Douglas did not intercede for those people.
He knew that the grain shortage was a fact, and the excessive losses were also a fact. The 20% gap was like a line carved on a wooden board. If there was no explanation there, one could only accept the consequences it would bring.
In the brief silence, he had already briefly reviewed in his mind the names of the people responsible for the distribution of this batch of grain in each city-state and their performance in the past few months.
"I will arrange for someone to rush you later today."
When Douglas spoke, his voice was shorter and clearer than before, "By the way, we should also clean up the batches that were not doing well. Some people are really just wasting food by keeping them."
Redd did not correct him, did not say "it was too much" or "leave it aside for now", nor did he add any new instructions.
He walked down from the edge of the high platform and walked towards a temporary command post with an awning on the inside of the port.
Douglas followed his footsteps, and on a long table outside the temporary command post, Douglas bent down, pulled out a rolled-up map from the bottom of the table, pressed one end with an iron paperweight, and slowly unfolded it on the table.
The texture of the parchment is thick, and the edges are slightly raised due to repeated folding. Under the afternoon light, it has a yellowish-brown luster that is unique after being read repeatedly.
The map marks the outline of the sea areas and islands around Valyrian Peninsula. The ink lines are fine and clear, from the coastline to the water depth marks.
Several locations have been specially marked - the landing point circled with red pen, the anchorage marked with blue pen, and some "unsuitable docking" areas drawn with diagonal lines, distributed along the outer arc of the peninsula.
Redd's eyes fell on the map and he narrowed his eyes slightly.
The afternoon light fell diagonally on the parchment, illuminating the fine lines and markings clearly.
His eyes started from the first circled landing point and moved slowly along the coastline, as if he had walked a road completely with his own eyes before setting off.
Douglas stood at the table, waited for his eyes to move away from the map, and then pointed sideways to the location near the bay on the northeast side of the peninsula, circled twice with a red pen. "We plan to establish our first stronghold at this location and have done several surveys.
The coastline there is concave inward, forming a small natural bay. The water is deep enough for medium-sized ships to dock, and no additional trestles or pontoons are needed to unload cargo.
There is a raised ridge on each side of the bay, which can form a natural barrier behind the stronghold, blocking most of the sand and smoke from inland.
At the same time, the sandy foundation there is relatively stable, so setting up temporary camps and cargo sheds does not require much ground preparation."
Redd said nothing.
He looked at the outline of the bay that had been drawn repeatedly, his eyes moving back and forth between the curvature of the coastline and the inward extending contours, as if he was measuring with his eyes which section was closer to the appearance of the coast in his memory.
His finger paused at the edge of the bay on the map. He didn't tap it, but just placed it there, as if confirming something that had been confirmed in his mind. "How many other locations are suitable for use as a stronghold?"
Douglas pointed to two locations on the south side of the map and drew an arc to the north. "There is also a landing point with similar conditions here and here. Compared with the bay on the northeast side, the exposure is higher. There is no obstruction to the west, and the berth will be affected when encountering big waves.
The terrain at this location in the north is flatter and easier to build a station, but the tidal range is larger and ships will be stranded when the tide goes out.
If the fleet wants to dock outside, it must operate during high tide periods, which will limit the window time for material transfer."
Redd's eyes swept back and forth between those positions, and then returned to the original bay. "It's settled right here.
After the fleet crossed Smoking Sea, the first stopping point was located in this bay.
The materials were unloaded, the personnel rested, and then they were pushed inland in batches.
As long as this stronghold is established, the subsequent transportation will be much smoother." He retracted his finger from the map and straightened up.
"After the stronghold is completed, the subsequent routes and supporting materials will be followed according to the schedule you gave us before."
Douglas rolled up the map and put it back on the table next to the iron paperweight. "The first batch of fleets to replenish food supplies will also dock in the next few days."
Redd nodded and looked away from the map,
Falling on the sun-bleached water in the distance.
The breeze blew across the bay, fluttering the edges of flags and canvas being loaded and unloaded in the port, making a dry and fine sound.
He stood there for a moment, as if he was going through the road map that he had confirmed in his mind for the last time. Then he turned around and walked in the direction of the Black Wall along the way he came.
Douglas stood at the table with the map rolled up, watching his back pass through the shadows at the edge of the warehouse area, turn a corner next to the row of short trees weighed down by the sea breeze, and slowly disappear at the end of the dirt road leading to the city wall.
After Douglas left, Redd still stood under the awning of the temporary command office in the port, his eyes falling on the slowly darkening sea in the distance.
The sun has shifted more than half way to the west, dyeing the entire sky and seawater into a transitional tone between deep orange and lavender.
Workers on the dock were carrying the last few bundles of canvas and ropes onto the transport ship docked at the deepest part of the berth. In the gradually lighter sea breeze, the sounds of footsteps and shouts became clearer than in the afternoon.
He planned to return to his residence in the Black Wall in a few moments, and have people put the map and the several supplies lists he had read into a waterproof leather case. Then he would find a place where he could sit down and spend the evening quietly, and go over all the approved information in his mind to make sure nothing was missed.
Just then a raven flew in from the east window.
The bird made almost no sound when it landed on the window sill. After folding its wings, it squatted there quietly, its claws lightly grabbing the wooden window frame twice, as if to confirm the stability of its footing before standing firm.
Its feathers appear a deep black with a bluish luster in the afternoon light, like pieces of iron polished by the light reflected from the sea surface.
It did not jump down in a hurry. Instead, it turned its head slightly and stared at Redd's face with a round, bright eye that was almost amber due to the light, as if it was identifying something.
After a few breaths, the eye shrank slightly, as if he had checked a box on a list and confirmed his identity before jumping down from the window ledge and landing on the table in front of him.
Its claws slid slightly on the rough wooden surface to stabilize its body, then raised its left leg, revealing a small iron cylinder tied above its calf.