I do not see the advantage of writing a message here, and Flar pointed to the roll, when you say …
The Smith beamed expansively. Ah, but as I write with this needle, another needle at the Masterminers in Crom or at the Crafthall at Igen repeats the line simultaneously.
That would be faster than dragon flight, Lessa whispered, awed. What do these lines say? Where did they go? She inadvertently touched the material with her finger, snatching it back for a quick examination. There was no mark on her finger but a blotch of red appeared on the paper.
The Smith chuckled raspingly.
No harm in that stuff. It merely reacts to the acidity of your skin.
Flar laughed. Proof of your disposition, my dear!
Put your finger there and see what occurs, Lessa ordered with a flash of her eyes.
It would be the same, the Smith remarked didactically. The roll is made of a natural substance, litmus, found in Igen, Keroon and Tillek. We have always used it to check the acidity of the earth or solutions. As the chemical reaction energy is acid, naturally the litmus changes color when the needle touches its surface, thus making the message for us to read.
Didnt you say something about having to lay wire? Explain.
The Smith lifted a coil of fine wire which was hooked into the contraption. It ran out the window to a stone post. Now Flar and Lessa noticed that posts were laid in a line marching toward the distant mountains, and, one assumed, the Masterminer in Crom Hold.
This connects the c.r. distance-writer here with the one at Crom. That other goes to Igen. I can send messages to either Crom or Igen, or both, by adjusting this dial.
To which did you send that? Lessa asked, pointing to the lines.
Neither, my lady, for the c.r. was not being broadcast. I had the dial set to receive messages, not send. It is very efficient, you see.
At this point, two women, dressed in the heavy wher-hide garb of smithcrafters, entered the room, laden with trays of steaming food. One was evidently solely for the Smiths consumption, for the woman jerked her head at him as she placed the heavy platter on a rest evidently designed to receive it and not disturb work in the sand tray beneath. She bobbed to Lessa as she crossed in front of her, gesturing peremptorily to her companion to wait as she cleared space on the table. She did this by sweeping things out of her way with complete disregard for what might be disarranged or broken. She gave the bared surface a cursory swipe with a towel, signaled the other to put the tray down, then the two of them swept out before Lessa, stunned by such perfunctory service, could utter a sound.
I see youve got your women trained, Fandarel, Flar said mildly, catching and holding Lessas indignant eyes. No talking, no fluttering, no importunate demands for attention.
Terry chuckled as he freed one chair of its pile of abandoned clothing and gestured Lessa to sit. Flar righted one overturned stool that would serve him while Terry hooked a foot round a second that had got kicked under the long table, seating himself with a fluid movement that proved he had long familiarity with such makeshift repasts.
Now that he had food before him, the Smith was eating with single-minded intensity.
Then it is the wire-laying process that holds you up, Flar said, accepting the klah Lessa poured for him and Terry. How long did it take you to extend it from here to Crom Hold, for instance?
We did not stick to the work, Terry replied for his Craftmaster whose mouth was too full for speech. The posts were set up first by apprentices from both halls and those Holders willing to take a few hours from their own tasks. It was difficult to find the proper wire, and it takes time to extrude perfect lengths.
Did you speak to Lord Larad? Wouldnt he volunteer men?
Terry made a face. Lord Holder Larad is more interested in how many flame throwers we can make him, or how many crops he can plant for food.