Five days in a carriage was no pleasant prospect, even one as fancy as Ricard’s. The undercarriage employed the very newest leaf-spring suspension and the thick, padded seats helped absorb some rocking of the road, but nothing prevented Adamat’s head from hitting the roof when they hit a particularly deep hole in the road.
Damn these northern roads.
At least Faye seemed to be enjoying herself, as much as she could under the circumstance. She had become even more withdrawn after her decision not to go after Josep. Her weeping had stopped, though, and she seemed more resolved to put on a good face for the other children.
“We’ll have these roads fixed up better once the canal comes into more use,” Ricard was saying, his head craned out the window. “I’d like to see the whole thing cobbled, with a full-time union crew to tend to maintenance year-round.”
Adamat longed to reach their destination. Just a couple hours away, or so Ricard had said. They’d be staying at the finest hotel in northern Adro. Room service, massages, hot running water. The hotel was brand-new, built to accommodate dignitaries and businessmen taking the canal over the Charwood Pile.
“Couldn’t you just leave it to the Mountainwatch?” Adamat asked. “The maintenance, I mean. We’re in the foothills. That counts as their territory.”
Ricard wagged a finger under his nose. “No! No, no, no. I fought tooth and nail for the canal to be a union project. The Mountainwatch wanted in on it. Claimed it was their jurisdiction, or some such tripe, but this is a union job! The union employs good, hardworking Adrans. Not the convicts and malcontents of forced labor like the Mountainwatch.”
“Surely they’re guarding the pass,” Adamat said.
“No,” Ricard said proudly. “Purely union, even down to the lock guards.”
That surprised Adamat. The Mountainwatch was more than just a forced-labor institution. It had a long tradition of guarding the high places — they were the gatekeepers of Adro, and they’d proved that again in the recent defense of Shouldercrown Fortress.
Adamat understood that Ricard was proud of his unions, but unionizing the defense of the country seemed strange.
They stopped for a midday meal several miles south of the canal. Adamat and Faye dined with their children and their hired nannies while Ricard met with Fell about plans for the mountain. When lunch was over, Adamat wandered outside to stretch his legs.
The inn sat next to a small stream — runoff from the mountains. Adamat listened to the bubbling sound it made as it meandered under the road and down toward the river, then looked north.
Adamat could see the locks of the canal from where he stood. They worked their way up the side of the mountain like steps, the road zigzagging its way up beside them. The whole setup looked like a model at this distance, and even seeing it with his own eyes, he scarcely believed it to be real. A canal going over an entire mountain range!
The locks themselves were a feat of engineering never before seen in this world. They were built purely by the labor of men, no sorcery at all, unless you count the few Knacked that the union no doubt employed for their various skills. Despite the rigors of the journey, Adamat knew that touring the locks prior to the grand opening was going to be worth the whole trip.
Josep would have loved to have seen the canal.
Ricard and Fell came outside, studying a map together and pointing at the road. He could hear them discussing the benefits of cobbles versus brick or poured concrete.
Something on the mountainside caught Adamat’s eye. At this distance, he couldn’t be sure, but…
“Ricard,” he said, interrupting the two, “do you have a looking glass?”
Fell said, “I do.” She went back to the carriage and returned a moment later, handing Adamat a looking glass.
“I thought you said that the grand opening wasn’t until tomorrow,” Adamat said to Ricard.
Ricard squinted toward the canal. “It’s not.”
“You’re not supposed to have any traffic on the canal?”
“Not yet. I mean, they’ve been tested, but no commercial traffic until after the grand opening. Why, what do you see?”
Adamat put the looking glass to his eye and found the locks. They came into focus, and then he saw what had caught his eye.
Each of those locks held a ship — and not just any ships, but oceangoing merchantmen with rows of cannon and tall masts. There had to be dozens of them, and he could see the tiny figures of men working the locks as the entire row of ships slowly descended the side of the mountain.
The ships bore green-and-white-striped flags, marked in the center with a laurel wreath. Adamat felt his legs grow weak and a growing dread in the pit of his stomach.
He thrust the looking glass into Fell’s hands. “Get the children back in the carriages. We’re going back to Adopest. Now!”
“What?” Ricard demanded, snatching the looking glass. “What is wrong with you? The grand opening is tomorrow, we’re…” He fell silent as he put the looking glass to his eye.
