“Let me get this cluster out of the way and get the wagons up to the forge. I assume you brought all your tools with you?”
“And spare anvils and a small forge,” Suwisa replied. “And all of Phil’s beekeeping supplies.”
“Forges and anvils we have, tools we’re lacking. And hives for that matter. We’re going to have to have a long talk.”
As he and a group of the newly forming guard force opened a path for the wagons, Edmund considered the priceless asset that had arrived.
He had known Suwisa for at least seventy-five years and had occasionally considered asking her to become his “apprentice.” The problem with that was that by the time they became friends she was a master smith in her own right. He knew things about forming metal that she did not, but the reverse was also true and the level of his “mastery” over hers was an incremental thing. Just as an example, he mostly worked in “hot” forging with metal heated to brightness whereas she generally used preformed plates for “cold forging.” He was undeniably superior at the first while she had a slight edge on him in the latter. She also concentrated on plate armor and decorative works while he specialized in blades. So it was more a matter of complementary styles than superior/inferior.
In the end he decided that if no appropriate apprentice made an appearance by the time he was getting too old to work the forge, he would probably “gift” it to her, along with Carborundum. He was pretty sure that they would get along, and judicious soundings had indicated that she had very few reservations about AI’s.
But with the Fall and his increasing responsibilities, he had despaired of having anyone come along who could take over the training of the new smiths. Smithing was nearly as vital as farming in a preindustrial economy and the number of tools that they were going to need prior to the beginning of the planting season was staggering.
Furthermore, he knew that his personality was not at the best teaching raw newcomers to the trade, especially ones he hadn’t carefully chosen. Suwisa was much more patient with the sort of hamhandedness he had been despairing of this morning.
He got the wagons up to the back side of town, just short of his house, left them with a couple of the guards and one of the pair’s grown children, and led the couple up to the house. Suwisa looked at the expanded sheds and whistled.
“How many smiths do you have in this place now?”
“One,” Edmund replied bitterly. “I’m the only one who has made it in yet, except you. I know that there were more in walking distance of the Mill, but some of the other communities are forming up as well and I guess they made it to them. Or they were on the other side of the world when the Fall hit.”
“Who all has made it here?” Phil asked.
“If you mean of ‘our’ crowd, quite a few. But… well… you know most reenactors. They don’t, actually, know diddly-shit about period life. Or, for that matter, preindustrial technology. And they’re all happy to swing swords for a bit but then they want their meals served on silver platters.”
“I won’t disagree on that, but this is tough,” Suwisa said. “Taking a few weeks to travel by wagon and sleep on the ground for fun is one thing. Having to do it for survival is another.”
“I know,” Edmund said, leading the way into his house. He waved them into chairs around the fire then poked it back to life and pulled out a jug of cider that had been warming by the coals. When he had them comfortable he continued.
“I know that things are tough,” he continued. “But until one faction or the other of the Council wins, this is what life is going to be. And we have to make it as ‘good’ as we can within these parameters.”
“Or until one side gives up,” Suwisa said, taking a sip of the cider.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Edmund replied. “Paul is in too deep and is too… fanatical I guess is the best word. And Sheida thinks the world, even as devastated as it has become, would be worse off under Paul’s unrestricted control.”
“I don’t know that I fault her there,” Phil agreed. “We heard some really weird rumors on the way over here.”
“You mean about Paul Changing people to fit the conditions of the Fall better?” Edmund asked. “We’ve heard the same. But it’s always somebody’s brother who heard it from somebody else.”
“Doesn’t Sheida know?” Suwisa asked.
“I haven’t talked to her in two weeks, so I don’t know if she does or not.”
“So what do you want us to do?” Phil asked.
“Well, in Suwisa’s case I want her to take over training all the apprentices and turning out metalwork,” Edmund admitted. “I’m up to my ass in alligators every day and I have neither the time nor the patience to handle a gaggle of apprentices.”
“Mallory and Christopher can help with that as well,” Suwisa said with a nod.
“Right now it’s all farm implements,” Edmund warned. “Real blacksmithing. But in time we’re going to need armor and swords. I’m still working on the guard force but the plan is to produce a professional military as well. And there’s a training program starting so you’re going to have to set up an orientation to blacksmithing, basically what the job of an apprentice is and a few tricks for farmers. Most of the people going through the orientation are going to end up farming.”
“All right, and how do I get paid?” Suwisa asked.
“Right now the basis of what currency we have is food chits. You can use them to trade for meals in the chow-halls or you can get raw food to cook yourself. We’ll figure out something equitable for your training time and, of course, you’ll get paid for your finished materials. We haven’t really got an economy beyond that and it’s all based on Myron’s supplies.”
“This is going to be fun,” Phil said. “That’s an inflationary economy if I’ve ever heard of one.”
“Well, yes and no. Most people get three food chits per day. If they starve themselves they have ‘extra’ money. Skilled artisans get four for days spent working on communal projects, and they can try to find materials to trade for more. But there’s not much surplus floating around. So far, by restricting the chits we’re both controlling the food supply, which is really important, and keeping the economy noninflationary. Sooner or later we’ll get large enough we have to come up with a better system, but for right now it’s working. There are too many other problems for me to want to knock it.”
“Such as?” Suwisa said.
“You’ve heard about the bandits?”
“There was a group of five guys who tried to, I don’t know, hold us up?” Phil said. “They had a few sticks and a knife. We pulled out three swords and a crossbow. They lost interest really quick.”
Edmund chuckled for a moment then shook his head. “One of the things I’m worried about is that the small communities have all the food, and other goods but right now food is paramount. Sooner or later the bandit gangs are going to start banding together and attacking the towns. I want to be ready for them before they do.”
“If there’s one thing that reenactors can do it’s swing a sword,” Suwisa said with a gesture in the general direction of the town.
“Not as well as they think they can and that assumes they have them,” Edmund said with a frown. “Most of them started out from wherever they came from with a sword or a bow or a glaive of some sort. And most of them left them somewhere as well. They’re heavy, don’t you know?”
“Damn,” Phil said, shaking his head.
“And, frankly, I’d rather have raw recruits than most reenactors with live blades. We’re going to form a militia and everyone is going to learn at the minimum to defend themselves. But I want a professional military at the core. Two tiered for right now, longbow and line infantry, the line infantry based loosely on Roman legions.”