aFireFist
A Life in Westeros
Chapter 17 - Part 2
Adian looked at Barbrey. She had the slate ready.
"The fee is the fee," Adian said. "You don't get a cut of the dock. You get a lower rate if the volume holds. If it drops, the rate goes back up. The locked space is one corner in the near warehouse, after the roof is finished. Not before. Your men report to Pell's post and to Harys. They don't collect coin off boats. They don't decide who waits. If they do either, the agreement ends."
Holt's mouth tightened, then eased. "That's fair. My lord won't like the roof delay. He'll like a dry space more."
"Then he can wait the three days. We'll have the boards on and the lock fitted. You can put your first sacks in after that. Written today. Harys witnesses. If your men miss a report, we note it. If they keep the road clear, we note that too."
Barbrey wrote while they spoke. She read the terms back once. Holt nodded at each line. Adian signed. Holt signed. Harys put his mark when he came in from the yard.
"Three days," Holt said when he stood. "I'll tell my lord the space is ready after the roof. He'll send the next train on that schedule."
"Send it," Adian said. "If the volume holds, the rate holds. If it doesn't, we talk again."
Holt left quieter than he had arrived. Barbrey set the signed page with the others.
"That's more eyes on the road," she said. "And more wool under our roof."
"That's the point. The landing doesn't earn if it only takes our own boats."
"And if Holt's men start acting like they own the stretch?"
"Then the agreement ends and they go back to waiting at the old pier. We wrote it that way."
She looked at the page a moment longer, then at him. "You're building a place other people use. That's useful. It's also more work."
"I know."
Outside, a hammer started on the warehouse roof. The sound carried through the hall, steady and thin. Adian stood.
"I'm going to walk the path ends with the crew. Then the roof. I want both started before midday."
Barbrey pulled the ledger back. "I'll have the lock ordered from Cole. He can fit it when the boards are on. Don't sink yourself in the mud. The boy will be back down after he eats. He'll want to know why the new posts are still new posts."
"I'll tell him they aren't."
He went out into the damp air. The second landing had a boat tied clean and another coming in. Men moved on the boards with room to turn. The old pier was quieter. Greywater View was larger than it had been a month ago. It was not finished. The path still flooded at the ends. The roof still leaked. But the posts were taking traffic, and a small house had just signed to keep using them.
That was the work.
They got the first of the path ends raised before the light went. The crew pulled the low boards, packed the ground higher with cut reeds and river stone, and laid fresh timber over the top. Water that had stood in the mud that morning now ran off toward the channel. Adian stayed until the second end was marked and the men knew the line. Then he walked the near warehouse.
The old patch had been stripped. Two men were already setting the first new boards on the west wall. Cole had sent a pair of hinges and a lock plate ahead of the full job. The metal sat on a crate by the door, waiting for the roof to finish.
Barbrey found him there as the hammering slowed. She had the slate under one arm and mud on the hem of her gown from the yard.
"Holt's man left a note with the gate," she said. "His lord will wait the three days. He wants the first locked sacks in as soon as the boards are on. I told the gate to send him word when it's ready, not before."
"Good."
"Path ends?"
"One raised. The other marked. They'll finish it tomorrow if the rain holds off."
She looked at the stripped roof. "We're spending the timber we have left. If the next load from the river trader is short again, the racks under the store stay on the old floor."
"Then we buy what we need for the roof and put the stone under the racks after. I'm not leaving a hole over someone's wool because we saved on boards."
Barbrey's mouth tightened, not unfriendly. "That's the disagreement. You want both finished before the next heavy rain. I want one finished and the coin for the other sitting where I can count it. Winter's closer than it was a month ago."
"The roof leaks now. The path floods now. Both cost more if we wait. We finish the roof and the path ends. The store floor gets stone when the next short load comes in whole. If it doesn't, we pull two men off the smithy for a day and set what we have."
She held his look, then nodded once. "I'll put it on the page that way. If the trader's short, you tell Cole yourself. He already thinks the store is his."
"He can think it. The floor still needs stone."
She left him with the slate and went back toward the hall. Adian stayed long enough to see the first new board nailed down. The wood was pale and dry. It would hold if the men did not rush the seams.
***
Rain came the next afternoon, hard and steady. It drummed on the new roof boards and ran off the raised path ends in thin sheets instead of standing in the old low spots. The sound was loud on the timber and softer where it hit the river. Adian walked both stretches with Harys while the water was still coming down. Mud sucked at their boots. The deeper piles at the second landing did not shift. Water broke against them and kept moving. The new path timber stayed above the flood line. One stretch of the old warehouse wall still wept where the boards had not yet reached, a dark line running down the stone. They noted it and moved on.
"Holds," Harys said. He wiped rain off his face with a wet sleeve. Water ran out of his hair and down his collar. "The ends will need another layer of stone under them before winter, but they don't flood now. A cart can pass if the man doesn't rush it."
"Mark it. We'll do the stone when the roof's finished. I want the boards on before we pull anyone for the floor."
"Aye. Crew's already saying the same. They'd rather finish one thing than stand in this."
They went back inside. The hall smelled of wet wool and woodsmoke. Cloaks dripped by the door. Barbrey had the ledgers open and a cloth under the cup so the damp would not mark the page. She looked up when they came in. Rain still clung to Adian's hair and the shoulders of his tunic.
"Roof's taking it," he said. "Path ends are holding. One weak spot left on the warehouse wall. We'll finish the boards tomorrow if the rain eases."
"And the store floor?"
"Still wants stone. Cole can set what we have after the roof. I'm not pulling men off the boards while the rain's still finding the old seams."
She made the note, quill steady. "Holt's first locked load is due the day after tomorrow. If the roof's not done, they wait. I already wrote that on the gate slate. Their man can sit in the yard until the boards are on."
"They'll wait. Tell the gate to say it plain if he asks."
The boy came down the stairs with the nurse while they were still talking. He had a crust in one hand, half-eaten, and his hair was stuck up at the back from the pillow. He stopped at the bottom step when he saw Adian's wet boots and the dark line of rain on the floor. His eyes went wide for a moment, then he came the rest of the way, careful, like the water might still be falling inside.
"Rain?" he asked. The word was small. He held the crust against his chest so it would not get wet.
"Rain," Adian said. He crouched so they were closer. "The new posts are still standing. You can see them from the hall door if you want. They're not going anywhere."
The child looked at the door, then at Adian's face, then at the door again. He went as far as the threshold on his own, one hand on the frame, and looked out at the grey water. Rain blurred the far bank. The posts were dark shapes with water breaking white around them. A boat sat tied, hull rocking slow. The boy watched for a long moment. His mouth moved like he was counting something he could not quite see.
He came back. His boots had picked up a little mud at the edge. "Boats?"
"Two tied. One waiting out in the channel. They'll move when the rain eases. The new posts are keeping them off the mud."
The child nodded, serious. He took another bite of the crust, chewed, and swallowed. "They don't fall."
"They don't fall."
That was enough for him. He reached for the nurse's hand without being told and went back upstairs, looking once over his shoulder at the wet floor like he wanted to be sure it stayed where it was. Barbrey watched him go. Her mouth had softened at the corners.
"He's asking after the posts more than the old pier," she said when the stair door shut. "He wanted to know this morning if the rain could push them over. I told him no. He didn't look convinced until he saw them."
"He sees which one has the boats."
"He sees which one you walk." She tapped the page once with the quill. "He also asked if the locked corner was for his sacks. I told him no. He accepted that faster than the rain."
Adian did not argue it. He sat and went through the rest of the day's counts with her. Fees from the second landing, lower than a dry day but still higher than the old pier alone. Timber used on the path ends and the first roof boards. The lock Cole had finished that morning, waiting on the crate by the warehouse door. It was ordinary work. The rain kept falling against the shutters. The new timber held. When they finished the page Barbrey blew on the ink and set the ledger aside.
"He'll want to go out again when it stops," she said. "If the posts are still standing he'll count them. If a boat moves he'll want to know why."
"Then we'll let him count. It's better than him asking why the roof is still open."
***
Cole brought the repaired axle up from the smithy the next morning, before the roof crew had finished the last seam. The rain had eased to a drizzle. He set the axle on the table in the yard and wiped his hands on his apron. The metal was still warm.
"Came off the green-stripe boat yesterday," he said. "Split at the hub. Used to be we'd send it downriver and wait a week for someone else's smith to say he was busy. I had the iron and the spare from the store. It's straight. It'll hold if they don't overload the cart on the way back."
Adian turned the axle in his hands. The weld was clean. The ends were true. No twist. "Put it back on their cart. Tell the captain it's ours until he pays the repair. If he argues, he can wait at the old pier until he finds the coin. I'm not chasing him for it."
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