Chương 71: Chapter 68 – Holding Pattern

Alric grinned up at the large hole in the ceiling. The frame was visible outside through it, heavy beams braced above the roofline with the solid confidence of something built by people who did not trust gravity to behave out of politeness. A barrel hung awkwardly in the air, slung in ropes, beginning its slow descent toward the platform with all the dignity such a situation allowed. The ropes creaked as the load shifted, fibres tightening and relaxing in small, audible complaints.

"Aye, well, that's a lot better by my reckoning," Stromni said near Alric's elbow. Alric nodded enthusiastically. The barrels had been fitted with steel frames so the weight rested on the rings rather than the wood itself, a concession to reality that had been reached after several long discussions and one very short demonstration involving a cracked stave and a great deal of swearing. As the barrel neared its destination, Hal turned it using a second rope, lining it up by eye.

It landed with a dull thump that suggested both success and the possibility of needing to check everything again. Dust lifted briefly from the platform and drifted back down through the open space. They watched as Hal moved to the front, set the filter in place, and pulled the bottom bung. Water poured through the filter and into the boiler below, obediently choosing the path that had been prepared for it, as water often did when given no alternatives.

"I ever tell you that you do good work?" Alric asked. Stromni had built and designed the roof frame system, and seemed faintly pleased every time it was used without incident.

"Aye. Ya do. Ya bring me interesting problems," Stromni replied with a satisfied nod, the sort of nod usually reserved for tools that had not yet tried to kill anyone. Hal detached the rope from the steel frame and stepped back. He crossed to the window and shouted up to the oxen team. One of them nodded, which was taken as agreement, and the animals were repositioned to bring the next barrel in through the roof. Hooves shifted outside, wood creaked, and the frame responded with a slow, patient groan.

"I'd like to say you overbuilt the frame," Alric said, looking up at the heavy wooden beams outside, "but who knows how many barrels this thing will end up moving."

"Aye. I did it for yer feelings," Stromni said with a grin.

"Ya get nervous when I'm on the roof too often." Alric chuckled, which was easier than admitting this was entirely true. It was late morning when Alric found himself in his office. Nearly all the windows in the building and the doors were open, yet the air still felt oppressive, as if summer had arrived early and was making notes for later. Heat lingered rather than passing through, pooling in the corners. With him were Seren and Vale. Despite the heat, Vale still wore his jacket.

Alric's tunic clung to his skin, and he could not understand how Vale tolerated it. He suspected discipline was involved, or possibly stubbornness.

"And these are the current orders?" Alric asked, looking through the list in his hand. Vale nodded as Alric compared it to the other papers, delivery schedules and outstanding requests spread across the desk with the neatness of things that wanted to look sensible. One page stuck slightly as he lifted it, reluctant to separate. He checked the lists against one another. Something did not add up. The numbers were clean. Too clean.

They sat on the page with the innocent confidence of figures that believed they had nothing to hide. Alric took out a sheet of paper and began to draw a graph, comparing previous totals to the current ones. A new line marked daily output, running neatly alongside the rest, well behaved and entirely unhelpful.

"How are we growing this fast?" He glanced from the graph to Vale.

"Seasonal interest, I expect," Vale replied. That made sense. Heat made people drink more. Wait. That explained taverns requesting additional casks. It did not explain the growing number of taverns and inns asking for beer in the first place, as if the city had quietly decided it was a good time to discover new thirst. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"That doesn't explain more taverns wanting from us," Alric said, frowning. Vale shrugged.

"The six-week festival, I suspect. They don't want to risk a brew turning when they're not sure they can afford grain for another batch." Alric moved on to the delivery schedule. The carters were in a strong rhythm now. He insisted they take breaks between runs and made sure water was always available, a policy that had been received with the cautious gratitude usually reserved for employers who did not immediately try to squeeze every possible hour out of a day.

Outside, a cart rattled past, the sound fading unevenly as the street dipped. Still, the figures refused to settle. The inconsistency only resolved when he added one final line to the graph, at which point the problem stopped pretending to be polite.

"We aren't meeting demand, are we?" Alric asked, looking up. Seren cleared her throat.

"There are more taverns than we can supply. That is correct. At present, we are deferring some, staggering the starts on others, and onboarding slowly."

"You can see it recorded here in the ledger," Vale added, referring back to the original list and tapping the column in question, which had been doing a great deal of quiet work. The desk shifted slightly under the pressure. Alric nodded.

"So," he said after a moment, "you're stalling?" Seren shrugged.

"I prefer the term delay, Mister Alric." Alric nodded slowly. Seren was being careful. She had not used words like shortfall or crisis, which were the sort of words that tended to invite arguments.

"Delay, then. How are you delaying them? We have stock in reserve?" he asked.

"We do," Seren said, not meeting his eyes.

"But it will not last long." From deeper in the warehouse came the muted clang of metal meeting stone, then silence. Alric turned back to the weekly throughput page. She was right. If production stopped, their reserves would be gone within three days, which was not enough time to develop a new philosophy about scarcity.

"I see," Alric said, just as carefully avoiding the same words she had.

"So, I thought we were barely holding. This tells me we aren't," Alric said, holding up the offending list. Vale looked away, his expression complicated, as if the numbers had said something impolite about his mother.

"The problem is magic," Alric continued.

"We can't add more boilers because we can't supply the stones." He felt a headache forming, the kind that arrived early and planned to stay. He pressed his fingers briefly against his temple.

"You got there quickly," Vale said, offering a thin, unhappy smile.

"Do we hire another mage?" Alric shook his head.

"Battery was the only one Mara and Hal knew who'd do it. We also have to supply the case at different times." Vale shrugged, which in his case seemed to be a way of filing the idea away under unhelpful but accurate.

"We need to choose who we supply beer to then," Seren said, voicing the thought he had been avoiding. The room settled into a quiet held together by shared understanding rather than agreement. Alric let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

"Alright then, so who gets beer and who doesn't?" Alric asked.

"I suggest we prioritise eateries," Vale began. Seren shook her head.

"They have other income. Those who only serve drink do not." As the two began to argue, Alric could not help thinking it felt much like his last promotion in his previous life. Initial pride, followed by responsibility settling heavily on his shoulders and refusing to move.

"I suggest we go with those who are reliable," Vale said at last, casting a sidelong glance at Seren.

"Both prompt with payment and nearby."

"And I suggest we supply those who need less, and consider how they acted during the guild issues," Seren countered. Alric sighed.

"Each choice creates a new problem. Either we punish new independents or reward existing power structures. If we supply only those nearby, we turn the nearby districts into drinking hubs." Both shrugged, as if the city itself had quietly agreed to make this his problem. Beneath the graph, Alric added a note. They could produce ninety six casks a day before magic became the limit. They ran four days a week at present. So three hundred and eighty four casks a week. Charcoal smeared faintly under his thumb.

Shifts could be added to use the remaining two, assuming everyone involved continued to behave like people and not like tired machinery. This world worked on a six day week and while the city gave people a day off, Alric insisted on giving an extra. As he knew from the winter, his staff had no qualms about putting in extra hours when needed.

"We can hire more staff to work the off days, but..." he began.

"We cannot house them," Seren finished.

"We could put them in a nearby lodging house." Vale nodded.

"That could work, but..."

"We would only be buying time," Alric said.

"And we would be introducing new problems. Mara and Hal would need to train them, oversee them." Neither responded, so he continued.

"This also creates more serious risks. Either someone gets hurt, or quality starts to slip," he said, settling back in his chair. The chair gave a soft, tired creak. Both looked surprised by the bluntness, but neither spoke.

"I'm surprised you know that, Alric," Vale said at last, studying him.

"You are younger than I am, after all." Alric shrugged.

"I don't consider any of these acceptable. I'm not sure I want to increase staff yet." He also understood that doing so would turn Mara and Hal into clerks in practice. Their work would shift to managing others who now did what had once been their jobs. He could not do that to them without speaking to them first, and even then it felt like asking people to stop being themselves for the sake of neatness.

"You know, I had assumed growth would eventually slow," Alric said.

"I don't think that's going to happen," Seren replied.

"Something about the guilds isn't adding up. Apart from the letters requesting meetings, there has been nothing." Vale nodded in agreement, which did nothing to make the silence feel smaller.

"We could raise prices?" Vale suggested deliberately avoiding eye contact It's not the worst idea.

"You'd just prove the guilds right to oppose us in the first place. If only we make more beer..." Seren said shaking her head.

"Uhh.. what are you implying?" Alric asked as Seren trailed off.

"We might start a riot." Vale explained with a shrug, as though riots merely made distribution annoying. Somewhere in the warehouse, a cask was rolled into place. In the office there was a long silence.