"What? Can't afford it?" Roland sat in his office, the document requesting additional administrative staff and a sailboat lying on his desk.
Barov cleared his throat. "Your Highness, that's correct. A two-masted sailboat costs between eighty and one hundred twenty Golden Dragons, but that's just the construction fee. Including the crew, the total price would likely exceed two hundred Golden Dragons." "Didn't I say we don't need sailors or helmsmen? The captain wouldn't need any either—I just want the boat," Roland asked, tapping the table. With Wendy around, he didn't need so many people to operate the sailboat. Inland boats mostly had straight sails, which were as easy to handle as raising a flag. Both oarsmen and sailors were redundant—anyone could be pulled up to try being a helmsman. With vector wind power, why would the boat fail to move forward?
"Your Highness, there's no such deal, at least not in Willow Leaf Town," Barov explained carefully. "You may not fully understand this trade. Typically, the ship's owner is the captain. It could be a merchant or a Noble. The former hires their own crew to travel between major town docks for trade or cargo transport. The latter usually employs a deputy captain to manage the ship. Crew members aren't paid monthly but receive payments every one to three years." "Most of the time, the ship and its crew are bound together. If you intend to buy the ship from the captain rather than his crew, he'll lose the wages. The eighty gold dragons 'payment isn't a small sum even for a Noble. Including the gemstone raw stone trade with Willow Leaf Town earlier this month, the town hall now has 315 gold dragons remaining. If you spend most of that on the ship, your militia won't have enough left to pay next month's wages." The Minister's Assistant finished speaking in one breath, raising his cup to take a sip of wheat wine.
"Most of the time you mentioned..." "Exactly," he nodded. "There are two scenarios where ships are sold off. First, when merchants urgently need cash and liquidate their assets. They'll then dismiss all crew members and sell the vessel as quickly as possible. Second, when replacing ships – which makes sense. But let's be honest, both cases are extremely rare." "Wait," Roland frowned. "You're talking about buying new ships... where do these ships come from?" "From Port of Clear Waters, Sea Breeze County, and North Cape. Only port cities have shipyards, and only they can build ships." This was exactly what Roland meant by "you can't find such deals in Willow Leaf Town." Roland paused for a moment. Buying ships from port cities was too far, and without hiring crew members, who would sail them back? "Alright, I'll think about it." After the Minister's Assistant left, Prince fell into deep thought.
In his strategic blueprint, maritime transport was an indispensable element. Without swift and efficient boat transport, he could not have executed the artillery encirclement. The Duke of the Fortress's forces typically consisted of peasants, knights, and mercenaries, whose marching speed was inevitably slower than his own. As Carter noted, purely land-based transportation could be crippled by a single mud pit—land routes of that era were neither asphalted nor even paved with stone slabs. Yet, as more people walked through, they gradually carved out a path. On sunny days it was manageable, but rain would turn the roads into a quagmire.
In the end, do we still have to rely on self-reliance?
Roland spread out the sheet of paper and meticulously recorded all the specifications he needed.
First, it is a vessel capable of carrying one to two cannons and approximately thirty personnel, which can operate without propulsion using sail power. Second, as it navigates inland waterways, it must be stable and reliable, resistant to capsizing, and feature a shallow draft. Third, it should be easy to operate, allowing militia members to quickly master its handling after brief training.
When all these factors are considered together, the answer is clear: a flat-bottomed barge.
Before Roland's arrival, these shallow-draft, low-center-of-gravity vessels were ubiquitous, dotting every major waterway. The traditional flat-bottom barges—filled with river sand or gravel and their hulls nearly flush with the water—could be hauled along like a train by just one tugboat.
Once the ship type is finalized, the next critical step is selecting the appropriate construction materials.
Roland wrote down three options on paper: wood, iron, and cement.
Wooden boats represent humanity's earliest maritime technology tree. From rafts to wind-sail warships, from rivers to oceans, wooden vessels have stood the test of time. Unfortunately, Roland lacked both the knowledge to assemble a flat-bottomed boat from logs and the skilled craftsmen to execute it. Had he relied on a few carpenters to force it together, the result would likely have been a large raft that could easily fall apart at any moment.
The iron ship's construction resembles that of a house, with crisscrossing primary and secondary beams forming the keel, then clad in iron sheets. While welding by Anna ensures structural integrity, this method would deplete the already limited iron ore reserves. Therefore, unless absolutely necessary, these resources would be better utilized to produce steam engines and gun barrels.
The cement ship thus emerged as the ultimate solution—once the city walls were completed with surplus raw materials, Anna could produce enough cement powder through one or two calcinations. Its construction proved far simpler than iron vessels: wooden molds shaped the hull, iron bars served as reinforcement, and cement was simply poured in. Even in rural villages, people could build several small cement boats for fishing. Unlike iron ships requiring regular rust removal and repainting, these vessels needed no maintenance after construction, offering both affordability and exceptional durability. Even without expertise in building ocean-going warships, constructing a low-tech inland cement barge should pose no significant challenge.
With a try-it-out attitude, Roland grabbed a goose-feather pen and swiftly sketched the barge.
...
A shed with a wall was built on the Chishui River.
To make it easier to access the water, Roland positioned the shipbuilding site as close to the riverbank as possible.
The shed provides shelter from wind and snow, with two charcoal fires burning inside to prevent the cement from hardening too slowly due to low temperatures.
The carpenter's wooden framework had already outlined the vessel's basic contours—the bow curved to reduce forward drag, while the square stern expanded the load-bearing surface. Measuring approximately twenty-four chi (8 meters) in width with a 3:1 length-to-width ratio, this vessel stood out as a plump figure compared to conventional ships 'slender 8:1 proportions. Its central double mast system featured masts anchored to the hull and connected to iron beams running along the midline. A wooden stake at the stern served as a rudder slot, while crisscrossing iron bars adorned the hull's other sections.
No need for binding wire—Anna welded all the iron bars together at their intersections, forming a solid iron mesh that covered the entire hull.
When the formwork and reinforcement were ready, Roland instructed the workers to begin the pouring process.
The prepared cement was poured into formwork in basins, with flat bottoms and raised edges about 1.5 meters high to form the ship's side walls. At first glance, it looked like a uniquely shaped large bathtub.
None of the builders, including Anna, could have imagined that this peculiar contraption, crafted from the same materials as the city walls, would turn out to be a ship.