"It's... fascinating, although it will delay the construction of the castle to inscribe those runes on every brick. We've already had to discard thousands of pieces," Qyburn looked at a small wall measuring two feet by two feet. It was a simple demonstration. But that small piece contained something that Westeros had not seen in centuries: magic.
"Giving them to the smallfolk is not throwing them away," the prince reprimanded him.
The young prince had spent much of his day reading the books left behind by the greenseer. He set aside the Valyrian magic, giving Daenerys books about dragons. The girl had spent the last moon with the eggs. And he believed she could hatch them on her own, although of course he would seek to help her.
Among the texts, he found the primary type of magic used by the first men: runes.
Jaehaerys had used two runes of the first men: ᛉ (Elhaz) and ᛏ (Tyr).
Elhaz was a rune that conferred protection and defense on brick. It also had a greater connection to the spiritual, which would help prevent another curse from ever happening at Harrenhal. Tyr, on the other hand, was used to provide greater resistance and increase the structural strength of the brick.
It was a little complicated to work with runes, as a single rune could have several meanings.
The decisive factor was in making them; it was the intention that counted. Of course, it wasn't enough to carve the rune; it had to be painted with red sap to activate it, which would allow it to connect with the weirwoods and activate the magic. That's why he developed a new mortar mixture based on Roman mortar, the best he could create at the time.
That mortar was made of quicklime, volcanic ash, sand, and water. To this mixture, he added the sap from the weirwoods.
The sap was a scarce commodity, mainly because he could only extract it from two weirwood trees. The first was in the Godswood, while the second had just been planted a moon ago.
The tree in the Godswood seemed to be bleeding, and he had ordered his men to collect the sap in large barrels. To date, he had filled two. It was a monstrous amount, although he believed it was due more to the purification process than to natural production.
Even Dany had told him that she felt more comfortable around the weirwood trees since he had returned from the island. 'The three-eyed raven must have been quite frustrated,' he recalled the hundreds of ravens seeking to harm him. But they never sought to hurt his wife; it seemed that she was still important in the story. Or in the story that the raven wanted to write.
For the mortar, it was a matter of knowing what proportion of sap to mix with the mortar. The first men diluted it almost a thousand times to write the runes. The power of the rune was not limited by the sap used, but by the weirwoods. But there had to be a minimum to be effective. Qyburn was working on that. The disgraced maester had asked him to study the runes, and he saw no reason to refuse.
He did not fear his betrayal; the man was hungry for knowledge. And Jaehaerys was an almost unlimited source of knowledge. But one can never be too cautious. He did not let him know about all the books; there were some more advanced ones. The runes he allowed him to study were elemental.
"Has the blacksmith finished the branding iron?" asked the prince.
He looked in the background, where his men seemed to have started a game. They took a hammer and began hitting the bricks together, trying to break them. So far, they had only managed to produce sparks.
Brandon hit it savagely while laughing like a madman.
"Twenty done, my prince. Ten of each seal," said the master.
"Have them start using them on the bricks then," ordered the prince. "Have you found any assistants you're happy with?" He had entrusted him with this task weeks ago when he saw how overworked he was.
"I've recruited a group of young people willing to help. One knew how to read and write, so I asked him to teach the others. For now, they're only doing basic tasks. I need to know how reliable they are," said the maester. "Ah, there's an envoy from Lord Tarly," he said at last.
"An envoy?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. If he remembered correctly, the man was Sam's father.
"His eldest son, Samwell Tarly," Qyburn said with a small smile.
"Why did he send him?"
He should be on his way to the Wall by now.
"To fight the curse," the man said.
Jaehaerys nodded. News of the deaths caused by the curse had spread throughout Westeros, and he had even received a letter from Sansa asking about his well-being. He had not yet replied.
If Lord Tarly had sent him, it was in the hope that he would die; in the canon, he threatened him to cause a hunting accident. He did not know what rumors had reached him, probably exaggerations.
"Take him as a student," he said to Qyburn.
He could find another maester after his grandfather.
"Oh? That's not advisable. He's from a noble house and—"
"Take him. The young man is hated by his father. He probably sent him here to die," said Jaehaerys. "By the way, what are the rumors about the curse?" he asked.
"All of Westeros is skeptical. Rumors of deaths are a disease. If someone wants to get rid of their son, sending him away would be a good idea," said Qyburn, still suspicious. "Why would Lord Tarly do that?"
"His son is weak. He prefers books to swords. I remember Rabdyll looking at me with contempt, as if I were a whore. I can't imagine how he treated his son. Talk to him and ask him to explain why he came. Could you get to know him? You'll end up wanting him as a disciple." He didn't order him to, though he could well have done so. But he had already forced him to teach Dany and Serena; he wouldn't be so foolish as to antagonize him too much. He was an intelligent and valuable man, one worth keeping happy.
"Then I will do as you say, my prince," the old man nodded. "Do you plan to make the runes public knowledge?" he asked.
"No. I will add them to the new sigil of my house. When they see them on the bricks, they will only think I am a self-important prince. Although they won't be on sight when looking at the castle," The runes were forgotten knowledge. He had not even found them in the enormous library at Winterfell. If anyone recognized them, it would be a huge coincidence.
He could only think of the bronze armor of the Royces.
They also required sap to activate. There were only two trees that could provide it, and they were on his land. The other weirwoods were contaminated. That was why magic had diminished.
"What will your new coat of arms be?" asked Qyburn.
"Two intertwined dragons, one white and the other black. As I said, it will contain the runes Elhaz and Tyr at the feet of the dragons. It will be on an auburn background." He briefly described the coat of arms. His gaze was lost.
"Auburn? That sounds like La-"
"How many bricks will be needed to build the castle?" he asked. He hadn't done the calculations himself.
"A little over five and eighty million. That's just for the towers and the walls. The other buildings have not been considered yet," said the man, knowing when his benefactor wanted to change the subject.
"And how many do we produce per day?"
"Right now, around thirty thousand," said the master. They got a hundred and twenty thousand out of every four days. "There are more than five hundred apprentices. But it will take time for them to learn the trade." Jaehaerys frowned.
That number was ridiculously low. He remembered his grandfather in his previous life, a stubborn old man who made a living making bricks. That was why Jaehaerys was so determined to build the castle out of bricks.
In his previous life, he had failed his grandfather. He wanted to honor him in this one.
It was a stupid reason, yes. But with the runes, it was even an advantage at that moment.
"How many experts are there?" Jaime had sent him artisans in various trades.
"About forty," said the master. That was more than he expected.
"How many steps are there in bricklaying?" he asked. He knew the procedure from his grandfather, but he was unaware of the significant differences it presented in the medieval world.
"Extract the clay and sand; blackwater is rich in both, so it shouldn't be a problem. Add water and knead. Then mold the bricks and let them dry. Once dry, form a kiln; each kiln can hold up to ten thousand bricks. They do three every four days," Qyburn explained. Although Jaehaerys already knew the process. "That would be six steps. Extraction, kneading, molding, drying, forming the kiln, and baking them."
"And I suppose everyone works on the same thing at the same time?" Qyburn nodded.
"Yes. There isn't enough work for everyone. Sometimes you see the young apprentices just watching, which is why I suggest reducing their numbers," he requested.
"No. Order that twelve groups of three craftsmen and nine and thirty apprentices be created. Each of the craftsmen will be in charge of one step: kneading, molding, and baking," he ordered.
The low productivity was due to a lack of organization. Neither he nor Qyburn could be there giving orders, but they could organize the groups.
"There are intermediate steps," Qyburn began.
"Yes. I will send a hundred men to extract clay and sand, and twenty will transport it to the brickmakers' workplace with wagons. If more men are needed to carry the clay from the kneading to the molding, let me know," the former maester took note of his words.
"That will speed up construction. We should increase production by triple. It could be double or triple that when they become more skilled," he jotted down in a small notebook.
"If I'm not mistaken, there are four craftsmen left over. Those four craftsmen will be supervisors. Let them be the best among them. I'll leave the micromanagement to them. Of the remaining thirty-two apprentices..." He closed his eyes as he thought, "Send them to mark the bricks with the runes. They will rotate with the groups," he rubbed his temples. It wasn't pain, as he was used to, but rather stress.
"I will carry out your orders, my prince," Qyburn slowly walked away.
Jaehaerys looked at the men playing; it seemed that it was Torrhen's turn. Brandon was on the floor, breathing heavily.
The wall remained intact.