Chapter 289: The Blueprints of Oakhaven
Kellar crossed the final steps and halted before the three kneeling figures. Then he crouched, took Rosalind by the shoulders, and raised her.
"Up. None of that," said Kellar, and his voice came out softer than any of his captains had ever heard it.
He raised Julian as well, who stiffened for an instant, and then Drake, who let himself be lifted without meeting his eyes.
"You are more than welcome," declared Kellar, sweeping his gaze over the three of them. "In this valley you sit as though in your own home. Eat whatever there is, sleep wherever you wish, ask for whatever you need. To me, the three of you are family."
Rosalind blinked, caught off guard. Then she pressed a hand to her chest.
"Thank you, Great Shaman," whispered the young woman, her voice breaking. "We shall be more than glad to join you in whatever you need. If there is anything at all in which we might prove useful, do not hesitate to ask it of us. We shall be more than willing."
"I shall keep that in mind," replied Kellar.
He straightened and raised two fingers toward the row of cots.
"Take them to the infirmary. The finest beds, clean clothes, and a hot broth for each. And let no one disturb them until they have slept," ordered Kellar.
"Great Shaman," protested Julian, "I can..."
"You can sleep," cut him off Kellar. "Tomorrow I shall need you awake."
The healers carried them off. Kellar lingered a moment, staring at the gap they left behind.
Warmth cost him nothing. And it purchased more than fear ever would... thought Kellar.
The square still reeked of blood. Kellar did not order it washed.
He gathered the captains beneath the torches. Grok, Thorin, and a dozen company chiefs formed a half circle, and none spoke first.
"Tonight the Bear God spoke to me," began Kellar, lacing his hands behind his back. "He guided the castaways to our bank because they belong to us. From this night forth, those sailors are brothers of the tribe."
Thorin furrowed his brow.
"Brothers, Great Shaman?" asked the captain. "They are men of the sea. They cannot hunt. They cannot sow. And they have already cost us half a hundred wounded merely to drag them out of the water."
"They also brought us a ship," replied Kellar, without raising his voice. "And a captain. And two heirs of an archducal house with more naval experience than the whole continent combined."
Thorin opened his mouth and shut it again.
"And if they lie?" insisted Thorin.
"Then we shall learn it soon enough," said Kellar. "Until then, we feed them. A hungry dog bites. A well-fed dog guards the door."
Grok struck his chest with his fist. The remaining captains copied him, one by one.
"Tomorrow the dockworks begin," added Kellar. "I want ropes, winches, and two watch rotations upon the river. If anything drifts down the current, I want to know of it before it is seen."
When they withdrew, Kellar remained alone in the square. The torches sputtered, and the blood of the four beheaded men had already turned black upon the earth.
A hull stranded in the mud was not enough. A ship without a shipyard was a large corpse. And large corpses sink just the same.
By dawn, Kellar was already on his feet.
The sun had barely crested the valley’s edge when he walked to the bank with the three of them. The Grand Nautilus lay on its side in the mud, enormous and wounded, its rigging hanging like entrails. Around it, a crew of carpenters was already measuring the hull’s fractures with ropes.
Drake halted a few paces away and regarded his vessel in silence. Rosalind lowered her head. Julian clenched his jaw.
Kellar pointed at the chests stacked upon the sand.
"What lies inside those chests?" asked Kellar.
"The little we managed to carry out of our realm before it burned," answered Drake, his voice hoarse. "House relics, papers, some silver. Nothing worth what you have already given us, my lord."
"Can you open them?" asked Kellar.
"They were yours since last night," said Drake, kneeling. "You did not have to wait for us."
He forced the first lock with the pommel of his saber and lifted the lid.
What emerged was not gold.
They were blueprints. Hundreds of tightly packed parchment scrolls bound with twine, covered in hair-thin strokes that described frames, keels, masts, and sailcloth. Beside them, nautical charts rolled inside leather tubes, thick with notes in a minuscule hand. And beneath it all, a smaller chest lined in cloth, which upon opening revealed silver coins and a fistful of uncut gems.
Kellar took one of the scrolls and unrolled it against the light.
[Oakhaven Naval Blueprints]
Description: Compendium of maritime engineering of House Pendelton. Includes reinforced hull designs, three-masted sail plans, and ballast systems for oceanic navigation.
Kellar held his silence for several seconds. Grok leaned in to look over his shoulder.
"Is it good for anything, Great Shaman?" asked Grok.
"It is good for letting us master this enormous river," replied Kellar.
Rosalind stepped forward.
"My lord, if you permit it," said Rosalind, her gaze steady, "I can raise a complete map of the valley and the basin within two weeks. I know every current of the eastern archipelago and I have charted routes the pirate fleet dares not cross."
"You shall do it. But not alone. I shall assign you men and material," said Kellar.
The young woman pressed a hand to her chest and bowed.
Kellar turned toward the youth.
"And you, Julian Pendelton. You say you were a general," said Kellar.
"I was, my lord," answered Julian.
"How many men did you command?" asked Kellar.
"Three thousand at the port defense. Before they came," replied Julian.
"And how many survived?" pressed Kellar.
Julian took a moment to answer.
"Four hundred," admitted Julian.
Kellar studied him closely. He recalled the numbers the system had shown him the night before. Strength one thousand two hundred. Dexterity one thousand five hundred. A body able to cleave a man in half with bare hands, shut inside the skull of a boy who had not yet reached twenty.
"The four hundred who survived with you shall be reformed," said Kellar. "From this day forth, you are the General of the tribe’s land forces. While the vessels are restored, you shall learn every inch of that hull. When they are ready, you shall be the admiral of my fleet."
Julian jerked his head up.
"General?" said Julian, and the word came out crooked. "My lord, there are captains here who have served you far longer."
"And they shall keep serving me," replied Kellar. "But not one of them can do what you do. Command is not inherited, boy. It is exercised. Exercise it."
Julian knelt upon the damp sand and pressed his forehead to the ground.