Chapter 15: Broken Things In Need Of Mending

Landar

The streets I walked were familiar in their layout, and much of what I was seeing I had partially grown up with here in Vlane.

The streets were wide, and cobbled. The buildings tall, and atop them was the familiar shape of the water tower and pump mechanisms that were a hallmark of the low class tenements.

Small chimneys came from the top apartments, where the more privileged lived, and were allowed to bake bread for themselves and those in their building for a modest fee. And the petty market stalls outside each building allowed for those who were disabled, or retired to work. Selling slightly marked up goods they purchased from the larger markets and brought to their community providing convenience and receiving a small fee for their efforts. Or selling their own home made goods from their rough made plank wood stalls.

All of which came together in my memory to create a healthy, if sometimes struggling community.

But apart from the structural similarities to the peasant tenements the drudge quarters were vastly different.

No smoke came from the top floors. Windows were not carefully cleaned here, what few remained were stained with soot and ash, or fouler things. Most of them were broken, covered over by hastily slap dash wood panels, and cloth barriers that hardly protected form the wind let alone snow and rain. What existed of the petty markets were usually poorly maintained cookfires with large pots of dubious stew simmering in them. The elderly and disabled among the drudges had just started bringing them back to live, in anticipation of the first work gangs getting off duty.

The few people that were around had their eyes cast down, refusing to speak in anything but a whisper as they congregated in their ones and twos in back alleys or stoops.

Most of the people are gone to the work gangs, I thought as I side stepped a pile of what I hoped was horse dung. Everyone has to work from sun-up to sun-down, even most of the children. Speaking of children.

I spied several giggling urchins about two blocks previously that had picked up my trail and were following me in what must have passed for ‘fun’ here in the drudge quarter. A game of hide and seek, I was pretty sure would lead to them stealing my bag of coins if I let them get too close.

Not that I'd blame them. I have enough in my bag to pay for them to get an education, and become peasants. Them and their parents. Sadly, that money is spoken for. But . . . Yeah. Something is going to have to change. Poverty is one thing, struggling to make ends meet while you work your tail off? A tale as old as time in both worlds I've lived in. Everyone has their struggles. This though . . . this is what Marx must have meant by wage slavery.

I winced at giving that old lunatic even an ounce of credit. But even a half blind mad man could see this was inhumane. I shook my head, and turned the now familiar corner, and my heart dropped even further. I had seen the sight before of course, but it seemed to get worse with every visit.

Apple Core Court, a trio of three tenements on a small ridge line that contained half a dozen other ‘courts’ was at a glance the worst of the lot. Even from this distance I could tell all the windows were gone, the paint wasn’t just peeling off the side of the building, but had been stripped. Only small half moldy patches still clung to the bottom most floors. The roofs of two of the buildings had essentially been caved in on the top floor, and there visible, deep cracks ran along the foundations of all of them.

Only two people were outside the buildings mingling by the trio of large stew pots at the center of the ‘court’.

I quickly took the crumbling stone steps that lead up to the road that ran up and down the ridge line, connecting all of the ‘courts’ together as they towered over the rest of the drudges quarter. I could hear the disappointed murmuring from the kids behind me. I even heard one sob as the mass of children mingled at the bottom of the stairs, only to quickly scatter when I looked back down from the top.

I’ll have to bring them something next time. They all look half starved.

I turned towards the two ‘cook’s and walked their way. “Hello '' I said cheerfully. There were two of them. One was missing a leg, and was getting around on a stick that had been poorly whittled to act as a kind of crutch. He looked to be in his mid thirties. The other was an old man. His nose was crooked from being broken too many times, and he had an obvious tick. Shuttering as he simply stood over the small fire and large stew pot it attempted to bring to a boil.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

“Aye me’lord.” The old man said, as he kept his eyes on the pot in front of him.

“M-m-me’lord! What can we’be doin for ye?” Their accent was thick, and sounded suspiciously British-cockney to me for some reason which shocked me. “Have one ah du kids been up to some theiven again? I’ll tan their hides good I will, you just leave it to me me’lord.”

I could see the fear in his eyes. Not for himself, but the children who were, even now, climbing among the rubble and playing in the ruins of the higher floors of the three buildings.

“No, no. Nothing like that. At ease.” I said it more like an order than a suggestion and both men stared at me in confusion. Right, the closest thing they’ve had to military training was probably when the fighting spilled over into their quarter during the rebellion.

“Please, be at ease. My name is Landar. I’ve been assigned to help get your housing back in shape.”

“Oh, so you’re one of those fancy enginar’s?” The elderly man asked, as he moved his head so his one good eye could get a better look at me. The other was clouded and gray.

Cataracts probably, I thought annoyed. An easy fix back home. And an even easier one here with some basic healing magic.

“Engineers, and no. I’ve been assigned by my, grandfather, who works with the ArchDuke, to help organize and fix things up. But first, I kind of need to know how you currently are living in these buildings. Would one of you care to show me around?”

“Bah!” The elderly man said. “You’re just another one of them do nothin’s comin around to speak a lot of good words, and never fixes nothin. Show yourself around for all I care.”

“Please me’lord, forgive Old Sidrin. He’s just grumpy cause his knees are aching from the cold. Let me show you sir.” The younger man made his way towards me quickly, almost in a panic to try and redirect my attention away from his friend. Too quickly.

Before I could react his makeshift crutch slipped on the ice.

DASH! I shouted into my mind to the mind spirit, and almost instantly my core was pumping out mana and chie into my legs. Half a heartbeat later I had grabbed him and stopped him from falling. My shoes had a minor enchantment to prevent me from falling on the ice, so where he slipped I did not.

CRUNCH!

“Oh no.” I said as I felt my hip break his crutch in half going at incredible speed.

“Ah, that’s a shame. That was me good walkin stick.” He said as I placed him gently down on the ground. I kneeled next to him and examined the break.

“I’m sorry.”

“Rather the stick break then my face, if i’m honest me’lord.”

“Fair enough but, still. You need it right?” He looked embarrassed but nodded.

“Right. Give me a second.” I grabbed both ends and examined the break. It was clean, and the wood was still firm and usable. I pulled out my knife, and whittled a notch on either side of the break so they would fit nicely together. It took me only a minute or so, the wood was easy to carve. When I placed them back together again, I could tell they’d not hold. It was a thin stick to begin with.

“Hmm. Alright then.” I pulled over my satchel and began rummaging around looking for a piece of metal from one of my failed gadget experiments. It was just a piece of copper, nothing too extravagant or expensive. But with a little mana, and the right rune . . .

First, I used my ax head to carve a small heat, and a binding rune into the plate. Then, I poured a trickle of mana into the metal and it quickly heated. The trick was to ensure it was an even heat, so no part of it would expand faster than the rest. Funneled through the heat rune, the mana quickly did its work.

As it started getting too hot for my hands, I placed the plate right on the break. “Normally, I'd have protective gloves, or I'd have cast a heat resistance spell first. But, since it's my mana I'm somewhat naturally resistant to the heat anyway. Even that has limits though,” I explained as I then used my ax to smooth out the still heating metal on the stick, wrapping the plate around the notch.

When it had cooled, I then infused the wood with my mana, hardening the wood and reinforcing it so it wouldn’t break as easily.

I helped the younger man up, and gave him the newly improved crutch.

“A miracle,” the younger man said, awe in his voice.

Sidrin snorted. “Ain't no miracle Kai. That there’s magic. Plain and simple magic.” Sidrin’s sneer hadn’t gone away, but from the tone in his voice I could tell he was reevaluating me.

“Might as well be one of the Mothers Graces itself!” Kai leaned on the crutch and smiled from ear to ear. “it's not even bending. I can’t tell you how many blisters I got from this thing pinching when it bent too much. Thank you me’lord. It's a mighty fine gift for a drudge sir. I don’t have any coin, but if there’s something I can do to help, I will.”

“How about that tour?”

“Right! Be happy to sir. Happy too. Follow me,”

I have a feeling that won't be the only thing I'm going to have to mend by the end of the day, I thought wryly. I quickly fell into step beside the crippled Kai, and listened as he told me everything he knew about Apple Core Court.