Stephen raised a hand, scanning the group of workers gathered, each one dirtied from hours of digging.
His gaze settled on the tired but hopeful faces around him, and he lifted his brows, asking, "So, have you found a water source?"
Tristan wiped a streak of mud from his face, regaining his composure. "Well, Shibal believes there's potential if we keep digging down. Fortunately, many men from the city have joined the efforts."
Stephen nodded, shrugging off his coat and stretching his shoulders. "Then let's continue, shall we?"
Tristan blinked in disbelief. "M-my lord, what are you doing?"
Grabbing a shovel, Stephen grinned. "What does it look like? I'll help with the digging."
Tristan hesitated, stepping forward. "My lord, there's no need for you to—" He stopped when he met Stephen's steady gaze.
"It's alright," Stephen assured him, patting his shoulder. "As lord of this territory, I cannot sit idle while everyone else labors. Let's dig."
Stephen joined the others in the pit, shoveling dirt alongside his people. The day wore on, and still no sign of water appeared. By nightfall, most of the workers returned home, leaving only Stephen, Shibal, and Tristan by the pit's edge.
Seeing Shibal's worried expression, Stephen asked, "What's on your mind, Shibal?"
Shibal hesitated, a shadow of doubt crossing his face. "I worry I may have chosen the wrong area, my lord. I fear we'll come up dry after all this effort."
Stephen gave the elderly man a reassuring clap on the shoulder. "We've put in too much effort to lose faith now. Just a bit more, and I'm sure your instincts will prove right."
The next two days passed, with every able hand in the city dedicated to the dig. Stephen continued attending to his duties in the meantime, pouring over the unresolved affairs left by the previous count.
Then, one afternoon, the doors to his office burst open. Stephen looked up, surprised, as Tristan, breathless and muddy, stumbled in, his face aglow with excitement.
"My lord! A water source was found!"
Stephen shot to his feet, joining Tristan in the carriage as they rode out to the site. Stepping to the edge of the pit, Stephen looked down, his face breaking into a smile as he spotted the underground lake shimmering below.
"Some of the men went down to inspect it," Tristan explained. "The water reaches only knee height, and it flows from another source. Shibal confirmed it's drinkable and fast-flowing; the lake even has a drainage hole to keep it fresh."
Stephen laughed aloud, drawing the attention of the workers around him. "Excellent work! You've all done a remarkable job!" he called out. "In thanks, every worker will receive a barrel of ale!"
A cheer erupted, and many of the men grinned widely at the statement. With the taverns closed due to economic struggles, the offer was a rare treat.
Stephen turned to Shibal, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You did well, Shibal. I'll see to it that Tristan fulfills our agreement immediately."
Shibal bowed deeply, his eyes glistening. "Thank you, my lord. Thank you." As Shibal stepped away, his fellow workers embraced him with pats on the back and words of gratitude.
Returning to his office, Stephen thought over the next steps. Now that they had water, they needed a way to bring it up from the depths efficiently.
He browsed through the system for practical tools, settling on a design called the Well Bucket System with Windlass.
Unlike simple buckets, the windlass would allow them to draw larger quantities of water quickly, and its design was similar to those used in castle gates, making it familiar to the craftsmen.
Calling for the territory's best blacksmith, carpenter, and builder, Stephen placed a detailed blueprint on the table.
Manuel, the blacksmith, studied it carefully, his eyes widening. "My lord, I never thought of using a windlass for water. We've only ever used it for lifting gates."
Stephen nodded. "Can the three of you manage this?"
"Yes, my lord," Manuel answered after exchanging nods with the others.
"Good. Emeric will assist you with the materials, and I'll pay a generous bonus if the task is completed in two weeks."
"Yes, my lord!" the craftsmen chorused, bowing before being led off by Emeric.
Soon after, a female servant arrived to inform Stephen that the town criers had returned, bringing with them skilled seamstresses, tailors, knitters, and weavers from across the territory.
Stephen led them to a large, empty warehouse once used for storing goods but now repurposed as a workshop.
Inside, rows of newly purchased sewing machines, weaving looms, and knitting machines.
Originally, Stephen had intended only to purchase sewing machines, but realizing that the winter clothing would require not only basic garments but also caps and sweaters, he decided to acquire both weaving looms and knitting machines as well.
"Here are the contracts my lord." The town criers said, holding the pile of documents.
Stephen thanked them before stepping onto a makeshift platform to address the gathered workers.
"Everyone, thank you for coming," he began. "I understand this is unfamiliar to many of you. For this work, I need four volunteers."
Three men and a woman in their fifties stepped forward, curious but willing. Stephen instructed them to sit at the machines, demonstrating how to make a simple cap with wool fabric, thread, and knitting yarn.
The speed and simplicity of the task drew murmurs from the crowd as Stephen handed the finished cap to one of the knitters, who examined it in astonishment.
"Now," he called, "I want each of you to form two lines. Seamstresses, tailors, knitters, and weavers."
The workers arranged themselves, attentive as Stephen outlined the tasks before them. He guided each group personally, explaining their roles and ensuring they understood the machines and materials. Some were quick to adapt, while others needed additional instruction.
Everyone's had to work, in order to make suitable clothing, that would shield their bodies from the cold.
With the city bustling anew, Stephen supervised each aspect of the operation.
With over 800 workers, Stephen devised a rotation plan to keep productivity high. As soon as a knitter, weaver, or sewer grew tired, another would step in to take their place while the other rested, allowing the work to proceed swiftly and efficiently.
This rotation ensured that the clothing production moved steadily forward, without exhausting any individual worker.
Tristan was tasked with purchasing the remaining slaves, Emeric managed the windlass project, and Stephen dedicated himself to overseeing the clothing production.
In just days, the desolate streets transformed with the people's bustle. Men, women, and even children contributed to the effort.
Everyone was helping one another, to survive the harsh winter.
---
The following day, Stephen took note of the workers' progress. Many were gaining proficiency, and even the elderly and young assisted where they could.
By week's end, the windlass was nearing completion, and the workshops hummed with the steady rhythm of cloth and wool being transformed into garments.
Though they still had far to go, Stephen saw the city beginning to stand on its own again.
---
A month had passed swiftly.
Manuel and his team had completed the windlass, and now it was being carefully installed by several strong men from the city.
"Pull!"
"Everyone! Pull!"
The sounds echoed as they tested the windlass's strength, grip, and durability, with Manuel and the others inspecting each detail meticulously.
Meanwhile, Tristan returned after a week, bringing with him fifty people from the Sahara. Since they had no homes, Stephen arranged temporary accommodations for them in the shuttered shops throughout the city.
With many of them still able-bodied, Stephen assigned the men from the Sahara to assist Shibal in further exploring and managing the underground lake.
The women, meanwhile, were assigned to clothing production.
Soon, stacks of freshly made garments began piling up. Making use of every resource, Stephen dispatched several of his most trusted servants to neighboring cities and towns to distribute the clothing, prioritizing children, the elderly, and women.
He didn't overlook the workers and their families, ensuring that they received their own share first as recognition for their efforts.
Roch and Jocelyn kept Stephen updated on food production through regular letters. They reported promising growth in the pearl millet fields, estimating that the first harvest would begin as early as next month.
"Whooo! The windlass is ready!"
A cheer erupted as the people celebrated their achievement, and Manuel approached Stephen, his face alight with pride. "With this, my lord, we can provide water to everyone in the territory."
Stephen nodded, satisfied. Without delay, he arranged for carriages filled with barrels of water to be dispatched to every city and village, ensuring a steady supply for all.
With food production thriving, clothing distributions well underway, and water secured, the final challenge remained: shelter.
Normally, families used fireplaces for warmth, but with the impending Snow Hurricane, Stephen knew the usual methods would not be enough.
The Snow Hurricane, a fierce blend of heavy snow and violent winds, was a dreaded event occurring every three years.
It brought with it an intense chill that often paralyzed entire regions, especially impacting the smaller towns.
Though the people had adapted to enduring it, braving the storm had its limits, and Stephen knew that even the hardiest of homes could be vulnerable to this formidable force.