Demesne 345 - The Tour (Patreon)

Once all the furs and skins were moved, the salt came next, which would have been difficult if Ravia hadn't brought a Mentalist with him. Either he remembered the difficulty we'd had last time or he had something heavy to pick up later. The woman needed to have line of sight to the barrels to be able to lift them up, but I'd had a new large hatch added to the deck. That and the mount for the heavy pulley directly over the hatch had been meant for us to lift up the barrels—we'd practiced it back home—but I was glad it wasn't needed.

Thankfully, there was no slipping or accidents. The controls for the bound tool driver had been covered up with blankets and bedrolls, meant to look like we were just being very lazy about how we did things—the exasperated expression on the Mentalist's face when she'd glanced at it meant we had probably succeeded—but it would probably be damaged a lot if the barrel had fallen on it, never mind the ice and planks below it. Ice and wood were not meant to resist a falling barrel full of what was essentially, when you thought about it, powdered rock.

It took far less time to move the salt barrels with the Mentalist's assistance.

"So," I said brightly once the last of the salt barrels had been lifted up from the hold, "I promised you a tour, didn't I? Follow me."

I led Ravia down the ladder into the deck below. "Sorry for the mess," I said, gesturing towards the pile of bedding over the bound tool controls, "but shelves don't really work as well when the ship is always swaying. Everything just falls down. Ideally we'd use chests or boxes, but…" I shrugged, "we needed the space for trade goods."

"I see," Ravia said thoughtfully. "Yes, I vaguely remember from the voyage here when I was younger. Would baskets hanging from the ceiling work?"

I blinked, titling my head thoughtfully. "Huh… you know, it would, though it can't be anything too heavy. And we'll need to put them against the walls and where we won't be walking, or else we'd be smacking our faces on them all the time. Something to remember for when we get home."

"I'm glad to be of assistance," Ravia said cheerfully. He had a very good 'cheerful'. It felt natural and not forced at all.

"Well, anyway, there we are," I said, waving at the space below the top deck. "If anyone tries building ice boats again, perhaps you can advise them on how to do it properly. As you can see here—" I indicated at the gap between two wall planks that was filled in with perfectly clear ice, "—sorry, you have to bend down a little… we have beams of wood running though the ice of the hull for reinforcement, giving the hull structural strength."

"Ah, yes, I see what you mean," Ravia said, bending down as I had indicated. The sun was out now, meaning there was enough light outside that the inside of the ship was lit up from what was passing though the clear ice's gaps.

"Ideally, you'd mix sawdust into the ice for more reinforcement, but we couldn't do that because we needed the sawdust for other things," I exposited. "Here though, there's so many carpentry workshops that someone would be able to just ask for sawdust for their boat, at least until the carpenters catch on. And probably not even then. The downside is that it would be a lot darker in here, since the ice wouldn't be so clear."

"I admit, when I head of a boat made of ice, I expected the inside to be cold," Ravia said. "It's actually very warm in here."

I nodded. "Yes, people keep thinking that. The ice is held together by a binding that keeps it solid, and as a result it doesn't take in heat. So the ice actually helps maintain the temperature. If you want to keep something hot or cold for a long period of time, putting them in a box of bound ice is a good idea, as long as the ice stays bound."

"I'll have to remember that," Ravia said. "And these are?"

He indicated our cargo boxes, still sheathed by a layer of darkwisps.

"Ah, that's something our Dungeon Binder came up with to try and keep Iridescence from damaging our goods without glass. Did you know that Iridescence doesn't grow in, on or through ice?"

Ravia blinked. "It doesn't?"

I shook my head. "I mean, it makes sense. Ice is basically solid water, after all. But we can't exactly use a box of ice." I paused. "Well, we can, but it'll be a bit fragile. However, darkwisps also keep out Iridescence, it's just not used for the purpose because the enshrouding has to be total, and you can't see through it, so using it to protect yourself from Iridescence is impractical, especially for someone who's not a Dungeon Binder."

Ravia nodded. "I take it then that your Dungeon Binder found a way to combine these two aspects somehow?"

I nodded. "You can't see because of the darkwisps but there are wooden boxes in there. The darkwisps keeps the Iridescence out, and our Dungeon Binder keeps it imbued from our demesne. To prevent Iridescence from coming up from underneath, it's raised up on blocks of ice."

"Which doesn't allow the colors to grow or pass through it," Ravia said, nodding again in understanding. "It sounds simple when put that way."

"It's not perfect," I said. "Once we're out of a demesne, we can't put anything in the box or take it out, or else Iridescence would get in with our arms. So in practical terms, it's in essence a sealed glass box."

"A glass box that can be any size, and made with materials far cheaper than the cost of glass," Ravia pointed out.

"That's true," I agreed, "but I'm not sure how well it would work when mounted on a wagon. Most methods of locking the boxes in place would allow a way for the colors to get through the protection of the darkwisps. Speaking of which, do you know who's publishing the almanac? My Dungeon Binder gave me permission to send the idea to them for submission."

"They explain the submission procedures at the back of the almanac, I believe."

"Unfortunately, my Dungeon Binder never lets me read it. Which is fair, because if I had a book to read I'd never get anything done, but still…" I shook my head. "Anyway, here are our beds. They fold up against the walls so we have space to eat and other things during the day. It's something we use back at home since houses are still pretty small."

"Ah, yes. I've encountered the same in some of the demesne I've traded at, although it's not often down here. Many walls are too weak to hold the weight."

"That's… unfortunate." It really was. "Well, that's everything."

"What about that door there?" Ravia said, nodding to the closed door at the front of the ship.

"I'm afraid its contents are private," I said. "Sorry. But it's really just a small room."

Ravia glanced towards it. "A pity. I was hoping to see how your boat moved as it did."

"Whispering," I said. "Although I'd afraid I can't share how it works. Not a wizard. Sorry. However, speaking of negotiation… "

"Ah, yes, your mysterious product of which you are offering me the chance to be the exclusive distributor," Ravia said, looking amused. "You know, a man in my position might be inclined to be resentful at being denied."

"Would a mican make you feel better?" I said, reaching into the mican jar—bigger than a sack, smaller than a barrel—and pulling one out to offer it to him.

Ravia smiled, but took the fruit. "Oh? Are you conceding our wager already?"

"Not at all. But I figured you'd enjoy a mican," I said, sitting down at one of the folding beds that doubled as benches and gestured for him to sit opposite me.

"Well, you're not wrong…" Ravia said, but put the mican in his belt pouch. "I hope you don't mind if I save it for later." He sat down.

"It's your mican," I said, reaching into my belt pouch and feeling around for a bead with no markings. "Anyway, I'd like you to take a look at this."

Ravia held out his hand, and I placed the wispbead on it. He raised an eyebrow for a moment, his smile widening slightly before he blinked and actually looked at the bead, rolling it around in his hand. I sat back, waiting for him to speak first.

Eventually, he said, "This bead is far too big," he said slowly, finally looking up from the bead to meet my gaze.

"Is it?" I said, keeping a polite, 'I'm listening' expression on my face.

"The only way to smooth a bead like this is to use it to imbue a bound tool or for a Whisperer to swallow and either regurgitate or pass it."

I twitched. "I did not need that latter part pointed out!"

Ravia chuckled. "It's not as if beads can be digested. But as I was saying, this bead is perfectly smooth but it's too big."

"Oh? Do tell," I said, my expression going back to 'listening politely'.

The merchant's gaze narrowed slightly. "All demesne issue beads that are two and a half yustri in diameter, but that's at their widest points, which includes the denomination imprints on it. For a bead to become smooth would reduce it to less than that."

"Fascinating."

Ravia rolled the bead around in his hand again. "Even if this is real, it wouldn't be considered legal tender. It's very unlikely that another demesne would accept it, and Covehold Demesne has made their position on what beads maybe be used as currency clear."

"Legal tender? Why would you even think of such a thing?" I said brightly. "Didn't I say this was a product that would be in high demand? I know that the workshops I visited yesterday were ecstatic that they could use their bound tools again."

The bead stopped rolling around in his hand. "That is presuming these are, in fact, wispbeads and not simply glass."

I shrugged. "I'm sure you have Whisperers in your employ. You can have them swallow one and let them try to use it for Whispering, but it would be simpler it you let them anchor a binding, touch metal to it, and touch the bead to the metal to imbue the binding. Less regurgitating and passing would be involved. Besides, why would I waste glass on something like this? Glass is expensive. If we had glass, we’d sell it market value."

Ravia made a gesture that was part shrug and part nod, acknowledging the point. “I will need to have this checked back at the house,” he said.

“I’ll come with you,” I said cheerfully. “We can get our salt and skins assessed while we’re at it.”

“Wha—Oh! Yes, yes, we can.” Ravia shook his head, still staring at the bead in his hands.

“Could you give that back, by the way?” I said, holding out my hand. “I wouldn’t want that misplaced.”

It was with clear reluctance that Ravia gave me back the wispbead, actually staring as I slipped it back into my pouch.

“That’s rude, you know,” I said as I made sure my belt pouch had been properly shut.

Ravia flinched, a chagrinned look on his face. “Sorry. I have no excuse.”

“It’s fine,” I said, waving a hand as if to wipe the whole thing away. Then I grinned. “So… should I take it to mean you’re impressed?”

The merchant blinked, then chuckled. “Even if it is fake… the audacity is certainly impressive,” he said.

“No, none of that! No conditional victories. I won’t settle for it. You’re either impressed or I owe you a mican.”

“Then… let us see what Endlew thinks back at the house.”

I nodded. That was presumably one of their Whisperers. “I can wait that long. And to show I’m a good sport about it, I’ll even bring the mican along.”

Ravia laughed.