07: Uncertain Future

“Come in,” Leofric the Fourth, King of the Nanon Kingdom, called out.

“Father, you called for me?” Laira bowed to him, as the guards closed the doors behind her.

“Yes. I have something very important to tell you, sunbeam,” he said, with exhaustion in his voice and on his prematurely aged face. He was not even in his sixties, but the weight of immense responsibilities had taken it’s toll. Laira noticed him toying with his signet ring. He only did that when he was nervous.

“Laira,” he said, looking her in the eyes, “I will publicly declare you my heir the next God day.”

“What?” she blurted out loudly, forgetting all decorum. “You… you’re serious?”

“Yes,” he exhaled. “I have been waiting for years for Linus to grow up, but I cannot wait anymore. Not in the light of the enemies we are going to face. He will not fare well against the onslaught of enemies on the outside and inside. You, on the other hand,” a faint smile spread on his face, “ have shown remarkable skill at handling people. I would feel much better leaving Nanon in your hands.”

“Why are you talking like that? Are you sick?” she stepped closer to him, putting a hand on his forehead.

“No,” he chuckled. “I’m just beginning to feel the weight of old age,” he said, putting a bony hand on her shoulder, “but one never knows when Death comes knocking at their door, so it’s better to prepare in advance.”

“There are decades left for that,” she replied testily, her eyes narrowed.

“If God wills it,” he replied with a forced smile.

“Are you sure about it?” she said, letting herself fall into a seat. “We’ve never had a reigning Queen. It will not sit well with the nobles, and I can’t even imagine what kind of tantrum Linus will throw.”

“Regardless, it must be done. Our realm’s future is at stake, and your reluctance alone is proof enough that you think before you speak and act. I wish I could say the same for your brother.”

Laira just nodded in response, too stunned to focus on his grievances. She silently prayed to be deafened so she would survive the tantrum that was guaranteed to ensue.

Later that day, the castle’s air shook with the angry shouts of a young man.

“You couldn’t possibly be serious about it!” Linus shouted, eyes wide in disbelief.

“I am,” their father replied calmly.

“Her! Her? You are going to declare her your heir?” he repeated multiple times in disbelief, rudely pointing at Laira. “I am your firstborn son!”

“Linus, I have been waiting for you to grow up and assume your duties as the crown prince for years. You are twenty-one, but have shown no initiative or even interest. Your sister assumed many of those duties, and has been fairly successful in them.”

Linus whirled upon her. “You have been doing all that to make me look bad, haven’t you? How long have you been planning this?”

Laira gave him a flat look in response. “Linus, our dear father is too polite to point out that all you have cared for ever since ‘growing up’ has been hunting, whoring and gambling. I developed interest in some of the work and took over it. It’s not like you were doing it.”

His eyes glinted with hatred and malice so intense it sent a chill down her spine. He took control of his features and turned back to their father. “Father, you will shame me forever in front of the entire realm?”

“It’s not about you Linus, but our realm. It will not survive under your leadership, especially with Zoran almost at our doorsteps. I have spent years pleading, begging, bribing, lecturing and even threatening you, yet you did not change your ways. Now, it is too late.”

For the first time in a long time, Linus seemed to be thinking before speaking. “Father, look at her. How is she going to lead Nanon in difficult times? Who is going to respect a woman?”

“I know full well it will be an uphill challenge for Laira to gain cooperation of other nobles, but you have left me no choice. I cannot wait any longer.”

“War, father, war!” he almost shouted, his voice growing hoarse. “How will she lead men into battle? How will she even rouse their spirits? I’m not particularly tall, and she barely comes up to my shoulder!”

“A leader doesn’t always has to be on the vanguard.”

“But a good one always will! The only thing she will be good at would be rousing their cocks!”

“Linus!” Their father raised his voice for the first time. “You will not talk to your sister that way!”

Instead of responding, Linus sent a hateful glare her way and walked out.

Laira exhaled a sigh of relief, though her mind cataloged his response. She might have to fear for her life from her own brother. She considered declining the appointment, but Nanon indeed needed a capable leader in these troubled times, and she would definitely do a better job than Linus. She would just have to take more precautions with her security.

She looked at her heartbroken father. She had wanted to berate him at times for not being strict with Linus during their younger years, but understood that he had spoiled the boy in an attempt to never let him feel the lack of a mother. Now the consequences had come home to roost.

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The new nation of Chadom

The next day, I scanned the valley and quickly spotted the perfect location for a walled city: an elevated part of the valley floor beside a large bend in the river, which would serve as a natural defense.

“This is where we will establish Cradle, our first settlement,” I said, pointing toward the site.

It would be a kilometer or so in diameter, if I could build it, but that was far beyond our current means. So I decided to start with a much smaller version, on the highest point. It would be my castle, protecting every citizen of our nascent country.

It’s first version, a palisade, would also be the first shelter for thousands of people. Essentially a long, circular longhouse.

I had the craftsmen build a thin rope of fifty meters, then had one end staked at the center. Keeping the rope taut, I had the other end spun around to draw a large circle on the ground.

“What is this design, Sire?” the Steward asked.

“A ring castle,” I replied. “An over-sized shell keep, with rooms built between the walls. A single imposing structure that will protect and house everyone in times of trouble. I want it to be a hundred meters in diameter, so we need to erect three hundred fourteen meters of sturdy palisade.”

“That sounds like a large undertaking.”

“It is,” I said, “but it’s also necessary. We need a large fortification to protect every civilian if we are ever attacked, as any major setback would be a death sentence to our settlement. With such a small population, we just don't have the margin to survive any blows. None of our valuables, be it grain, livestock and most importantly, people, must be lost.”

“We don’t have any livestock or much grain to protect,” said Lothar, with a dry chuckle. “What about guards?”

“We’re going to need a lot of them. Most crossbowmen can accurately shoot at least forty meters or so. So if they are to cover each other, we will need eight bastions around the castle. One pair of crossbowmen atop each, and four guards manning the gate. That’s twenty guards per shift. So at least forty for day and night protection.”

“Bastion?” Lothar cocked an eyebrow.

“It's essentially a section of wall extended out like a tower. Since they are much thicker than towers, bastions are also tougher.”

They are also necessary if you want to place cannons atop the walls. That was far in the future, but it never hurts to prepare in advance.

“Forty men doing nothing but standing guard?” asked Erickson incredulously.

“That’s the price of safety,” I said. “And even then it’s not guaranteed. But first, we need to build a proper castle.”

My face fell as I stared at the finished plan carved in the dirt. The human mind could not truly grasp large numbers until they were represented in real life. The plan was so large that I doubted we could finish it within a month, and I refused to risk my people’s lives for my perfectionism.

I would’ve made it smaller, but math landed another punch in my gut, when it showed me that a circle of fifty meter radius would cover an area of only 7,850 square meters (84496 sq. feet), leaving a person not even three square meters (32 sq. feet) for themselves. I would have to review the Cha’s practices and knowledge regarding hygiene, as that many people crowded together would be a playground for diseases.

My mind wanted to whine, give up and escape into some indulgence, but failure meant death. So I hardened my resolve, let go of the breath I had been holding, and addressed the few masons, carpenters, ropemakers and blacksmiths that were among the refugees.

“Gentlemen,” I said, straightening my back. “Our situation is dire. We need to build a sturdy palisade three hundred fourteen meters long and six meters tall if we are to survive any threat. The security of our people is in your hands.”

Their worried expressions began turning into steely determination.

“Do what you must, but we need to finish it as soon as possible. I will assign fifty men to do nothing but logging, while you prepare the timber and supervise the digging of it’s foundation.”

I turned to the Steward. “In this time of emergency, I will need every able bodied person to spend at least two hours of their time every day to building the palisade. Would that be feasible, lord Steward?”

“Yes, Sire,” he said, nodding emphatically.

“M-my lord?” a young man asked hesitantly.

“Yes?”

“Why six meters? That’s quite tall.”

Ignoring the older men’s scowls, I answered the inquisitive craftsman. “Good question. It needs to be at least six meters tall because a room has to be at least two meters tall. After we’re finished building the palisade, we will begin working on a stone wall five meters out, which would be even taller. Then we will connect the two with planks to create a three story shell keep, giving us almost three hundred spacious rooms, to keep everyone safe. What is your name?”

“Aramid, my lord.”

“I like your initiative, Aramid. You know, we also need to build bastions, attached towers, around the palisade. Do you think you can handle that responsibility?”

His eyes bulged out in response. I noticed he was by far the youngest of the lot; by quite a bit. I wanted to reward initiative, but also couldn't risk strife brewing among the tradesmen, at least not yet.

“When did you graduate from being an apprentice, Aramid?”

“It’s been almost a year.”

“Oh. I suppose it would be best if you continue supporting your mentor for a while. Maybe I will have some personal tasks for you.”

I turned to the rest of the group. “Everyone, please don’t hesitate to talk to me, Elder Erickson or among yourselves if you’ve come up with a good idea. Remember, we are all in the same boat; whether we float or sink, we will do it together.”

The men nodded hesitantly. It was instinctive to hoard what you thought would give you an advantage over others, but fostering a culture of information sharing was necessary if I wanted to kick-start the engine of prosperity. I had an idea for that.

“Elder Erickson tells me I have a barrel of good mead to my name. Why don’t we meet at the end of the week to discuss your progress and any new ideas you come up with over a drink?”

That put a smile to everyone’s face.

“We offered that barrel to you for your personal use, Sire,” the Steward hissed, as he escorted me back to my tent.

“Getting the wall built is far more important to me than chugging some booze, Elder,” I said, clutching his shoulder.

I doubted if I could even catch a buzz anymore. I had never cared for alcohol anyway, nor did I have time to get drunk. I needed to tour the valley and explore every nook and cranny of our new home.

I had dinner in my tent, a gruel of grain with chunks of meat and mushrooms, and was about to sleep, when I felt a fist sized stone underneath my pillow. I took it out and was about to throw it away, when I noticed there was something written on it. Taking it outside, I turned it around in my hands under the full moon’s light.

There was a single word painted on it.

“Fraud.”