I built a manor in the Middle Ages

Chapter 179 The Secret of the Water Mill
"Master, we can finally recruit people legitimately."

Ryan chewed the wheat grains with a happy look on his face.

The peasants were starving, but the church had plenty of food.

After coming to Macon County for so many days, he was finally able to recruit people with a legitimate reason, which made him in a good mood.

Macon County is really too dilapidated.

The broken part is not the city walls. In other words, apart from the majestic city walls, neither the environment nor the food met Ryan's expectations.

Looking at the craftsmen working non-stop, he nodded with satisfaction, then asked doubtfully:
"By the way, sir, how are we supposed to take these people back? Bishop Pierre has agreed, but the craftsmen themselves may not be willing to leave."

Luc was studying the sheepskin drawings. Hearing this, he glanced at the selected craftsmen and asked, "Who said we have to take them away?"

"We are contractors and have the bishop's endorsement. We can definitely take away some bankrupt farmers. With famine raging right now, we're sure to find some brave ones."

The construction of the mill had been going on for five days, and there were no more serf disturbances at the city gate. Ryan deliberately followed Ezra and found that he was about to start selling grain. Everything was going on in an orderly manner, as if the assassination had never happened.

"During this period, go visit some people. Remember, don't bring too many people. Seventeen or eighteen people will be enough."

Excluding wheat and cash crops, if all goes well, Luc's farmland will be enough to feed nearly thirty people after a good harvest.

That’s right, it was just his private land, not the arable land of the entire manor!

Ryan nodded and took note of it, leaving Hans to oversee as the two of them walked back to the tent.

The tent was a coarse canvas military tent, which was also the canvas of the ships in the port of Macon. The Count of Macon specially allocated it for Luc to live in. The reason why the lord was so kind was naturally that he had received benefits.

According to Pierre, at least 10% of the mill's profits would be given to him in the future.
Ryan held two gears and stood beside a wine barrel in the tent. The faint sour smell from the barrel rushed into his nose. He asked, "Master, should we put it in now?"

"Let it go!"

Luc stared at Ryan soaking the gears in vinegar, his face serious as if he was doing something very important.

In fact, in his opinion, this is indeed a big deal.

Because the so-called mill plan in Luc's mind is nothing else.

——It is the monopoly of water mill technology!
Ryan covered the lid, wrapped it with cloth to prevent the vinegar smell from leaking, closed the tent, and walked back to the base of the water mill.

Looking at the craftsmen who had already completed the exterior and were making the blades, Luc licked his slightly dry lips.

Is water mill technology difficult?
The water flow hits the blades, which drive the main shaft, and the wheel twists the millstone, and finally the upper and lower mill blades grind the bags of wheat seeds into flour.
Maybe water mills will become popular in thirty or forty years, but at least not many people know about this technology now.

But it would be a mistake to say how difficult it was to build.

Because it is difficult to create something from scratch, but it is much easier to imitate it.
Especially water mills that are not state-of-the-art.

It is too difficult to monopolize it.

The sunlight spread across the water, and Luc squinted slightly, but he had already come up with a plan.
A day later, when the craftsman made the blades and turned to make the main shaft, Ryan went back to the tent holding the blades, put down the blades with one hand, picked up the gear that had been fished out long ago with the other hand, and meticulously compared the interfaces between the two.

"Align the root of the fourth blade with the sixth gear tooth, and the fifth with the ninth gear tooth." Luke sat at the door of the tent, looking out, and instructed Ryan, "Remember this, don't get it mixed up."

"Don't worry, sir, I'm on target!"

Ryan picked up Luc's dagger from the table and carved a scratch on one of the blades that was almost imperceptible to the naked eye without careful observation. Starting from this, he divided the blade into twelve pieces from left to right. He lowered his head and carved an Arabic numeral 7 on one of the wooden teeth of the gear, representing the seventh.

To confuse the situation, he filled in the other gears with messy cracks that looked like naturally formed ones, blew up the sawdust gently, and according to Luc's instructions, firmly embedded the vinegar-soaked gears into the blades.

It took a lot of effort to align all 24 gear teeth. Ryan wiped the sweat from his forehead and said, showing his teeth, "It's done."

After saying this, he looked at Luc's gaze and couldn't help but sigh: "Master, your idea is simply great. I believe that from now on, this mill must obey us when it is in operation!"

As a person who participated in almost all the construction of the Knight's Castle, if you ask Ryan which building in the manor has been the most difficult for him in the past three years, it would be the mill!
The first water mill was renovated not long after it started operating. Besides its small size, there was another reason - there was a problem with the gears.

Neither Luc nor Ryan had ever paid special attention to gears, but when they actually started running, they found that gears were very important!
Let’s not talk about anything else, just talk about the accuracy of bite.

The trapezoidal gears must fit tightly against the blades and the main shaft. Even an error of half a centimeter will affect the lifespan. If the error is too large, it may even break down during operation.

So based on this reason, Luc designed an excellent plan - he wanted to be so precise that every wooden tooth had a specific position!

Luc walked to the gear and tapped lightly on its surface. No matter what kind of building it was, there were only two ways to imitate it: either have the blueprints, or dismantle the original building and observe it thoroughly.

Smelling the vinegar smell that had dissipated a lot, Luc's eyes shone. The gears were made of hardwood, but once they were soaked in vinegar and forcibly dismantled, there was only one result.

crack.

If they want to build another gear to replace it, they will suffer a lot because the gear cannot be effectively aligned.

By then, the only one who could keep the water mill running again was Luc.

As for whether anyone would dismantle it, Luc smiled lightly. A mill that could reduce grain loss by half would definitely attract many people.

Of course, one day the water mill technology will still be cracked, but by then Luc might have already reaped the benefits of the mill.

Do you think it was easy for technology to spread in the medieval environment where everyone was doing their own thing?

At least twenty years!

Luc thought silently.

Put this core of water grinding technology in a corner, and wait until the main shaft is completed before repeating the process.

The two of them waited quietly for another two days.

With food and supervision, the fifteen craftsmen quickly built everything needed for the water mill. After completing the main shaft, they were about to start the final construction. At this time, three or four taverns of varying sizes in Macon County began to spread the following news from the mouths of troubadours:
An ascetic monk from Cluny was brutally murdered for exposing a bishop's salt smuggling. His spirit unwillingly wanders above Thorne, and farmers often hear his prayers and cries of pain at night.

The troubadour's exquisite ballads and realistic narratives led the drunken spectators to condemn the unknown bishop. Just as people were speculating about who the bishop was, another rumor leaked out from somewhere: the bishop was Pierre of Macon County!
When they heard Pierre's name, everyone immediately fell silent, except for a pilgrim with a broken arm outside the city who started cursing like crazy.

At night, Luc sat in his tent and heard Ryan's whisper in the flickering light, "Master Brother Pierre has been summoned to the castle by Count Macon."

(End of this chapter)