Day 1: Afternoon and Evening
The chaotic energy of the morning address had settled into a sullen, fearful compliance. Kael did not retreat to the manor. He was a commander in the field, and his leadership had to be visible, physical, and utterly practical. The immediate priority was the water system, essential for both health (stopping the disease) and for processing the meager food source.
Kael spent the first hours of the afternoon directing the initial labor crews—drawn from the most compliant members of the Core and Contingent groups—to the river ridge. He established the work zone, demanding that they clear stones and debris to prepare the land for the diversion channel.
He then sought out Sergeant Rylen, finding the grizzled knight standing over his four men, who were sharpening their swords and complaining about the shift in duties.
Kael pulled Rylen aside, away from the grumbling men, and squatted down, scraping the contours of the ridge into the dry soil with a pointed stick.
"Sergeant, your men will guard the workers, but their primary duty for the next week is technical instruction, not patrol," Kael began. "We established that the well is fed by shallow, contaminated runoff. We are abandoning the well and instead routing water directly from the river, five hundred yards upstream from the village, using a channel that must remain entirely sealed from the ground."
Rylen frowned, looking at the distant, muddy river. "That is immense work, my lord. Our tradition is simple trench digging."
"Simple trenches are death here," Kael corrected, tapping the diagram. "The trenches must be lined with heavy stone, not just at the bottom, but the entire interior. Above that, we will construct a wooden trough—an aqueduct—supported by stone piers, running back to the village perimeter."
Kael explained the necessity of the elevation. "The river is lower than the village. We must ensure the flow maintains enough slope and velocity to reach the village, but the channel must be elevated above the surface to prevent the fine, choking ash and surface runoff from entering the water flow. This requires precise measurements and alignment, not brute force."
He then gave Rylen a critical engineering task. "I need you to take two of your most disciplined men and two capable stoneworkers from the Core group. Their job is not to build, but to measure and align the slope of the channel. The drop cannot be too steep, or the wooden troughs will crack. It cannot be too shallow, or the water will stagnate and become just as deadly as the well."
Rylen stared at the concept of precise measurement. "We use the eye, my lord. We are not scholars."
"You are now engineers," Kael insisted. "I will show you how to use a plumb-line and the length of a single pacing step to ensure a consistent, minimal drop over the distance. Precision is not magic, Rylen. It is practical geometry. Failure to maintain the proper angle will cost lives."
Kael immediately shifted the discussion, knowing he needed Rylen's full intellectual buy-in to the strategic genius of his plans.
"Now, on defense. The palisade is worse than useless. Building a true stone curtain wall takes years. We need to secure the village now, not next winter, against both the local bandits and, critically, those desperate workers who will try to steal the clean water when the aqueduct is finished."
He erased his channel sketch and, using quick, firm lines, began to describe the principles of a star fort—an alien concept to medieval warfare. He illustrated the basic geometric shape required for the perimeter defense.
"Instead of tall, single walls that create blind spots, we build low, angled bastions at the corners of the village—points, like a simplified star," Kael explained.
Kael pointed out the flaw in Rylen's existing defenses. "When an enemy attacks a straight wall, your defenders must expose themselves to see them. They can hide beneath the wall. In this design, the geometry eliminates blind spots. A soldier standing on one point can fire arrows or throw stones at anyone attacking the face of the next point. This creates interlocking, overlapping fields of fire."
Rylen stared at the elegant geometry in the dust. The traditional noble approach was height and thickness. Kael's approach used angles and simple physics to achieve greater tactical superiority with far less material and far less time.
"That… that requires no magic, my lord," Rylen murmured, recognizing the sheer tactical advantage. "It uses stone and distance."
"It uses geometry, Sergeant," Kael confirmed, his tone carrying the weight of ultimate authority. "It is efficient, and efficiency is survival. I need you to oversee the construction of the corner points, starting with the two facing the north road—the most likely avenue of attack. Use the old, scattered stones, use the rotten wood from the manor outbuildings as core fill. Teach the men how to angle the outer walls—a forty-degree slope—to deflect projectiles and prevent scaling."
Rylen looked from the drawing, to the grim, practical Baron, then back to the men waiting for orders. Kael Veynar had just dismantled centuries of conventional military practice and replaced it with a system based purely on physics and tactical analysis. Rylen was rapidly learning that he was serving under a commander, not a noble.
"My Lord Baron," Rylen said, snapping a salute that was sharper and more genuine than any he had given since Kael's arrival. "I will need the blacksmith's hammer for days, but the bastions will stand. Your geometry will be executed with precision."
Kael simply nodded. He had successfully transferred his expertise to the enforcement arm of his command. The immediate structural problem was now solved, but the immediate food problem still loomed.