate that ability, he read a passage from the Book of Anthropics and wrote the names of two prelates in a rough but legible hand. It had taken him a year of late night lessons with Kainla to get where she was when she was six, but it was the edge he needed.
That was two weeks ago. There was some grumblings as a few people who thought that they'd get the position and some of them were still bitter. Even so things had settled down as there was work to do. There was a lot of building going on and the demand for timber was high. The rhythmic sounds of the gears and mechanisms in full work and the saw blade cutting through were a regular fixture of the place, one that you soon got used to. Regularly, Tolish made his rounds, examining the work being done at the various levels to see how things were going with Kainla following. Around noon on a comparatively cool day he made his way by the main saw with a crew of three people operating it. He stands and waits for a bit.
"Silhin," Tolish said "a word."
A young fellow with curly hair comes over. "High-Miller?" Technically the title was manager, but High-Miller seems to have stuck.
"It's the bark bits."
"The bark, High-Miller?"
"Yes, the bark bits. There's far more of them on the cutting path than there should be. You should be sweeping them away after every five logs otherwise they get under the dolly's wheels."
"Well we have a lot of logs to do, High Miller."
"And if the dolly goes off the rails it won't cut them straight or worse." He waves his hand Silhin, showing the missing finger. "I don't want one of you lads to get cut up. Get the Brooms, once every five logs."
"Yes High-Miller." Silhin then bowed and went off to get a broom.
"Do you want him replaced?" Kainla asked.
"Nah. He's just a kid and he's still learning." Tolish replies. "We're all still learning. I just don't want the lesson to be messy and painful. Besides he knows a thing or two about gears in a gristmill."
Kainla expected the reply but there was little harm in asking. As far as she could tell it was the right move. The last thing she wanted was for things to go wrong in the sawmill with people getting maimed or killed. This was a good indoor job and the pay (still mostly in kind) was better than most. But more than that were the long term prospects. The Deaconate of Farms was gradually giving plots of formerly communal farmland away to members of agricultural work crews. If she and Tolish could keep the sawmill running smoothly, in all likelihood it would be theirs in a few years. Now it is time to play it safe, though she. For a good chunk of her life, she'd hoped only to be found useful and have a quiet unremarkable life. Now the fires of her ambition have been rekindled and while they were well banked by pragmatism and hard experience, they burned bright.
