Against The World

The carpenter who had spoken earlier smiled.

Eleanor pointed at him.

“You. What is your trade?”

“Carpenter.”

“Choose twelve others. Inspect every roof frame in the northern district.”

She pointed toward a group of masons.

“Check the foundations.”

Then toward the surveyors.

“Mark the eastern roads.”

Within moments, the workers scattered.

The constructs followed their assigned overseers.

No one remained unnecessary.

I looked at Mary.

“She is good at this.”

“That is why you appointed her.”

“I thought it was because she scares everyone.”

“That helps.”

The first construction unit entered the collapsed roadway. It lifted a stone block that would have required ten people to move and carried it aside.

Workers cheered.

Repairing the road took less than an hour.

Opening the quarry required three more.

The quarry itself had not collapsed as badly as feared. One access tunnel needed reinforcement, and rainwater had filled the lowest cutting, but large amounts of usable stone remained.

By sunset, wagons were moving toward the eastern district.

For the first time, construction began faster than new problems appeared.

That lasted until dinner.

One of the city’s old drainage tunnels collapsed beneath the southern tents.

Three shelters sank into the ground.

No one died.

A woman broke her arm, and several others suffered cuts, but everyone escaped before the remaining soil gave way.

The civic units detected the movement and held the ground long enough for people to evacuate.

Then the entire hillside dropped six feet.

I arrived to find a crater where sixty people had been sleeping.

Mary stood beside it.

“You nearly built the new longhouses over this.”

“I remember.”

“Thirty of them.”

“I remember that too.”

Aldren approached with his face pale.

“My survey marked this ground as stable.”

“The surface was stable,” Eleanor said.

He looked at her.

She did not remind him that she had warned him.

She did not need to.

The large construction unit stepped into the crater.

“Subsurface survey incomplete.”

“How incomplete?” I asked.

“Sixty-two percent of inhabited territory lacks current foundation records.”

“That sounds like another bad number.”

“It is bad,” Mary confirmed.

Eleanor crouched near the edge.

The collapse had exposed a brick-lined tunnel running south.

Black water moved through it.

She smelled the air and recoiled.

“Old sewer.”

I looked toward the crowded settlement.

“Is it connected to the castle?”

“Probably.”

“Oh yea? Thought you said I use that word too often.”

“I use it correctly.”

The unit’s chest rotated.

“Historical waste network available.”

Mary became interested.

“How much of it?”

“Thirty-one miles.”

I stared.

“Greykeep has thirty-one miles of sewers?”

“Thirty-one point four.”

“Of course.”

“Current operational capacity: nine percent.”

There it was.

Another problem shaped like a solution.

“Can we restore it?” I asked.

“Partial restoration recommended. Full restoration requires population survey, flow calculations, structural assessment, ventilation repair, outlet purification, and removal of obstructions.”

Melody peered into the tunnel.

“What kind of obstructions?”

“Waste deposits. Collapsed masonry. Root intrusion. Vermin.”

Something moved in the darkness.

It was large enough to disturb the black water.

Melody drew her sword.

“What kind of vermin?”

The construction unit paused.

“Classification unavailable.”

Two pale eyes opened inside the tunnel.

Then four more.

Then twelve.

I summoned the sword this time.

Behind me, Melody smiled.

“Finally.”

The creatures charged.

They resembled rats in the same way a wolf resembled a house pet.

The first was the size of a large dog. Its wet gray fur clung to its body, and two yellow teeth extended below its jaw. More shapes crowded behind it.

Melody met the first with the flat of her blade.

It flew backward into the tunnel.

“Do not kill them near the water!” Mary shouted.

“Why?”

“Because we have enough contamination!”

That was a reasonable concern.

I sent a current of air through the tunnel.

The creatures tumbled backward, claws scraping against brick.

More kept coming.

“Why are there so many?” I asked.

“Available habitat,” the construction unit said. “Abundant food. Limited predators.”

“Thank you.”

“Civic records recommend routine pest control.”

“I gathered that.”

The ground beneath us trembled.

A much larger shape moved in the darkness.

The smaller creatures scattered.

Two golden eyes rose nearly level with my chest.

Melody leaned forward.

“Now that is a rat.”

It squeezed through the tunnel.

The creature was larger than a horse.

Old scars crossed its muzzle. Broken pieces of metal and leather had tangled through its fur, forming something that almost resembled armor.

A golden Crown hung around its neck.

Not the magical mark.

A real metal crown.

It had probably found it somewhere in the ruins.

The enormous rat looked at me.

I looked at it.

It sniffed.

Then it sat.

Melody lowered her sword.

“What?”

The other rats stopped behind it.

The giant creature tilted its head.

I dismissed my sword.

Mary grabbed my arm.

“Why did you do that?”

“It stopped attacking.”

“It is still enormous.”

“That has not changed.”

I held out one hand.

The rat moved closer.

Its nose touched my palm.

The Crown glowed.

Golden light spread across the metal band around its neck.

The construction unit spoke.

“Sanitation guardian recognized.”

I slowly turned my head.

“The giant rat is a sanitation guardian?”

“Correct.”

Melody laughed so hard she had to lean against the edge of the crater.

Mary stared at the creature.

“Why would Greykeep use rats to guard sewers?”

“Waste consumption. Pest control. Intrusion detection.”

The large rat scratched one ear.

Several smaller rats gathered around its feet.

I looked at the sewage moving through the broken tunnel.

“They are supposed to be here.”

“Correct.”

“Then why did they attack?”

“Guardian network dormant. Feeding systems inactive. Population unmanaged for one hundred seventeen years.”

The large rat sniffed my coat.

“I do not have food.”

It continued sniffing.

Melody recovered enough to speak.

“You still smell like Beatrice’s kitchen.”

“That was hours ago.”

The rat nudged me hard enough to move me backward.

“Stop.”

It nudged me again.

Mary opened her bag and removed a piece of bread.

The creature turned toward her.

“No,” I said.

She hesitated.

“If you feed it now, it will follow you forever.”

“How do you know?”

“That is generally how animals work.”

The rat took one careful step toward her.

Mary gave it the bread.

The enormous creature swallowed it without chewing.

Then it sat beside her.

Melody pointed.

“You have a rat.”

“I do not.”

The rat lowered its head over Mary’s shoulder.

“You definitely do.”

Mary looked at me.

“Fix this.”

“You fed it.”

“I was preventing it from eating you.”

“I appreciate the sacrifice.”

The construction unit’s chest opened.

“Guardian master authority available.”

Mary stepped backward.

“No.”

The rat followed her.

Eleanor smiled.

“You already have experience managing unpleasant creatures.”

Mary looked at me.

“I assume she means you.”

“She could mean Melody.”

“I am pleasant,” Melody said.

“No one respond to that,” Alistair warned as he approached.

He stopped when he saw the rat.

For several seconds, no one spoke.

Alistair slowly sheathed his sword.

“I have questions.”

“So do we,” I said.

The rat nudged Mary’s bag.

She held it closed.

“You are not receiving more bread.”

It sat obediently.

I looked at the network of tunnels beneath Greykeep.

Thirty-one miles of sewers.

More than ninety percent unusable.

Thousands of people above us needed clean water, safe waste removal, and ground that would not collapse beneath their beds.

The old builders had left tools.

They had left guardians.

But neither would solve the problem alone.

We still needed plans.

Workers.

Inspections.

Food for everyone involved.

Possibly a great deal of food for the rat.

A horn sounded from the northern gate.

One long note.

Travelers.

Mary closed her eyes.

“More people?”

A runner appeared between the tents.

He was smiling.

“Supply convoy!”

Relief spread through the workers.

“How many wagons?” I asked.

“Forty-three. Grain, blankets, medicine, tools, and canvas.”

“Valewood?”

“Yes, my king.”

The runner caught his breath.

“Lady Evelyn is leading them.”

Melody looked at me.

I looked at the sewer.

She smiled.

“Do not.”

“You should clean yourself.”

“I have been repairing roads.”

“And fighting rats.”

“We did not fight this one.”

The giant sanitation guardian nudged Mary again.

Mary remained firm.

“No more bread.”

It made a low, disappointed sound.

Melody’s smile widened.

“Evelyn came back quickly.”

“Greykeep needs supplies.”

“I am sure that is the only reason.”

I climbed out of the crater.

The northern bells began to ring as Valewood’s wagons entered Greykeep.

For once, they announced something we desperately needed.

Grain.

Medicine.

Builders.

And Evelyn.

I decided not to examine why the last name made me walk faster.

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