Demesne 49 - Other Business (Patreon)

While Lori had to expand her Dungeon, there were still other things she had to do to keep her demesne functioning. Doing maintenance on the wisps she'd bound, making minor repairs to the stone walls of the houses she'd made because the stonemasons had needed to gouge out a divot or something to fit the roof more securely, double-checking on things like the water temperature in the baths or the amount of light her bound lightwisps were generating so they wouldn't be blinding… things of that nature.

A lot of it was tedious, minor matters that took up more time walking to them than actually doing them. It was frustrating. She felt there should be a way for these things to maintain themselves. Technically, she could do many of them without needing to move to where they were, but as Rian had said, some things she actually needed to perceive to adjust properly. The firewisps in the water could make it hot, and she could maintain those at a distance, but she needed to actually see and feel the result to be able to know if the water was dangerously scalding hot. And the lightwisps needed to be adjusted according to the time of day, since it would be hard for many to sleep if she kept them shining all night.

It was something she could probably get better at adjusting remotely, with practice, but it was occasionally frustrating she had to do it at all. Surely not all Dungeon functions had to be manually supervised daily? Was this what wizards employed by the Dungeon Binder really do? Just…go around all over the Dungeon, adjusting wisp outputs and settings, so the Binder didn't have to do it, like working-student part-timers? That was… that was…

That was a horrifically plausible scenario, Lori realized, to her mounting dread.

"So, I've been thinking," Rian said, breaking Lori out of her terrifying reverie. "Could you make wheels?"

Lori glanced at him. "Did you hit your head?" she said. "Of could I can make wheels. How do you think we got here?"

"Sorry, wrong question," Rian said. "Would you please make some wheels? We've got a lot of stone for it, and I think we might be needing some kind of handcart soon, if only to make emptying the latrines more sanitary and less malodourous. Most of the ground's firm enough you shouldn't have to pave it… and even as I say it I'm starting to think of places it could do with a little paving."

"If people want paving, they could put it all down themselves. I'll give them the rock," Lori said.

"You mean 'rocks', right?"

"No, rock. They'll get one big rock, they have to quarry the paving stones themselves."

"Ah. Well, it's better than a single small rock, I suppose," he said.

"I'll see if I can make some while working on the curing shed," Lori said.

"No, you get some rest," Rian said. "It's not urgent yet."

"Then why bring it up?"

"I wanted to tell you before I forgot about it," he explained.

"See, that's what happens when you waste your memory on remembering names. You don't see me having problems forgetting important things," Lori said.

Rian looked at her sideways. "When was the last time you did your laundry?"

Lori opened her mouth to reply… then paused, trying to remember.

"Laundry's not important," she declared.

"As the one who sits closest to you during meals, I beg to differ."

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Lori resigned herself to needing to do her laundry later that night. She supposed it was about time to change clothes anyway. No matter how hard-wearing her clothes were, being made of tough cloudbloom, there was a limit, and she didn't want to have to go around wearing rags. That would be bad for her dignity as the Dungeon Binder.

She made a note to see how well weaving ropeweed into fabric was doing. They should have enough threads by now, right?

She sat on a pile of compressed dirt next to one of the curing sheds filled with cut lumber, overseeing the bindings of air-, water-, fire- and lightningwisps needed to cure the wood quickly, having just finished inspecting the temperature so the wood wouldn't warp or catch fire. The large tree trunk Rian intended to hollow out into a boat lay not too far away, in its own binding. It seemed a waste to cure the whole trunk if they were just going to burn and hollow it out, but this was Rian's project, and the outrigger they'd made for Lori's Boat had already proven the concept.

Lori listened to the comforting sounds of wood being sawed through as today's latest tree was cut to size. The last curing shed was being opened with some regularity to keep putting new planks in, which was why she had to be present to keep adjusting the bindings to deal with the altering heat, humidity, and so that people wouldn't die from the lightningwisps. This occupied her for the rest of the afternoon as she regularly went from shed to shed, examining the wood and adjusting the bindings.

She was adequate at this, if she did say so herself. Very few of her planks came out split or warped, and the thick blocks the carpenters were asking for so they could make pulleys and other tools were cured all the way through in only a few hours.

Lori had to do this several times already, as their new arrivals proved themselves much more adept at building than her original people. Rian attributed it to their militia experience, since their original demesne before they'd left for this new continent had apparently used their militia as a mobile engineering brigade to deal with blocked roads, landslides, avalanches, collapsed bridges and other excitements. They had a lot of experience with building.

Needless to say, they went through the wood in the curing sheds quickly, meaning more wood had to quickly be cured by force. Fortunately, they had their own sawyers, and so the number of sawpits cutting, and the number of curing sheds, had increased to accommodate the new demand, even with one of the sawyers taking his saw (and wife and family) to River's Fork.

As the day drew to a close, the day's wood was all loaded inside the sheds, and Lori was finally able to stabilize the conditions inside so she could set the wood to cure overnight. Which didn't mean they'd be unwatched. A shed had been set up for a few men to sleep near the wood in case of fire, with buckets of sand and water just in case. Lori was confident enough in her skill that this was probably unlikely, but she'd rather not lose several sheds worth of wood, so there they were.

As the men talked and joked and congratulated each other on a day's work, Lori went to do her rounds, adjusting he brightness of lightwisps in the shelters and the dining hall-turned-shelter now that the natural light was fading, increasing the amount of water that was being drawn from the river to the baths because of the sudden influx of bathers, and then adjusting the firewisps heating the water to account for the increased volume.

Rian passed her and gave her a nod, informing her that all the children were accounted for and back from seeling before he continued on to whatever else he was doing.

Only then did she head back to the Dungeon, bind and will the stone blocking the way to her new rooms to move aside, and head up to her bedroom to take a bath.

She sighed as she sat naked on the stone bench along one wall of her private bath and let the bathwater, pulled from the river, to wash over her from above. The water was warm, of course, and it felt good after a long, sweaty day of work. Willing the flow to cease with a thought– why bother with plumbing fixtures when you had Whispering?– Lori grabbed her river rock, smeared some soap on it, and started to scrub herself down. After a long day, it felt good to get clean. Especially in private, where it was peaceful and quiet, and she didn't have to put up with anything.

Still, even in this solitude, her mind couldn't help but wander to the things she still had to do. Finish excavating the new level. Put in ventilation tubes and bind airwisps to keep the air moving, and keep the temperature even as well. Put in the sleeping spaces and new emergency bath and latrine facilities. Dig out a new water reservoir, one that, at Rian's suggestion, would be above the facilities meant to use it so the water would flow because of gravity instead of waterwisps. Check the progress of the fixtures that they'd be using for this, since she didn't want her Dungeon to leak. Make drainage, for when it inevitably doesleak. Start the underground farm as soon as possible, so they'd have more winter reserves. Build wheels for carts to lug around the dirt the farm would need, since using earthwisps to move soil tended to ruin the soil…

Lori realized she was just sitting there, her rock motionless. Instead of going back to scrubbing herself. she let the rock fall, and it narrowly missed her foot as it clattered on the stone floor of her bath. She watched as water moved towards the drainage hole she'd made, which was covered by a stone grill to keep things from falling in.

She felt sotired…

For a moment, she considered just… sleeping. Just sitting there in her bath, naked, and going to sleep. And when she woke up, she wouldn't go downstairs. She'd put on new, clean clothes, lie down on her bed of dirty laundry, and then sleep some more. She thought of doing that for several days. Just stay curled up in bed and let Rian handle everything…

One hand came up and slapped herself soundly across the face. Then she did it again for good measure.

Lori stood up, and a part of her noted how little her body jiggled as she moved. Was that more muscle, or just loss of fat?

Bending over, she picked up her rock and determinedly continued scrubbing. Methodically, systematically, she scrubbed every part of her body with soap, water, and her rock.

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"Hey," Rian greeted her as she finally came down from her room, dressed in fresh clothes and dry socks. "What kept you? Anything I need to worry about?"

Lori waved away his worries as she sat down. "I'm fine," she said.

Rian tilted his head. "Well, if you say so," he said. "So, I've got good news and better news."

"Oh?"

Rian nodded enthusiastically, his smile wide and for once not making her want to rip it off. "The foragers found a bunch of hairy blueball trees, and brought back a bunch," he said. "So we have that with dinner tonight. And NOT in the stew, I made sure to specify that."

Lori perked up slightly. "That is good news. What's the better one?"

"Those hairy blueball seeds I've been collecting finally germinated," he said. "So, uh, I was wondering if we can start growing half in the Dungeon? So we don't lose them all when a dragon comes along?"

Lori rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll make some pots, you can move them in the morning. Try not to get dirt everywhere."

"Yes, your Bindership!"

He was so disproportionately happy about having some fruit seeds start to sprout. Honestly, her lord was such a child sometimes.

"It will be your responsibility to water them and keep them fertilized," she continued. "At the very least, you have to assign someone to do it. I'm merely allowing you the space and lightwisps to grow them."

This time he rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother," he said.

She reached over and flicked him in the forehead, making him start. "No talking back to you mother," she said blandly. "Now, go get dinner."

"Yes, mother."

She raised a hand to flick him again, but he was already slipping off the bench to get the food with a laugh. Shaking her head– such a child– Lori put her elbows on the table and closed her eyes, listening to the slightly echoing sounds of a flourishing demesne.

Her demesne.