Chapter 40: One Person’s Pair of Hands

My return from the manor didn’t settle the road question.

After I relayed Elmer’s message, the chief merely confirmed, “If we truly decide to widen it, we tell the manor first?”

“…Yes.”

“Then that’s enough for now.”

The real question was whether Rue had reason to widen it.

Everyone knew Heinz had been unable to carry all the prepared charcoal and that people on the highway wanted more.

A charcoal worker suggested producing a little extra.

The chief reminded him that Heinz hadn’t carried everything.

“The road may change that.”

“The road hasn’t changed yet.”

“Doing nothing won’t—”

“I didn’t say we’d do nothing. First we see whether production can increase.”

“The kiln works.”

“What use is looking only at the kiln?”

The man fell silent.

Charcoal required wood. Someone had to cut and carry it, and someone had to tend the kiln.

“If one person moves to charcoal,” the chief asked, “who?”

No one answered.

“From the fields?”

“We need them.”

“From canal maintenance?”

“No spare hands there.”

“From gathering firewood?”

“Then the village runs short before charcoal matters.”

Each answer only moved the shortage elsewhere.

“If we had one idle worker, this would be simple,” the chief said.

But Rue had no idle adult.

“…Move one person, another work loses.”

“Exactly.”

My speech was still rough, but I could link short thoughts now.

“…More charcoal. But less other work.”

“So we compare which benefits us.”

A single extra bundle sounded easy. The entire village wasn’t.

For a large, lasting increase, someone had to do the work.

Dario interjected, “Could we make two Vals?”

I stared at him.

“…Impossible.”

“Thought so.”

Why ask the obvious? The tension broke in laughter.

◇

Later I found Lina bundling thin branches at the village edge.

“What were you talking about?”

“…Charcoal. Whether make more.”

“Will you?”

“…Not yet.”

“But it can sell.”

“…Maybe. But need person to make it.”

She looked at her branches.

“Charcoal needs wood too.”

“…Yes.”

“Val can carry lots of wood.”

“…I can.”

As an Adult Dragon, I could move weights several humans would struggle with.

“If you help, can they make more?”

“…Only that part.”

I searched for words.

“…I can carry heavy things. But can’t do every other job.”

“Like farming?”

“…Yes.”

My claws were poor tools for delicate fieldwork. I didn’t understand the charcoal kiln as well as villagers did.

My strength could help in some tasks. That wasn’t the same as replacing every part of one human worker’s job.

“You can’t do everything,” Lina said.

“…Can’t.”

“Even though you can fly?”

“…Flying and farming are different.”

“I suppose so.”

She laughed and returned to her bundle.

◇

Toward evening, the chief summarized what he had heard from the charcoal workers.

“There isn’t as much spare capacity as we thought. Minor changes might add a little, but sustained production means transferring a worker.”

The man who had proposed the increase added that nearby trees couldn’t be used without limit.

“And we won’t sell the firewood Rue needs,” the chief said.

No one objected.

Rue wasn’t rich in food. Buying more grain would help, but destabilizing current life to do it made no sense.

“Then what about the road?” someone asked. “If charcoal can’t increase, do we abandon widening?”

“Why? Charcoal isn’t the only thing using it.”

Salt and grain from Heinz traveled that road. So did travelers. I had seen how much more moved beyond the highway.

“But we no longer have reason to rush merely because charcoal might sell,” the chief said. “The manor will inspect it. We’ll decide after we know where the current road truly causes problems.”

“…Then decide?”

“Then.”

Widening the road wouldn’t itself produce charcoal, and producing more charcoal wouldn’t automatically enrich Rue.

Neither issue could be solved in isolation.

The workers returned to their tasks. Dario left too.

Only the chief and I remained.

“In the end,” he said, watching them go, “there isn’t a spare pair of hands anywhere.”

I looked at the villagers returning to work.

When one task needed another person, that person had to come from somewhere.

In Rue, one person’s labor was not a small thing.