Chapter 228: Expanding the Defensive Perimeter
After leaving the walls, Kellar headed to the construction zone to locate Mentz. The veteran leaned his weight on his wooden crutch as he reviewed diagrams drawn on leather over an improvised table.
"Mentz, what is the current status on the construction of the new fireplaces?" asked Kellar directly as he approached.
"The news is excellent, Great Shaman," replied Mentz, adjusting his balance to offer a bow. "The men are quarrying and hauling the stones down from the Eagle Mountain. Our workforce has multiplied thanks to you sending the soldiers to help us. I guarantee that every internal fireplace will be finished and operational before the heaviest stretch of the Great Snowfall hits."
"Good, excellent work," nodded Kellar, pleased with his chief builder’s efficiency. "Come with me, I want to show you something along the wall."
Moving at Mentz’s steady, crutch-paced stride, both men walked up to an elevated section of the timber perimeter. Kellar paused along the walkway and pointed toward the structure’s corners as he outlined the plan to construct reinforced embrasures to mount the new artillery pieces they were about to cast.
Noticing the bewildered look on the veteran hunter’s face—since he had never seen a cannon—Kellar adapted his explanation:
"Think of these structures as platforms designed to hold weapons roughly the size of the large siege ballistas we used before," clarified Kellar, gesturing toward the horizon. "But look out there, Mentz. The forest outside provides cover for ambushes. As the village grew, we occupied the cleared land we had deforested, and now the treeline sits in front of our wall. We must clear and expand that open buffer at least a couple of kilometers beyond our borders. We need an unobstructed field of fire to buy us time to react in the event of an attack."
Mentz gazed out at the edge of the forest and nodded, grasping the tactical threat through the eyes of a hunter.
"You are correct, my lord. We will dispatch logging crews to clear that strip as soon as the weather permits," said Mentz, before pointing with his crutch toward the rear of the village. "Speaking of defenses... what shall we do about the river running behind us? Our current wall forms a crescent embracing the settlement, but the side facing the water is exposed."
Kellar looked out over the surging river currents, its waters giving off wisps of vapor as the cold air struck the surface.
"We will keep it as is for now, or use the surplus timber from the logging to construct a provisional defense," commanded Kellar after a moment’s thought. "Erecting a palisade along the riverbank will make the populace feel more secure. However, ensure you leave access gates and firing positions open so the fishermen can continue their work. Even though we enjoy an abundance of smoked meat in our vaults, it is best to remain cautious and not neglect any food source."
"It shall be done as you order, Great Shaman," replied Mentz, taking mental note of the directives. "I will set the soldiers and builders to work on the embrasures and the riverbank palisade right away."
At that moment, the sound of footsteps and the crunching of snow breaking along the walkway interrupted the conversation. Lupar, the tribe’s scout, was approaching at a rapid pace, his breath ragged from the run and his cloak dusted with a layer of frost.
"Great Shaman!" exclaimed Lupar, coming to a halt and bowing his head with a grin. "We found it! Just as you instructed us!"
Kellar looked at him with interest, adjusting his fur robe against the biting wind.
"Speak, Lupar. Did you locate the deposits for the cement?" asked Kellar.
"Yes, my lord," answered the scout, catching his breath. "We followed your recommendations to the letter and pushed downriver along the banks of the Crocodile River. Just beyond the bend of the low cliffs, we uncovered the massive veins of limestone and the deposits of soft volcanic clay you described to us. There is enough raw material to fill wagons for years."
Mentz, leaning firmly on his crutch, widened his eyes as he listened to the report.
"That is nearly a day’s march through dangerous territory..." interjected Mentz, turning toward Kellar. "Great Shaman, if we bring that limestone and clay back to the village, can we truly craft that ’liquid stone’ that hardens until it becomes indestructible?"
"Indeed, Mentz," confirmed Kellar with a smile. "That is hydraulic cement. It does not merely harden in the air; it can set even underwater or in the middle of snowstorms. With those components, we will no longer rely on timber logs for our defenses; we will construct true masonry walls, everlasting foundations for our buildings, and stone fortifications capable of withstanding any assault."
Kellar turned back toward the scout.
"You did an extraordinary job, Lupar. Go to the granaries, get some hot meat, and rest," commanded Kellar him. "As soon as the worst of the Great Snowfall passes, I will dispatch an armed escort with heavy wagons to begin extracting the materials."
"It is an honor to serve you, Great Shaman!" replied Lupar with pride, bowing before hurrying down from the rampart toward the sheltered quarters of the village.
Mentz looked out toward the river, deep in thought as he adjusted his grip on his crutch atop the icy walkway.
"Great Shaman..." ventured Mentz, looking at Kellar. "Should we not send the wagons right away before the snow blocks the path? If we dispatch the soldiers now, we could bring back the first haul of limestone and clay before the river freezes over."
"No," replied Kellar instantly, his voice sharp and calm. "We will wait until the storm passes. The lives of our men are worth far more than a couple of stone wagons. If a heavy snowfall traps them in open ground near the river, even the best training won’t save them from the lethal freeze."
Kellar turned his head and locked eyes on Grok, his military leader and bodyguard, who stood a few paces away by the watchtower, scanning the perimeter with his battleaxe resting against his shoulder.
"Grok!" called out Kellar firmly.
The warrior marched over, the snow crunching under his boots against the timber walkway.
"Yes, Great Shaman?" answered Grok, bowing his head.
"Order every member of the tribe and all patrols currently in the outer zone to return to the village immediately," instructed Kellar him, glaring at the leaden sky hanging over the mountains. "I don’t want a person outside when the snow falls. Seal the secondary gates the moment the last man crosses the perimeter."
"It shall be done, my lord!" roared Grok, turning to bark orders toward the wall horn blowers.
Kellar took one last look at the frozen horizon as the first horn blast echoed across the settlement, calling the hunters and patrols back to the warmth of their hearths. With food reserves secured, medical supplies ready, fireplaces roaring, and the gates about to lock tight, the Overlord tribe stood completely prepared to endure the fury of the Great Snowfall.