AN :
The story needs more power stones...
In the Game of Stones, you either win or you wait. The more Power Stones you offer, the faster the chapters come.
...
( Ilyn Payne POV )
The merchants had taken to using Vellum for their contracts instead, simply because it was cheaper and more available now with this single process dominating the paper market.
That aspect should ease up in a little while though, as more apprentices joined the paper-makers in Lannisport and the Church reached out to the rest of their producers in the Westerlands. They had many connections from having already been the greatest paper user in the Westerlands, something Ilyn had not previously known.
...
Next was the matter of ink, which was mercifully at least a little less complex. Callum had made his ink from a mixture of charcoal dust and boiled linseed oil, which was already used in wood polish and various types of paints used for houses and such. While it had cost several hundred dragons to purchase the various vats and workers already used for paints, the production of the ink was still satisfactory. Of all the components of the Press, that was one they wouldn't run out of.
Which left the hard part.
Ilyn leaned in and inspected the type block that had just finished cooling, the block was a bit rough on one side where shrinkage had occurred, but the letter "e" itself still had the fine flat top in the right shape that would print the letter.
This one was good enough for use once it went to the filers. He dropped it into the bin to his right and went to pour a bit more of the molten tin and lead from the vat. His tongueless mouth was dry as he sweated in the sweltering heat of the type-forge.
Yes, the Type was the hardest part to manage. Blessed as Callum's invention might be, Ilyn felt that actually achieving the scale the boy dreamed of was something of a living hell. Every letter needed to be the same size, the same shape. Every block needed to be identical, or close enough to it that it all fit in the type great together, that meant that hundreds of hand presses needed to be made, all with a three-inch long, one-inch wide receptacle for the actual copper type mold.
Of course, each of those copper-type molds also had to be made the exact same way, hundreds and hundreds of them to fit the hundreds of hand presses. This was done by stamping the copper and was the single greatest expense in the entire process.
More than 2,000 gold dragons had been spent just on the materials and skilled blacksmiths necessary to make the type-molds, and hundreds more were spent every day just getting them going. Ilyn worried that they might run through their entire budget on this given enough time, as the type-molds needed to be remade every few thousand type-blocks they produced.
Then there was the type itself, which needed to be molded slightly above the scale that it was actually going to be used at, to account for the shrinkage in the lead, which then meant that the edges of each type block needed to be filed down to precisely fit into the trays.
So some eighty people, Ilyn included were stamping out type blocks, while another eighty, mostly apprentices of blacksmiths or jewelers, were filing down their edges in the next room over. Then some two dozen more were busy in one of the lower chambers of Casterly Rock, where they were assembling the type into copies of the seven hundred pages of the seven-pointed star. Each page was six inches wide and eight inches tall since that was the size at which all the copies of the book would be printed.
There was to be no illumination around the edges or fanciful artwork, though the Septons had insisted that there be at least two illustrations for each of the seven books. Ilyn had no idea how that was going to work, the Gold Sept was supposedly going to take care of it. He supposed that they might be manually stamped into each of the books. He didn't really care, that wasn't something he was overseeing. All it meant was that the page sets in fourteen places had to make room for open space on the page where illustrations could be added later.
As for why Ilyn was in here hand-molding things himself? Well, he'd learned long ago that the men worked better for someone who would do the work with them, especially when it was miserable work.
He glanced down at the new type-block he'd just made, and cast it back into the vat almost instantly, nearly half of the metal was deformed beyond use. Worthless.
He was reaching to start another attempt when he felt a tap on his shoulder, stopping to glance around, he turned to find Septa Margot behind him.
"Ser Ilyn." The woman smiled brightly. "Could I have a bit of your time?"
Ilyn blinked, then glanced up and down the line, making sure that everyone was still working properly. Finally, he nodded.
"Excellent." she smiled, "Follow me."
Ilyn followed along behind the Septa, who was walking fast enough that Ilyn actually had to work a little to keep up, despite her being shorter than him, she seemed to move as fast as she could without running at all times. He'd noticed that about her in the three weeks, he'd been working closely with her now.
While he handed out orders to the various workers and such he'd managed to assemble, she was always running back and forth to the Gold Sept, or else to the other Septs in the city. She had brought back everything from initiates to help work the type at no cost, to donations from the various Septs, and even been valuable in securing some of the merchant contracts that brought wood and paper into the city. Most merchants weren't known for being particularly devout, but Margot seemed to have an eye for finding the ones that were and then beating them into submission with her faith. It was very impressive.
She led him over from the type foundry, which had been hastily converted from a warehouse just outside the Lion Gate of Casterly Rock, to the house next to it where the accounting was kept and the progress of their work was tracked. Ilyn wanted to ask exactly what this was about, but he doubted she would stop moving long enough to read the question if he wrote it out for her.
Still, he recognized it soon enough, when he saw the grey-robed figure before the door, being held up by one of the merchant's sons that Ilyn had hired to do the accounting. The chain around the man's neck made him unmistakeable.
"There, I have brought Ser Ilyn, you may make your case to him." Septa Margot said, sounding quite annoyed with the Maester. He looked like a younger member of that order, perhaps only around thirty, with a short brown beard and long hair, he whirled around to stare at Ser Ilyn with cold blue eyes.
"A knight?" He asked, "You're telling me that you made all of this?" the man's incredulous tone did him no favors in Ilyn's mind, though he would admit that it would have been impossible for him to do what he did now before Callum had taught him to read.
"No, it was the Blessed Young Lord Callum!" Margot growled. "As I said before, Lord Tywin's son was helped by the Smith."
"Helped by Maester Eomund more likely, but he will not speak to me." the man snapped.
'Couldn't imagine why' Ilyn thought, as the Maester turned to face him again.
"Well then, out with it, what sort of tool is this that it makes books without writing?" The Maester demanded. "And why hasn't it been shared with the Citadel?"
Ilyn suspected that the latter question was the one more concerning to the Maester, but after a moment of consideration, he took out the pad of paper he kept in his pocket and wrote out an answer.
'The device belongs to Callum Lannister and House Lannister.' he raised his notepad up so that the man could see.
"Belongs to- Why do you persist in these lies? Has Master Eomund decided to hide his work behind the face of a child?" The man said angrily. "I won't stand for it, you must bring him here to answer at once! Tell him Archmaester Norren sent me."
Ilyn considered the man for a moment, and then he shrugged.
If that was what the man wanted, then what better way to get him out of Ilyn's hair?
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