Alexander was not the only one that found Jazum’s obliviousness distasteful.
And as if infected by his rage, Alexander’s bodyguards too radiated anger and displeasure, finding such uninhibited casualness with their lord very inappropriate.
But all these subtle and even not-so-subtle clues seemed to go over the son-con’s head, who seemed to be immersed in his proud son’s memory.
“The brick kiln was supposed to be under your jurisdiction by my command.” Alexander’s voice was deep, his eyes narrowed, as he then clenched the words, “So who gave you the permission to pass that duty to another?”
This tone of questioning finally woke Jazum to the direction Alexander was steering the conversion, but instead of being scared and apologizing for this gross misuse of power, he on the contrary defended himself, saying, “Oh, my lord, but Jafor is a good kid. He is just figuring himself out and I’m sure he will work very hard and contribute much to Zanzan very soon.”
Jazum, for all his intellect and architectural prowess, saw no problem with him arbitrarily placing his son in such an important position.
To him, it was all natural.
And this made Alexander helplessly comment, ‘It’s like we are speaking two different languages.”
Of course, Jazum was not stupid.
But the reason why it looked like he was acting like an idiot was because he was fundamentally misunderstanding the question.
He simply did not share Alexander’s concerns nor did he understand why it was a concern for Alexander/
To him, it was only natural that he would put his family in key important positions over the sectors he had jurisdiction over.
And this was because such was the prevailing custom of Adhania.
Sensing how deep the rabbit hole went, Alexander’s azure eyes darkened like black thunderclouds had covered the sky and he said to himself, ‘This has to be stopped.’
He was finding this repugnant practice arguably even more repulsive than the concept of bliss trainers.
Thus, to wake this delusional man from his illusions, he lambasted the stonemason in a loud booming tirade, “What do you mean your son will work hard! Who told him to work hard? When did you get to decide your son gets to work hard?”
Micro droplets of the enraged beast’s spit showered over the flabbergasted face of the quivering stonemason, as the vituperation continued.
“I remember putting you in charge of the brick kilns. Did I put that brat in charge of the kilns?”
“How dare you appoint someone completely unqualified to oversee such a critical component of Zanzan?”
“Who gave you the guts to do so?”
“You are still a mere civilian and yet you dare override the pasha’s words!”
“What will happen when you become a shordar (baron)? You already think you can appoint whoever you want without my permission. Next will you appoint yourself as Pasha?” Alexander’s eyes glowed with rage as he finished his diatribe.
“I…I…I don’t dare. I don’t dare,” Jazum answered shaking like a leaf, his eyes darting back and forth in confusion.
He just could not understand why Alexander found this natural act objectionable.
And hence he still did not apologize, but instead provided excuses, “My lord, I…I was too busy with all the work. And I just did not get the time.”
“I…I will go to the brick kilns today. And I promise to increase brick production by tomorrow.” He hastily promised.
The lack of an apology very much irked Alexander, and because he did not get the answer he was looking for, he just curtly excused the stonemason in a brusque tone, “No need. It seems you are too busy. I will find someone else. Dismissed!”
Alexander swung his sturdy arms in a high arching motion to signal Jazum to get out.
“….” Seeing the flared-up Alexander in such a foul mood, Jazum simply lowered his head, wordlessly bowed, and quietly and quickly dragged his body out of Alexander’s sight, eager to escape the wrath of the usually gentleman Alexander.
And on the way out his mind swam with many thoughts, one of them being gratefulness that Alexander did not chastise him in his workplace, in front of all his workers and colleagues, but had tactfully chosen a remote corner of the grounds, away from most prying eyes and ears.
But this gratefulness was soon buried by the anger of Alexander bad-mouthing his son.
He was the apple of his eye, the peart of his heart and he would absolutely not let anyone disparage his pride and joy, not even the lord of the lands.
‘*Sigh*, my mood for the entire day is ruined,’ Jazum ground his teeth hatefully as he returned to bark orders at the worker on the new kilns.
And Alexander would the next day say this following note of caution at the council meeting, “My lords, I have a tiny bit of advice to share with you all.” He would begin with that characteristic slight smile,
“Though I do not have a son of mine yet, I believe that sons can be just as much our pride as they can be our shame.”
“And hence it is imperative that as lords, we all strive to guide our sons to the right path. They will be our successors and inheritors after all.”
And he then finished the short speech with this ominous warning, while making a clear dig at Jazum, “Or else we will be exposing our weakness to our enemies and rival.”
It would take the council a bit of time to understand the context of Alexander’s advice, but after finding out about Jazum’s little adventure of jumping above the pasha’s directive and doing things his own way, resulting him in losing the brick-making facilities and getting basically demoted, the others would remember well to heed Alexander’s advice.
But those were tomorrow’s events, as right now, Alexander was talking to the man he had chosen to replace Jazum, his colleague, and a close co-worker, Krishok.
“How can I help, milord,” He eagerly asked, meeting the pasha at the same place Jazum had met.
“Jazum has told me that he is feeling too overwhelmed with all the tasks he has been given. And feels he does not have the time to also manage the brink manufacturing plant.” Alexander stated.
And with a light smile then asked, “So do you think you are qualified?”
“Yes, yes, of course. No problem,” This tanner’s reply was instantaneous, without a shred of any other consideration given, only producing a cunning glow in his eyes as he readily said so.
How could he not smell that something had happened between Alexander and the stonemason, resulting in the latter’s dismissal from this post?
After all, he knew his colleague well enough to know that the man would never voluntarily give up such power and authority.
“Haha, good, I’m relieved,” Alexander slightly chuckled at the expected answer.
Though Krishok was a tanner, Alexander was confident he could oversee the relatively simple construction of the new brick kilns.
He did build part of the cement kiln after all.
Thus as soon as Alexander finished praising Krishok, he took out the dread piece of paper and handed it over, “Here.”
And stated his goals immediately afterward, “We will soon need to increase brick production to at least a million pieces per day by next year. And up to ten million within five years.” Alexander’s ambitious numbers seemed ludicrous for Krishok and it made him shake involuntarily in fright. ．
But in Alexander’s eyes, this was not really much.
After all, the current five thousand workers under Diaogosis could already use 2.5 million bricks per day.
And this was just bricklaying.
When concrete manufacturing, which was a combination of bricks, sand, and cement, was taken into account, even the impressive number of ten million would start to look pretty inadequate.
“My lord, how big will the furnaces be? And how many?” Krishok had a wry, helpless tone to his voice.
Knowing Alexander, since he said it, Krishhok knew the Pasha also had thought of a way to do it.
And then it would be the tanner’s turn to work day and night and bring that creation to life.
Hence he decided to skip the melodramatic phase, and simply and straightforwardly accept his fate.
‘Hehe, I like the obedient ones,’ Alexander was also pleased that he could skip the coaxing and reassuring phase for once.
“Read,” Alexander simply gestured for him to open the folded paper.
Krishok thus did so and contrary to the horror he was expecting, he found the drawing to be relatively simple, just that of a huge dome, with six stoves similar to the ones used in the cement kilns that protruded inward attached to them, which had a type of connected pipe network running below the six of them which allowed fresh air to enter the dome.
“The dimensions are already there. You just need to charge the bricks, seal the entrance with brick and cement, and fire the stove. And voila, after four to days, you will get the bricks.” Alexander provided some simple commentary on the already detailed written instructions.
Krishok too found the drawing, labeled the dome kiln easy to understand as he repeatedly nodded his head to express his understanding.
The new furnace was just a huge dome with a diameter of 11m and a one-story (3m) height.
It was a large entrance through which about 100,000 pieces of bricks or 200 tons of charge would be placed inside, after which the entrance would be sealed with bricks and mortar, and the stoves fired.
And once done, the seal at the entrance would be smashed open with hammers, and the products slowly retrieved.