Six and ninety thousand bricks every third day. That was the new figure. Two weeks had passed, and efficiency had increased more than threefold. But even at that rate, it would take nine years to produce the ninety million bricks required. He would probably need another ten million for the construction inside the castle.
Besides, he had other things to build that Qyburn hadn't considered. The outer walls were over eighty feet high and thirty feet wide. The stone from the towers would only be used to repair the damage, which prevented him from using it in his initial plan to expand the walls.
The walls formed a perimeter of six thousand three hundred and five and forty feet, covering an area of five and forty acres.
The walls were not symmetrical, and Jaehaerys hated that. The walls formed an imperfect rectangle. Three sides were fine, but then in one of the corners, there was a strange construction. Jaehaerys planned to tear down that corner and make the rectangle correct. The new construction would end up with a perimeter of eight thousand two hundred feet, that's one thousand eight hundred and five and fifty feet more than the previous one.
The towers, although monstrous, were useless for expanding the walls; even the hall of a hundred hearts did not offer that much material. Qyburn was an excellent biologist, but as an architect...
The walls will need an additional thirty million bricks. And depending on the dragon eggs, he had other projects that would add another thirty million bricks.
That increased the work to almost fifteen years. Not counting unforeseen circumstances.
Jaehaerys considered how the Ironborn had never rebelled, and the feeling that a war could come soon made him want to hurry. He had already sent letters to the Manderlys offering them a commission.
Jaehaerys thought about sending more men. But he couldn't do that without stopping another process. The men were in charge of building the castle's foundations and expanding the outer walls, although the latter could wait. It would take about eight moons to finish the foundations, considering that they couldn't use those of the towers already built.
On the bright side, he could expand the walls much more than he had initially planned. However, it would still take five years. No one rested in the castle.
He felt a little bad about giving his people ten-hour days. But they had food and good pay. Their conditions were much better than most lords offered. Small groups of workers had arrived, people looking for opportunities. He had taken them on and put them to work quickly.
'Bricks, bricks,' he began to think of solutions.
He decided to give them better tools for kneading and molding. It would allow them to modify the bricks in the kilns for better results. He would order the carpenters to make wooden molds. Enough to make four bricks. It should increase efficiency.
'But it's not enough.'
"So, Will, where do you think the problem is?" The man had just reported on production. He was one of the supervisors.
"In the kilns, my lord," the man replied. He didn't dare look him in the eye.
"In the kilns?" he asked curiously.
"Yes, M'lord," the man swallowed hard, seeing the prince's narrowed eyes. "Ten men are kneading, eight and ten molding, and two and ten in the kilns. Each man produces about four hundred bricks. That would be seven thousand two hundred a day," he had been selected for his ability to count. "But we can only make eight thousand every three days because of the klin."
"Two and ten men can't do it?" He opened his eyes wide. His grandfather was capable of tending a kiln by himself, albeit on a smaller scale.
"The men need to rotate shifts. We can handle one kiln, but not several at the same time," the man wiped his forehead.
"I see," he narrowed his eyes, looking at him. "How many men do you need?" he asked, starting to play with a knife.
"At least ten or twenty more per group," the man nodded, looking at the sharp steel with fear. 'Don't lie to him, doesn't matter what,' he remembered Qyburn's words. "The young men are learning quickly. They could start molding five hundred bricks by the next moon. That would be seven and twenty thousand bricks every third day, per group, of course," the man calculated two kilns of five and ten thousand.
"What if you make the kilns smaller?" asked the prince.
"The quality of the brick decreases, and it would need more manpower. I would also need more wood," said the man. "About the wood..."
"What about it?" The whole situation was upsetting him. It was a problem of patience; it required time. Medieval industry was slow.
"I," the man clenched his hands in fear. "In Westerlands, we use coal. It burns hotter and is more efficient. We would use about a third of what we use in wood."
"I will take care of that. I believe there are several mines..." He stopped before he began to ramble. "I will send men and have them given better tools. I hope that improves production," he said to the man. "Order the kilns to be used in stages. Start one furnace one day, another the next, and another the third. That should speed things up," he asked at the end.
"Yes, m'lord," the man would figure it out.
Jaehaerys thought about correcting him on how to address a prince, but the man was trembling.
The prince gestured to the man, who knew when he was being dismissed.
Jaehaerys gave the orders and began to think about more recent problems.
He needed to obtain gold. He had spent approximately one hundred thousand golden dragons in the last two moons, almost a tenth of his total fortune. He would have to spend it on putting the mines to work. There were eight hundred men laying the foundations outside. Expanding the walls was not a priority beyond his annoyance at not seeing them symmetrical.
He could send five hundred to the mines. He would send the rest to make bricks. He put down his pen and donned a dark purple, almost black cloak.
He left for the village to check on the construction of the Drakkars. People thought that name was a variant of "Dracarys", which meant "Fire" in Valyrian.
He did not correct them.
He rode in silence with Torrhen's shadow beside him. They reached the village in no time.
He had prepared shipyards for the construction of the ships. He wanted small ships about sixty feet long. Agile for navigating the Blackwater. The carpenters of Westerlands were quick to take orders. They had never built anything like this before, but they were not out of their element. He had purchased the cured wood from Lord Mooton of Maidenpool.
Three small boats were already in the makeshift harbor. Some villagers were offended, as they considered going so far out onto the lake a sin against the gods. It was his trip to the island that convinced them all.
"The gods allowed it. If they hadn't, he wouldn't have come back," said the smallfolk
He decided to send Ros to King's Landing. He trusted her enough to sell products, mainly perfumes, soaps, and oils. He will send twenty armed men for her protection.
Thinking about the TV show, he was a little surprised. In the show, the girl had been a prostitute in Winterfell. He changed her destiny. She was the daughter of an innkeeper. One night, while looking for people to recruit, he came across that inn.
He remembered a nobleman about to buy her first night. Her father greedily accepted the gold. The man who paid, a knight lost in the north, took her by the waist and was about to take her to a room arranged by her father.
"Girl," he said back then. She seemed intelligent and observant. "Bring me more beer," he asked.
She ran to his side.
Her father frowned but said nothing. The knight looked at him with hatred. No one said anything. He was a prince; he could have taken her virginity for free if he had wanted to.
He took Ros with him. The girl wasted no time in trying to warm his bed. She could read and write, which alone made her very valuable in that medieval world. But she still feared abandonment.
Jaehaerys was not a man without desire and claimed her maiden as if it had always been his. He remembered the blood.
She was his first woman in both his lives. Out of respect for his wife, he had not been intimate with her again. Now he was sending her to sell goods. He didn't want her to stay by his side just as a decoration. After all, she had a good head on her shoulders.
He hoped that word would spread and merchants would come to Harrenhal. He had many things to sell, even if he needed to refine his processes.
He returned to the castle near sunset. Looking for Ros. When he found her and explained his plan, she got mad.
"You're sending me away because of Daenerys?" was the first thing she said when he ended up talking. Jaehaerys had a separate study. He couldn't spend all day in his chambers working at his desk.
"No. I'm doing it because I trust you," he said softly.
"I don't want to go, I want to be here. With you," she seemed on the verge of begging him.
"It will only be a week or two. The trip down the river should take three days at most," he said. "You'll come back with me," he said, standing up and caressing her cheek.
"And when will I return to your bed?" She wanted to sound angry, but she couldn't. "Even when you and her," she alluded to Sansa, "were sleeping together, you still kept me with you. Gods, I remember you had us both at the same time. How many times was that? Ten, twenty?" she asked him.
"I'm married now," he defended himself.
Remembering Sansa hurt him, made him remember the letter he had not replied to. He shouldn't have been her first man. If anyone found out, she would have little prospect of marriage. Although the idea of his Sansa being married bothered him. Sometimes he wished he could call her Daenerys' lady-in-waiting. But he stopped himself.
"Married under gods you don't worship," she said. Jaehaerys preferred the old gods to the new ones. That wasn't anything new. The Isle of Faces only reaffirmed his beliefs. "The old gods don't care if you had more than one woman," the girl tried to kiss him.
"It's not about the gods. It's about my wife," he pulled away from her.
"Then you don't know your wife as well as you think you do," the girl said with a mysterious smile.
"What are you talking about?" he frowned at her comment.
"I'll tell you when I get back from King's Landing," she almost growled. "If I don't find a rich and handsome husband," she turned on her heel and left.
That idea soured Jaehaerys' day.
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After this chapter, I'll probably be using Arabic numbers in big numbers.