CH485 · Rewrite
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Chapter 485: The Day of Leaving

“Here comes the ship.”

A sail crested the gray horizon, pale against pale. No other merchant vessels were in sight—it had to be one of Sleeping Island’s.

“Uh-huh.” Tilly’s reply was soft, nearly swallowed by the sound of water washing over the shoals. Her back was to Roland.

“I really didn’t want to leave.” Andrea reached up to hold her stray hair against the sea wind. “I’ve no idea if I can make ice cream bread half as good as yours back on Sleeping Island.”

Roland had given her the recipe along with the bolt rifle. “As long as you have eggs and milk, it won’t taste too bad. When you come back to Border Town—no, City of Neverwinter—I’ll have something even better waiting.”

“Even better than ice cream?” She laughed. “You’d better mean that. I have your word.”

“If you’re so reluctant to leave, stay,” Ashes said, spreading her hands. “Princess Tilly won’t mind leaving a glutton like you behind. They certainly don’t let you eat your fill on Sleeping Island.”

“Is that so?” Andrea fixed her with a stare. “Then I won’t share any ice cream with you when we return. Dried fish and fishy soup for you, every single day.”

The sailboat drew steadily closer as they bickered. The pink flag at the top of the mast—the Charming Beauty’s colors.

Shavi summoned her invisible barrier, using it to ferry books, goods, and supplies between the shoal and the ship without need of docking, and then carried the card-playing three and Princess Tilly across the water. But as Tilly stepped into the barrier, Roland called her name.

She turned. Her eyes held a complex mixture of things he couldn’t quite read. “What?”

He had stopped her without any plan for what to say. He took a breath and raised his voice over the surf: “If you run into difficulties on Sleeping Island—any kind—you can tell me. I’ll do what I can. And you are always welcome in the City of Neverwinter.”

A pause. Then Tilly smiled, small and real. “Thank you. And you too.”

“Goodbye, everyone!” Andrea and Shavi called out, waving. Ashes said nothing and simply raised her hand.

The barrier carried the witches across to the Charming Beauty and the ship began to recede.

“What’s wrong?” Nightingale asked from somewhere behind him. “You didn’t want them to leave?”

“I just think it’s a pity. Three hundred witches—it would be something, if they all settled in the Western Region.” He kept his voice deliberately casual.

“Yeah. And then you’d feel even more guilty about it.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“Guilty?” The word landed with a small jolt of alarm.

“Why should he feel guilty? Living here is better than living on Sleeping Island, isn’t it?” Anna sounded genuinely confused.

“You wouldn’t understand even if I explained it.” Nightingale turned and walked toward the hot air balloon. “And that’s the most irritating part.”

Roland watched her go. Something in him eased. She had been absent for two days—withdrawn, unreachable—and now she was back to her old self. He let himself exhale.

“Come on. There’s plenty to do,” Wendy said, smiling.

“Right.” He and Anna fell into step together, hands joined, walking toward Cloud Gazer.


Back in his office, Roland opened his notebook and turned his attention to the year ahead.

Two priorities, clearly ahead of everything else.

The first: dethrone Timothy and stop the distribution of the Berserk Pills to the populace. Beyond ending the harm, it would expand Roland’s standing throughout Graycastle and lay the groundwork for unification.

The second: absorb Longsong Stronghold as quickly as possible and bring the City of Neverwinter’s construction to full speed.

He had discussed the first matter at length with Iron Axe, Carter, and Theo in King’s City. They had settled on a spring offensive at the end of April—which was at the end of this month. It was plowing season across most of Graycastle, a constraint that would bind the traditional nobility far more than it would bind the First Army. A professional force could march while the nobles were watching their fields; if the army appeared suddenly at the walls of King’s City, Timothy would have no time to prepare.

The steam engine plant, the ammunition factory, the concrete boat yard—all running at full output for the campaign. Logistics at full stretch, the City Hall with enough staff, the First Army battle-hardened. Roland had a clear picture of every resource and its deployment. He wasn’t worried about either objective.

The immediate question was what to do with Longsong Stronghold’s assets.

He sent for Barov.

“Have you finished cataloging the industries of Longsong Stronghold and the surrounding territories?”

Barov produced a notebook. “It’s all here, Your Highness. The primary income stream is mining, and within that the gem mine dominates—there is a high-quality deposit to the west of the Stronghold, near the Impassable Mountain Range. Its output alone accounts for more than half of the Stronghold’s total income.”

“A gem mine?” Roland had no particular interest in luxury goods. “Isn’t there a gem deposit in the North Slope Mine as well? The town didn’t look especially prosperous the last time I visited.”

“They are not comparable, Your Highness.” Barov rubbed his hands together, warming to the subject. “The North Slope gems are byproducts of other veins—quantities are small, and when cut, many won’t meet the standard for jewelry. The Stronghold deposit is different. Colorful stones grow across the prism in abundance, and each one can be made into a high-quality multicolored stone without difficulty. The gems sell for dozens of gold royals apiece in King’s City. Output and quality both far exceed the North Slope.”

“A multicolored stone—what does it look like?”

“Generally transparent, with no fixed color. It catches the light and splits it, showing everything from light green to orange-red, multiple colors at once when cut. More like crystallized sunlight than a conventional ruby or sapphire.” Barov paused. “The multicolored stone of Graycastle, the Ice Stone of the Kingdom of Everwinter, and the luminary stone of the Kingdom of Dawn—those are the most coveted gems among the nobility.”

A ring for Anna, perhaps. The thought arrived before Roland could stop it. He set it aside: gem mines had limited relevance to the welfare of his subjects. “What other mineral resources?”

“The Maple Family and the Wild Rose Family each control an iron ore mine,” Barov said, “but both are smaller than the North Slope.”

The domains of those two families are ringed by the Impassable Mountain Range. Roland tapped his pen against the notebook. Those mountains crossed all four kingdoms—the geology must be rich. He would have to explore along the base of the range with Sylvie, find ore reserves sufficient for the City of Neverwinter’s industrial needs. Steel was the backbone of everything he was building.

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